In these infernal "coulisses" self-love has no sex; the artist who triumphs, be it man or woman, has all the other men and women against him or her.

Then, as to money, however many engagements Florine may have, her salary does not cover the costs of her stage toilet, which, in addition to its costumes, requires an immense variety of long gloves, shoes, and frippery; and all this exclusive of her personal clothing.

The first third of such a life is spent in struggling and imploring; the next third, in getting a foothold; the last third, in defending it.

If happiness is frantically grasped, it is because it is so rare, so long desired, and found at last only amid the odious fictitious pleasures and smiles of such a life.
As for Florine, Raoul's power in the press was like a protecting sceptre; he spared her many cares and anxieties; she clung to him less as a lover than a prop; she took care of him like a father, she deceived him like a husband; but she would readily have sacrificed all she had to him.

Raoul could, and did do everything for her vanity as an actress, for the peace of her self-love, and for her future on the stage.