Ballet.something pure in this crazy world
People strangely revere dance. They see it as another world, and dancers are somehow mysterious - just because they don't speak.
The dancer's trembling heart must bring everything into harmony, from the tips of her shoes to the flutter of her eyelashes, from the ruffles of her dress to the incessant play of her fingers.
Ballet is sort of a mystery to me. And I don't want to unravel that mystery.
The dancer's body is simply the luminous manifestation of the soul.
I used to watch old clips of Muhammad Ali, where he'd be talking the jive during interviews, you know, 'Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, rumble, man, rumble.'
in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems
Most ballets are more interesting than most men.
I don't see why a poem couldn't be spoken out a car window or written on the beach at low tide. In fact, I'm sure people are doing it.
He moved like a dancer, which is not surprising; a horse is a beautiful animal, but it is perhaps most remarkable because it moves as if it always hears music.
They may have been ugly. They may have been evil. But when it came to poetry in motion, the Things had all the grace and coordination of a deck-chair.
Another power I don't have," said Lissa ruefully. I grinned. "Hey, I have yet to meet any spirit user who can throw a punch like you can. That was poetry in motion, Liss." She groaned.
