I Danced With Passion To Spite The

The Voices Of Moral Authority In The Theatre Demanded Only Punctuality And Physical Performance. In The Light Of Continuing Pressure And Stress, The Occasional Lip Service Paid To Moderation Was Meaningless. Starvation And Poisoning Were Not Excesses, But Measures Taken To Stay Within The Norm.

Ballet Is A Riddle Of Means And Ends.

The Nature Of My Compulsion Was Such That I Danced In My Sleep. The Entire Household Was Sometimes Awakened By Loud Thumping Sounds Coming From My Room.

As Soon As You Become Afraid To Make A Fool Of Yourself, You're In Trouble. I Decided I May As Well Just See If I Can Live With Myself Making Millions Of Mistakes And Learn Something From It.

The Dance Goes On Forever. So Shall I. So Shall We.