The wind? I am the wind. The sea and the moon? I am the sea and the moon. Tears, pain, love, bird-flights? I am all of them. I dance what I am. Sin, prayer, flight, the light that never was on land or sea? I dance what I am.

So that ends my first experience of matrimony, which I always thought a highly over-rated performance.

The dancer's body is simply the luminous manifestation of the soul.

Any intelligent woman who reads the marriage contract, and then goes into it, deserves all the consequences.

The only dance masters I could have were Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Walt Whitman and Nietzsche.

My first idea of movement, of the dance, certainly came from the rhythm of the wave.

Perhaps he was a bit different from other people, but what really sympathetic person is not a little mad?