The Atlantic Ocean was something then.

However, the moral center of New York City, I believe, is the New York City Ballet.

And it is always Easter Sunday at the New York City Ballet. It is always coming back to life. Not even coming back to life - it lives in the constant present.

What we're dealt with hopefully is two arms, two eyes, two legs, a head, a heart. The variations, the extensions, the possibilities of the human body, what that can do

We live in a world where amnesia is the most wished-for state. When did history become a bad word?

Oh god, I'd just hate it if a certain dramaturg got a hold of a Pinter play, for example, which are all mystery and all music. That's how the life get's sucked out of plays.

We're all where we come from. We all have our roots.