“Her smile was the only tune that my happiness danced to.”

If I got a star for every time you made me smile I’d have enough to fill my own universe and I’d take you there with me.

As the last cold drops of rain splattered across my face; I watched the dark, ominous clouds fade away; undressing an amalgam of exquisite colors. My soul blushed. The rainbow was warm, beautiful, and poetic. Like a love letter from god.

Love comes in different shapes and sizes. But most importantly it comes in different colors.

She was a walking plague. No. A living epidemic. Everyone who got close to her showed severe symptoms of being helplessly in love.

I dipped my heart into the river Styx, holding on to nothing but my memories of you. You’ll always be the Achilles heel to my invulnerable heart.

“May I have this dance”, my tongue asked hers.

Her smile was the only tune that my happiness danced to.

My pent-up passion seeped out like gas from a leaky stove, your touch was the spark I needed to set my body on fire.

I held a funeral for my past. But on occasion, I find myself dropping by its grave with pink roses to thank it for all lessons it taught me.

You reminded me of my first time in Paris; I was fascinated, lost, and I immediately loved everything about it.

We just sat there, staring into each other’s eyes. In the silence, I swear I could hear the beating wings of an angel.

Like sunshine at midnight, you were there for me at my darkest hour when you had absolutely no reason to.

Permanence is a wonderful magician. Now you see him, next he goes on to perform the greatest disappearing act of all time.

I let my mind wander and it always finds its way back to you. like a sweet-toothed child in search of a cookie jar.

Gone, but never forgotten. Like the catchy tune to an old song that I used to love.

Get off your high horse, The entire world doesn’t revolve around you, only mine does.

Dance is communication, and so the great challenge is to speak clearly, beautifully and with inevitability.

The next time you look into the mirror, just look at the way the ears rest next to the head; look at the way the hairline grows; think of all the little bones in your wrist. It is a miracle. And the dance is a celebration of that miracle.

The reason dance has held such an ageless magic for the world is that it has been the symbol of the performance of living.

Modern dance isn’t anything except one thing in my mind: the freedom of women in America.

My dancing is not an attempt to interpret life in the literary sense. It is an affirmation of life through movement.

When you start with an idea, or something hits you, then you have to follow that through to the end, and it’s the following through to the end that makes the pattern. That, for me, is choreography.

The secret to dancing is that it is about everything except dancing.

I did not choose to be a dancer. I was chosen.