The Phantom of the Opera (1989)
Barton: Don't test me, Carlotta. I could drown you too easily.
Carlotta: Better to be submerged in bath water than mediocrity. Wouldn't you agree?
[about to take off Erik's mask]
Carlotta: What will I think when I see?
Erik Destler: You'll just... die!
[as he burns Erik's face with a magic touch]
The Devil: People will love you for your music. But that is all that they will love you for.
[Escorting Christine deep into the sewers]
Christine: Where are we going?
Erik: Home. No one can hurt you here.
Christine: You're him, aren't you?
Erik Destler: Had you expected someone else? Christine, you have always been my inspiration. You. And now, it's only a question of what you want: Love or music.
Erik Destler: Christine, you... you are the angel. You are my voice. Together we'll have London at our feet. Christine, come to me, and I will give you everything.
Erik Destler: Up there, those are the actors and the costumes and the scenery. They don't know the soul of the opera. In your dressing room, I could only teach you the words, the notes. But here... here I can teach you the meaning.
Hawkins: Do you believe in God, Mr. Dutton?
Hawkins: Good. Because it's going to take a leap of faith for you to understand what I'm about to tell you. The Phantom is real. It has a name. Erik Destler.
Richard: But that's just a story.
Hawkins: I know the legend as well as you. He sold his soul to the devil so the world would love him for his talent. The devil had a price. He mutilated his face so terribly, that no one could stand to love him ever again.
Richard: And it's said the only way to kill the Phantom is to destroy his music.
Hawkins: I don't believe in phantoms or legends, Mr. Dutton, but I do believe in facts. And the fact is, this man - -this creature - -is still alive. Still alive and living under your opera.
Mott: You're a thing from hell.
Erik Destler: And you, sir, are hellbound!
Erik Destler: I like it better in the dark. The night is far too short as it is.
Waitress: How was the opera tonight, sir?
Erik Destler: An inspiration.
Erik Destler: You love the music. I am the music. Now you are married to the music. You cannot serve two masters. Do not see another.
Christine: I promise.
Erik Destler: Tonight, you shall be my bride.
Erik Destler: Your father has sent me. I am your angel. All of your lessons have led to this moment. We will make music that the world will love forever. Take the last step to me. To your destiny. To immortality.
Christine: Are you going to kill me now, too?
Erik Destler: Everyone dies... I only choose the time and place for a few.
Christine: When do you choose for me?
Erik Destler: [sitting at organ] This is either a wedding march or a funeral mass. You decide which.
Harrison: I think I would rather die than to listen to that shrieking child for another evening!
Erik Destler: As you wish!
[the phantom meets Harrison, the opera critic in a steam room]
Erik Destler: Could it be that I saw you at the opera last night?
Harrison: It's possible, I am the opera critic of the Gazette.
Erik Destler: Indeed, I found your account of Christine Day's performance, some what troubling. Could it be that we saw different shows?
Harrison: Ah Ms. Day, I was sorry for her, embarrassed really, the role was beyond her!
Erik Destler: Then perhaps you weren't afforded a seat befitting your status and your knowledge of the arts. The acoustics are somewhat inconsistent. Should you reconsider your evaluation, I could provide you with a private box.
Harrison: Sir you flatter me, but in all truthfulness, I think I would rather die than to listen to that shrieking child for another evening.
Erik Destler: As you wish!
Ratcatcher: I lead the rats away, round them, without me, you will have them crawling all over you!
Erik Destler: Then lead them to eternity!
Erik Destler: So your bubbling was the work of the opera ghost?
Joseph: No it was an accident.
Erik Destler: But you blamed me!
Joseph: It won't happen again.
Erik Destler: No it won't. Your suspended!
Prostitute: Good evening, guv'nor. What is your desire tonight?
Erik Destler: Desire! What do you know of desire?
Erik Destler: [to Christine] There is nothing that you could ask for that I would refuse.
Richard: [to Barton] Perhaps kicking your ass will brighten my spirits?