“I am love, I am music, she thinks. Let’s dance.”

“Why am I afraid to dance, I who love music and rhythm and grace and song and laughter? Why am I afraid to live, I who love life and the beauty of flesh and the living colors of the earth and sky and sea? Why am I afraid to love, I who love love?”

“I am tough for a reason and it is to fucking destroy the music. I dance hard.”

“My day is done, and I am like a boat drawn on the beach, listening to the dance-music of the tide in the evening.”

“Now I am going to reveal to you something which is very pure, a totally white thought. It is always in my heart; it blooms at each of my steps... The Dance is love, it is only love, it alone, and that is enough... I, then, it is amorously that I dance: to poems, to music but now I would like to no longer dance to anything but the rhythm of my soul.”

“Let’s not talk about how I am. It’s a subject I know too much about to want to think about anymore.”