“I dance like I have a chip on my shoulder. I dance salsa.”
“I liked those ladies! They were helpers, and they danced.' These are the words I want on my gravestone: that I was a helper, and that I danced.”
“You like salsa, though?” she asked, looking incredulously at him. “Sure I do. I get to grope and show off a beautiful woman while I choose the steps and direct the dance. What more would a controlling bastard like me want?”
“I like the way he danced. And then I like the way we danced together.”
“It was as if gravity was suspended. It was like dancing, I thought, although I had never danced in my whole life. We were never to walk like that again.”
“I have danced with the spider. I have cut a caper with the dancing mad god.”