There is something fearfully strengthening about cutting free even if the ties bandage the heart itself.

Dancing is such a despised and dishonored trade that if you tell a doctor or a laywer you do choreography he'll look at you as if you were a hummingbird. Dancers don't get invited to visit people. It is assumed a boy dancer will run off with the spoons and a girl with the head of the house.

Many other women have kicked higher, balanced longer, or turned faster. These are poor substitutes for passion.

We can't stand silence, because silence induces thinking. And if we thought, we would have to face ourselves.

No white man uses his feet the way an Indian does. He talks to the earth.

Dance in the body you have.

The choreographic process is exhausting. It happens on one's feet after hours of work, and the energy required is roughly the equivalent of writing a novel and winning a tennis match simultaneously.