Endurance is patience concentrated.
When you are on stage, you don't see faces. The lights are in your eyes and you see just this black void out in front of you. And yet you know there is life out there, and you have to get your message across.
I believe that we learn by practice... it is the performance of a dedicated precise set of acts, physical or intellectual, from which come shape of achievement, a sense of one's being, a satisfaction of spirit.
Dance is the hidden langauge of the soul, of the body.
I liked the structure of ballet.
I saw a spider, I didn't scream 'Cause I can belch the alphabet Just double dog dare me And I chose guitar over ballet And I tape these suckers down 'Cause they just get in my way The way you look at me Is kind of like a little sister You high five your goodbyes And it leaves me nothing but blisters So I don't want to be one of the boys.
The dance world is too small in lots of ways - it's too intense, it rattles around itself, and it needs exposing to other ideas.
Then come the lights shining on you from above. You are a performer. You forget all you learned, the process of technique, the fear, the pain, you even forget who you are you become one with the music, the lights, indeed one with the dance.
I danced with passion to spite the music.
The highest heels I do are six-inch heels - but mostly only dancers can wear them, since they are used to being on point in ballet shoes. Their feet are arched.
To dance is to be out of yourself. Larger, more beautiful, more powerful. This is power, it is glory on earth and it is yours for the taking.
A pas de deux is a dialogue of love. How can there be conversation if one partner is dumb?
If I didn't have kids, I would be at the theater or the ballet every single night of my life.
The paintings that laughed at him merrily from the walls were like nothing he had ever seen or dreamed of. Gone were the flat, thin surfaces. Gone was the sentimental sobriety. Gone was the brown gravy in which Europe had been bathing its pictures for centuries. Here were pictures riotously mad with the sun. With light and air and throbbing vivacity. Paintings of ballet girls backstage, done in primitive reds, greens, and blues thrown next to each other irreverantly. He looked at the signature. Degas.
At the time I started in ballet they were dancing 'The Spirit of Champagne' on pointe, in Paris. I thought, 'I don't want to dance the spirit of champagne, I want to drink it!
It is sweet to dance to violins When love and life are fair: To dance to flutes, to dance to lutes Is delicate and rare: But it is not sweet with nimble feet To dance upon the air!
The Opera ghost really existed. He was not, as was long believed, a creature of the imagination of the artists, the superstition of the managers, or a product of the absurd and impressionable brains of the young ladies of the ballet, their mothers, the box-keepers, the cloak-room attendants or the concierge. Yes, he existed in flesh and blood, although he assumed the complete appearance of a real phantom; that is to say, of a spectral shade.
My life isn’t theories and formulae. It’s part instinct, part common sense. Logic is as good a word as any, and I’ve absorbed what logic I have from everything and everyone… from my mother, from training as a ballet dancer, from Vogue magazine, from the laws of life and health and nature.
The funny thing about writing is that whether you're doing well or doing it poorly, it looks the exact same. That's actually one of the main ways that writing is different from ballet dancing.
Many other women have kicked higher, balanced longer, or turned faster. These are poor substitutes for passion.
Yo, dumbass. What do you think she’d be doing with them? Giving them ballet lessons? (Darling) Tell me again why I can’t kill him? (Hauk) You’re afraid of handling explosives. (Nykyrian) One day I’m going to get over that and when I do…(Hauk) I’ll wisely stop annoying you. (Darling)
you...are...a...frige...with...wings...we...are...freaking...ballet...dancers!
I think classical ballet dancers dance on pointe because they're simultaneously touching the earth and reaching up to the skies
I don't really dance for pleasure much." "Uh--so you, uh, usually dance professionally, or what?" Seb asked. "Yeah," said Nick. "The ballet is my passion.
As a child I often wondered whether I would be allowed to live such moments- to inhabit the slow, majestic ballet of the snowflakes, to be released at last from the dreary frenzy of time. Is that what it feels to be naked? All one's clothes are gone, yet one's mind is overladen with finery.
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