Memories Are Less Tangible Than Dreams.

There Are Joys So Complete, So All Perfect, That One Should Not Survive Them.

Oh Woman, Come Before Us, Before Our Eyes Longing For Beauty, And Tired Of The Ugliness Of Civilization, Come In Simple Tunics, Letting Us See The Line And Harmony Of The Body Beneath, And Dance For Us. Dance Us The Sweetness Of Life. Give Us Again The Sweetness And The Beauty Of The True Dance, Give Us Again The Joy Of Seeing The Simple Unconscious Pure Body Of A Woman. Like A Great Call It Has Come, And Women Must Hear It And Answer It.

For I Was Never Able To Understand, Then Or Later On, Why, If One Wanted To Do A Thing, One Should Not Do It. For I Have Never Waited To Do As I Wished. This Has Frequently Brought Me To Disaster And Calamity, But At Least I Have Had The The Satisfaction Of Getting My Own Way.

It Seems To Me Monstrous That Anyone Should Believe That The Jazz Rhythm Expresses America. Jazz Rhythm Expresses The Primitive Savage.

The Only Dance Masters I Could Have Were Jean-jacques Rousseau, Walt Whitman And Nietzsche.