There Is A Force, A

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.

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.

You Give All Your Life To Doing This One Thing. It Sounds Grim, It Sounds Frightening - It Isn't - It Has A Great Gaiety At Times And A Great Wonder.

I Did Not Choose To Be A Dancer. I Was Chosen.

Think Of The Magic Of That Foot, Comparatively Small, Upon Which Your Whole Weight Rests. It's A Miracle, And The Dance Is A Celebration Of That Miracle.