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

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.

For a moment I thought I knew exactly how Christ must have felt as He called John.

The more I thought about it, the better I liked the idea. The corps de ballet were already calling me "the Phantom of the Opera," an intriguing sobriquet which appealed to me very strongly, until I realized that it would mean signing my ransom notes P.T.O. One did not wish to descend to the ridiculous!
O.G. I became and O.G. I have remained.
But I still liked to think of myself as the Phantom.