“I can act. I can sing. But I am a dancer”

People are at their happiest if they are true to themselves.

I know when I’m bad, I know when I’m good, and I know when I’m everything in between.

I made jokes about kissing Murphy Brown. But if that’s what cost me my job, my wife will probably say, “Hey asshole, I told you so”.

One of the things that’s great about doing a show over and over again… is that you have to find ways to make it spontaneous, as though everything is happening for the first time… to continue to mine the material and find new things.

When you’re a dancer who is injured, you are at the bottom of the food chain. We are so replaceable.

I’ve been on stage since I was 7. That’s where I’d rather be than anywhere else. Just because you can do a bunch of things doesn’t mean you are a bunch of things.

I’ve seen some very beautiful drag queens.

People make snap judgments about me that are frequently misguided.

I don’t have any delusions of grandeur or delusions of failure. In terms of my work, I’ve got a pretty cold honest eye.

There was one person [opening] the door with a butter knife and another person kicking the door in so I could get a photo. He’s decapitated, but totally nude. And he’s really well-endowed.

It’s a blessing as an artist to express myself – whether that be via dance, via song or via speech – in so many different ways.

I don’t feel complete. It doesn’t feel like the electricity is making its connections

I’m not a performer who will come on stage and tell you everything about my life. It’s just not who I am.

Anything that I do, I try to make it as good as I possibly can.

Part of the success of the show is that the audience sees themselves in the characters, becomes the characters. The more they inhabit the characters, the more they see.

Kirstie [Alley] saved me, in a way. [At the time], I had a terrible marriage, and I stayed at her house.

The universe lies before you on the floor, in the air, in the mysterious bodies of your dancers, in your mind.

I want one word on my tombstone – dancer.

The acrobat is lost in a web of muscles the dancer is all but invisible in projected idea.

Dancers don’t get invited to visit people. It is assumed a boy dancer will run off with the spoons and a girl with the head of the house.

Modern dancers give a sinister portent about our times. The dancers don’t even look at one another.

Dancers aren’t made of their technique, but their passion.

Eclecticism is the word. Like a jazz musician who creates his own style out of the styles around him, I play by ear.

If I ever have any back-up dancers, I want the penguins from Madagascar.