I Get Up, I Fall Down, All

To Me, A Building - If It's Beautiful - Is The Love Of One Man, He's Made It Out Of His Love For Space, Materials, Things Like That.

The Body Is Your Instrument In Dance, But Your Art Is Outside That Creature, The Body. I Don't Leap And Jump Anymore. I Look At Young Dancers, And I Am Envious, More Aware Of What Glories The Body Contains. But Sensitivity Is Not Made Dull By Age.

Looking At The Past Is Like Lolling In A Rocking Chair. It Is So Relaxing And You Can Rock Back And Forth On The Porch, And Never Go Forward.

We Learn By Practice. Whether It Means To Learn To Dance By Practicing Dancing Or To Learn To Live By Practicing Living, The Principles Are The Same. One Becomes In Some Area An Athlete Of God.

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.