I am not really wicked. Love me, and you will see!

In Paris, our lives are one masked ball.

Why, you love him! Your fear, your terror, all of that is just love and love of the most exquisite kind, the kind which people do not admit even to themselves.

You are crying! You are afraid of me! And yet I am not really wicked. Love me and you shall see! All I wanted was to be loved for myself.

If I am the phantom, it is because man's hatred has made me so. If I am to be saved it is because your love redeems me.

Blood!...Blood!... That's a good thing! A ghost who bleeds is less dangerous!

No, he is not a ghost; he is a man of Heaven and earth, that is all.