Best 390 quotes in «ballet quotes» category

But it's this one boy, hanging over a barre, sharing his history, who ended up here with me, in this moment, by pure fate. I wonder what it would be like to kiss him.

By disparaging ballet he succeeded very well in convincing the boys that ballet was not for Americans, that it was European in origin and in continuing character.

Dance resides within us all. Some find it when joy conquers sorrow, others express it through celebration of movements; and then there are those... whose existence is dance,

Classic Ballet, Keep away, keep building your creaky fairy castles, keep cloning clones and meaningless manners, hang on to your beanstalk ballerinas and their midget male shadows, run yourself out of business with your tons of froufrou and costly clattery toe shoes that ruin all chances for illusions of lightness, keep on crowding the minds of blind balletomanes who prefer dainty poses to the eloquent strength of momentum, who have forgotten or never known the manings of gesture, who would nod their noses to barefoot embargos ("so grab me" spelt backwards). Continue to repolish your stiff technique and to ignore a public that hungers for something other than a bag of tricks and the empty-headedness of surface patterns. Just keep it up, keep imitating yourself, and, , go grow your own dance makers. Come on, don't keep trying to filter modern ones through your so-safe extablishment. We're to be seen undiluted, undistorted, not absorbed by your hollow world like blood into a sponge. Yours truly, A Different Leaf on Our Family Tree

Did any of you ever see Doctor Tetrazzini perform? I say perform advisedly because his operations were performances. He would start by throwing a scalpel across the room into the patient and then make his entrance as a ballet dancer. His speed was incredible: "I don't give them time to die", he would say. Tumors put him in a frenzy of rage. "Fucking undisciplined cells!" he would snarl, advancing on the tumor like a knife-fighter.

Hearts shall dance once again; when canvas of ice is painted with the brush of skates.

I can’t think of a better way to start my day.” “Get used to it,” he murmured, right before he kissed her.

I made the sympathetic face, and the interested face, and even the impressed face. I did not say, 'In the name of all that is holy, cease this incessant drivel, you pretentious ass.

It [ballet] is a perfect medium for the expression of spiritual love.

Dance less in motion and more in spirit; awaken the dreamer within.

Every child has known God, Not the God of names, Not the God of don'ts, Not the God who ever does Anything weird, But the God who knows only 4 words And keeps repeating them, saying: "Come Dance with Me." Come Dance.

Her body was so slim, so… everything. His hands began to twitch with the need to touch her. Wearing deep purple lace to cover her breasts, she looked so damn perfect. Then she sighed his name. And he was lost

He was just about to move when he felt her kiss his shoulder and his chest. She was curled up against him with her hand resting low on his stomach and clearly, she was waking up. A man could easily get used to this kind of an alarm clock. “Mmm…” she purred against his skin. “Good morning.” It certainly was. “Good morning.” Abby stretched right before she slowly climbed on top of him, straddling him. Yeah, a man could definitely get used to this.

I feel his arm Lightly Over me. He takes one of my outstretched hands. Draws it beneath my stomach. "One more time..." This is not sex, Not friendship. Something Strange Special In the stillness of his breath, The waterlike way he moves. He is making a dance. We are making a dance.

I kept wanting to go back on the stage and do it again since I had so much fun and felt so accomplished. It seemed that I had regained a lot of the confidence that I knew I had years before when I performed onstage all the time.

I knew that I just didn't have it in me to give up, even if I sometimes felt like a fool for continuing to believe.

It [ballet] projects a fragile kind of strength and a certain inflexible precision.

Most men suck at communicating, Abby. Like, they seriously suck at it. I've been married for over thirty years and I can say this with great certainty.

It's time to write our own story.

Miss Dearheart gave him a very brief look, and shook her head. There was movement under the table, a small fleshy kind of noise and the drunk suddenly bent forward, colour draining from his face. Probably only he and Moist heard Miss Dearheart purr: ‘What is sticking in your foot is a Mitzy “Pretty Lucretia” four-inch heel, the most dangerous footwear in the world. Considered as pounds per square inch, it’s like being trodden on by a very pointy elephant. Now, I know what you’re thinking: you’re thinking, “Could she press it all the way through to the floor?” And, you know, I’m not sure about that myself. The sole of your boot might give me a bit of trouble, but nothing else will. But that’s not the worrying part. The worrying part is that I was forced practically at knifepoint to take ballet lessons as a child, which means I can kick like a mule; you are sitting in front of me; and I have another shoe . Good, I can see you have worked that out. I’m going to withdraw the heel now.’ There was a small ‘pop’ from under the table. With great care the man stood up, turned and, without a backward glance, lurched unsteadily away. ‘Can I bother you?’ said Moist. Miss Dearheart nodded, and he sat down, with his legs crossed. ‘He was only a drunk,’ he ventured. ‘Yes, men say that sort of thing,’ said Miss Dearheart.

Music does not need language of words for it has movements of dance to do its translation.

Soar like an eagle beyond skies of heavens reach; as wings of dreams dance with winds of reality.

Slowly he walked into the room. Stalked, actually. That was the primitive side of him, how he felt. She didn’t move. She simply watched him approach. “I was afraid you weren’t coming,” Abby whispered after a moment and Dean caught the double entendre. “Sweetheart, trust me when I say that where you’re concerned, that’s never going to be a problem.

Sweetheart, wherever you are, that’s where I’ll be. Forever.

Stabbings, shooting, rapes, homicides -- the denizens of places like the Elk brought those crimes along with them the way ordinary travelers carried luggage.

The flowing movements and relaxing music softens the sense and release the soul. This way my students not only enjoy moving their bodies with ease, but they also have the satisfaction of knowing that they can benefit from this Art for as long as they shall live (that I presume will be much longer than the expected if they continue on their routine of practicing my "BalletTao") At my primary school, a colleague was reading a text out loud when he kicked this word: Ballet, which is pronounced with a soundless T. He hesitated and then read: Ballet accentuating the T in the end. It sounded like: Ballet-Chi. Who would guess that one day I would accept this as the correct way to use this word?" The Dao Workbook Illustrated

The stares were annoying, but I knew they didn’t mean any harm. So, every morning, smiling at them became part of my routine, too.

Sempre, cazzo, sempre un passo indietro. Sempre un minuto in ritardo. Sempre un sogno avanti. Non voglio che sia così anche con Abbi. Sono determinato a non restare dietro di lei, ma nemmeno davanti. La conosco solo da tre settimane e ho ancora fresca nella memoria la prima volta che l’ho vista. Voglio starle accanto, passo dopo passo. All’unisono con lei. A lezione. Sul palcoscenico. Per strada. Nei passi di danza e nei passi di tutti i giorni.

That day and night, the bleeding and the screaming, had knocked something askew for Esme, like a picture swinging crooked on a wall. She loved the life she lived with her mother. It was beautiful. It was, she sometimes thought, a sweet emulation of the fairy tales they cherished in their lovely, gold-edged books. They sewed their own clothes from bolts of velvet and silk, ate all their meals as picnics, indoors or out, and danced on the rooftop, cutting passageways through the fog with their bodies. They embroidered tapestries of their own design, wove endless melodies on their violins, charted the course of the moon each month, and went to the theater and the ballet as often as they liked--every night last week to see Swan Lake again and again. Esme herself could dance like a faerie, climb trees like a squirrel, and sit so still in the park that birds would come to perch on her. Her mother had taught her all that, and for years it had been enough. But she wasn't a little girl anymore, and she had begun to catch hints and glints of another world outside her pretty little life, one filled with spice and poetry and strangers.

When the melody plays, footsteps move, heart sings and spirit begin to dance.

This book's like black holes. It really engulfes you whole.

Yet for a moment it seemed to him that the men who had dragged marble from Italy and porphyry from Portugal, who had ransacked the jungle for its rarest woods and paid their millions to build this opulent and fantastical theatre, had done so in order that a young girl with loose brown hair should move across its stage, drawing her future from its empty air.

When the doctors came in a little while later saying they thought they knew my diagnosis, I was afraid to know.

You consider me for a moment, perhaps balancing the weight of your fear against the loneliness you will later feel in your room if you do not speak now

A good education is usually harmful to a dancer. A good calf is better than a good head.

All dancers have a cumulative tendency, because each beat of the tom-tom has an almost irresistible appeal. Soon, those who were just spectators would dance too.

We act as a conduit for the observers’ unexpressed desires, the silent appreciation they may contain for anything; a lover, a river, a building even

World seems like a void of silence every time footsteps are deprived of dancing shoes.

A brand-new pair of toe shoes presents itself to us as an enemy with a will of its own that must be tamed.

A dance performance is rather like going out into a battlefield. You have to hold the attention of as many as five to 10,000 people a lot of whom do not follow your language.

A dancer, more than any other human being, dies two deaths: the first, the physical when the powerfully trained body will no longer respond as you would wish. After all, I choreographed for myself. I never choreographed what I could not do. I changed steps in Medea and other ballets to accommodate the change. But I knew. And it haunted me. I only wanted to dance.

A fine picture is but the image of nature; a finished ballet is nature herself.

All ballet, all reading, all music. That was my world, my inner world.

Americans will be amazed to find ho many of the modern dance steps are relics of the African heritage.

A mistake is simply another way of doing things

Although we do come from a silent profession, it is important for us to verbalize what we want to say. (As I tell my students): you could love someone all your life, but if you never say it how are they going to know? There comes a point when you have to say what you mean, which makes you scream louder when you dance.

Always the question for dancers is: Can we fly?

Another friend began to say, "Well, Quentin has a problem of adjusting himself to society and he..." This sentence was never finished. The ballet teacher expostulated, "I don't agree. Quentin does exactly as he pleases. The rest of us have to adapt ourselves to him.

A pas de deux is a dialogue of love. How can there be conversation if one partner is dumb?

As a child I often wondered whether I would be allowed to live such moments- to inhabit the slow, majestic ballet of the snowflakes, to be released at last from the dreary frenzy of time. Is that what it feels to be naked? All one's clothes are gone, yet one's mind is overladen with finery.