The World I'm Interested In Is The

No Artist Is Pleased. There Is No Satisfaction Whatever At Any Time. There Is Only A Strange, Divine Dissatisfaction, A Blessed Unrest That Keeps Us Marching And Makes Us More Alive Than The Others.

Repetition Not For Monotony But The Ecstasy It Induces.

You See, When Weaving A Blanket, An Indian Woman Leaves A Flaw In The Weaving Of That Blanket To Let The Soul Out.

My Dancing Is Not An Attempt To Interpret Life In The Literary Sense. It Is An Affirmation Of Life Through Movement.

Dancing Is Just Discovery, Discovery, Discovery - What It All Means, The Way The Little Bone Near The Ankle Relates Itself To The Floor For A Perfect Stance, A Perfect Plie.