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Quote by Gaston Leroux

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THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA (Mystery & Horror Series): Gothic Classic Based on True Events at the Paris Opera

This gothic novel delves into the eerie tale of a disfigured musical genius who lives beneath the Paris Opera House, captivating audiences with his haunting voice and terrifying presence. The story is based on true events and explores themes of obsession, love, and redemption. more

Author

Gaston Leroux
Gaston Leroux

Gaston Leroux (1868–1927) was a French journalist, novelist, and playwright, best known for writing the gothic thriller "The Phantom of the Opera" published in 1910. Beginning his career as a court reporter and theater critic, he later devoted himself to fiction, producing over 40 novels. "The Phantom of the Opera" became his most enduring work, captivating readers with its mysterious atmosphere and romantic tension. In addition to this masterpiece, he authored "The Mystery of the Yellow Room," considered one of the first locked-room mysteries. Leroux's storytelling skill and vivid imagination significantly influenced the development of detective and horror fiction. His works have been adapted countless times for stage, film, and television, making him one of the most widely read French authors of the early 20th century. He died in Nice on April 15, 1927. more

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“I waste much time gaping and wondering. During a walk or in a book or in the middle of an embrace, suddenly I awake to a stark amazement at everything. The bare fact of existence paralyses me- holds my mind in mortmain. To be alive is so incredible that all I do is to lie still and merely breathe- like an infant on its back in a cot. It is impossible to be interested in anything in particular while overhead the sun shines or underneath my feet grows a single blade of grass.”

“Will sat where he was, gazing at the silver bowl in front of him; a white rose was floating in it, and he seemed prepared to stare at it until it went under. In the Kitchen Bridget was still singing one of her awful sad songs; the lyrics drifted in through the door: "Twas on an evening fair I went to take the air, I heard a maid making her moan; Said, 'Saw ye my father? Or ye my mother? Or saw ye my brother John? Or saw ye the lad that I love best, And his name it is Sweet William?" I may murder her, Tessa thought. Let her make a song about that.”