I wanted to invent some kind of American dance that was danced to the music that I grew up on: Cole Porter and Rodgers and Hart and Irving Berlin. So I evolved a style that certainly didn't catch on right away - but I had some good mentors in New York who encouraged me.

The only time I feel pressured is when some woman's husband comes over and says, "Will you go ask my wife to dance? She's a great dancer and would just love to dance with you."Suddenly there's a crowd of people standing around us and they expect that they're about to see Fred and Ginger. Here the woman and I have just met, and these people think that it's showtime. That is the only time I think it is really embarrassing.

I still find it almost impossible to relax for more than one day at a time.

I don't even want to discuss Flashdance. I'm no critic, but that's an interesting phenomenon, that picture.

Any man who looks like a sissy while dancing is just a lousy dancer.

I miss the romance. I keep saying this over and over again, but dance follows music. And if the accent today is percussion and rhythm and loudness, then that is the way the dance numbers will be. But it is pretty hard on romance with seven guitars, three drums, and no melody instruments in the band.

You dance love, and you dance joy, and you dance dreams.