Night after night the nightingale came to beg for divine love, but though the rose trembled at the sound of his voice, her petals remained closed to him...Flower and bird, two species never meant to mate. Yet at length the rose overcame her fear and from that single, forbidden union was born the red rose that Allah never intended the world to know.

None of us can choose where we shall love.

I had reached up and pulled the castle of dreams down around him.

She wanted an Angel of Music . . . an angel who would make her believe in herself at last. I'd been the Angel of Doom for the khanum. There was no reason in the world why I could not be the Angel of Music for Christine. I couldn't hope to be a man to her, I couldn't ever be a real, breathing, living man waking at her side and reaching out for her . . . But I could be her angel' -Erik

Hell is not a place, it's a state of mind and body; hell is obsession with a voice, a face, a name.

Great beauty is often perceived by human senses as pain.

Happiness is like the first blissful intoxication of morphine.It doesn't last very long.