Common sense and a sense of humor are the same thing, moving at different speeds. A sense of humor is just common sense, dancing.
Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.
Music begins to atrophy when it departs too far from the dance.
We ought to dance with rapture that we might be alive… and part of the living, incarnate cosmos.
The dance is a poem of which each movement is a word.
Dancing is just discovery, discovery, discovery.
Everything in the universe has rhythm. Everything dances.
Dancing is moving to the music without stepping on anyone’s toes, pretty much the same as life.
Dance is the hidden language of the soul.
Dancing is the loftiest, the most moving, the most beautiful of the arts, because it is not mere translation or abstraction from life; it is life itself.