Dancing may not be the perfect substitute for love, human love, but it certainly requires all the time and thought and energy that could otherwise be dedicated to love.

I recognized it immediately the first time it happened - the cackle of the crone. It is the sound of a woman who is caught inside the mystery of the universe, in the irony of the angst, in the place ego abhors. Bliss.

A toe shoe is as eccentric as the ballerina who wears it: their marriage is a commitment.

A brand-new pair of toe shoes presents itself to us as an enemy with a will of its own that must be tamed.

To live and to laugh require a reason. But dancing is so close to one's guts that it has no reason and yet it needs none; it's physical, and as a source of good cheer it is end endless.

We live only to dance. If living were not an essential prerequisite, we would abstain.

Dancing may not be the perfect substitute for love, human love, but it certainly requires all the time and thought and energy that could otherwise be dedicated to love.