“You don't enter a dance studio and say "I can't do that." If you do, then why are you in the studio in the first place?”

“He likes a day in the studio to end, he says, "when my knees are all skinned up and my pants are wet and my hair's off to one side and I feel like I've been in the foxhole all day. I don't think comfort is good for music. It's good to come out with skinned knuckles after wrestling with something you can't see. I like it when you come home at the end of the day from recording and someone says, "What happened to your hand?" And you don't even know. When you're in that place, you can dance on a broken ankle.”

“To show you how much I love you, I’d take you to the moon and back. Or try to fake it in a film studio.”

“So," says Lev, as casually as he can, "you wanna dance?" "Do you believe in the end of the world?" she responds. Lev shrugs. "I don't know. Why?" "Because the day after that is when I'll dance with you.”

“You may wonder which came first: the skill or the hard work. But that's a moot point. The Zen master cleans his own studio. So should you.”

“You can't say you can't do something if you dont try first”