Ann Reinking Quotes

Poetry is always slightly mysterious, and you wonder what is your relationship to it.

A picture is a poem without words.

Verbs allow you to communicate a story in a much more converged or involuntary way for a reader. The verbs allow you to come in under the radar, below people's defenses.

Acting is about communicating, reacting, and sharing - and friendship is about all of those things, too.

I think of action as a dance. It's a riddle; it should have emotion in it.

I'm a big fan of lyrics - lyrics are the thing that move me in certain ways.

I've always loved color because it's a little bit like music. I love that it seems to be both physical and ephemeral and engages us as a metaphor for our feeling lives.

I ain't got much to say.

I think that's what poets try to do: They try to sidestep neurology and go straight to meaning.

Sometimes a couple notes are worth a thousand words.

For better or worse, poetry is my life.

Poetry is this gorgeous, complex history rendered in verse and song, a blueprint that can lead you back into the world after you've walked into air.

People trust my voice. And my expertise, honestly, is not political science. It's emotion and expression and sort of presence, you know?

Acting - you're taking someone else's visions and someone else's inspirations, and it's up to you to portray that to everyone watching the film.

Silence can be a very powerful tool. Sometimes it's more powerful to leave you with nothing.

Music is something so mystical, so unexplainably a thing you cannot put in the rules or boundaries, you know? It speaks about our feelings about questions of life and death. It goes absolutely beyond any kind of rules.

One thing that's really important to me in my music is mystery.

A musical is what happens when text collides with motion collides with song collides with spectacle. And spectacle can be the human heart; it doesn't necessarily have to be a helicopter crashing.

Sometimes we wish the world could cry and tell us about that which made it pregnant with fear-filling grandeur. Sometimes we wish our own heart would speak of that which made it heavy with wonder.

To the questioning glance of love, as it flashes out and then conceals itself, speech has no reply; the smile, the kiss, the sigh answer.

Reason speaks in words alone, but love has a song.

Anyone who realises what Love is, the dedication of the heart, so profound, so absorbing, so mysterious, so imperative, and always just in the noblest natures so strong, cannot fail to see how difficult, how tragic even, must often be the fate of those whose deepest feelings are destined from the earliest days to be a riddle and a stumbling-block, unexplained to themselves, passed over in silence by others.

A work of art is one of mystery, the one extreme magic; everything else is either arithmetic or biology.

Everybody prays whether [you think] of it as praying or not. The odd silence you fall into when something very beautiful is happening or something very good or very bad. The ah-h-h-h! that sometimes floats up out of you as out of a Fourth of July crowd when the sky-rocket bursts over the water. The stammer of pain at somebody else s pain. The stammer of joy at somebody else's joy. Whatever words or sounds you use for sighing with over your own life. These are all prayers in their way.