Baron Jean Octavie:
Die for me, my pet, that we both may be reborn.

Julien:
Why can't we have a bit of cheerful Italian music, like everyone else?

Julien:
That man and his damned symphony, or me!

Carlotta:
I can't wait!

Marius Carnot:
It's as though the music were buried in my soul.

Constable:
This is not Paris, madam... I don't need any evidence.