He wasn't good with this sort of thing - with the back-and-forth dance between man and woman. He wasn't even sure if they were dancing, or if she was merely being polite.

I was watching while you're dancing away,our love got fractured in the echo and sway.How come everybody wants to be your friend?You know that it still hurts me just to say it.

When she broke up with me, I didn’t break down or break in to her apartment just to break out of my funk. I didn’t break any dishes either, but I did break dance.


I’m the winner of the “Best Interpretive Dance” for my adaptation of Joyce’s Ulysses into crunk. That’s cool and all, but you should see my Dostoevsky.

It is a strange and wonderful and somewhat embarrassing feeling to hold someone in your arms who is trying to detach you from the earth and you aren't good enough to follow her.

The music of revelation announces itself to the reader in somber brooding tones or in melodies light as air and one is invited to dance with the most captivating of partners: poetry.

≫Du ved jo, hvad man siger: Når djævelen danser, skriger de i Himlen.≪ Hun lænede sig frem mod ham og tilføjede hviskende: ≫Af grin.≪

The philosopher's soul dwells in his head, the poet's soul is in his heart; the singer's soul lingers about his throat, but the soul of the dancer abides in all her body.

He treats his body like it's made of fireworks, each one timed to the beat. Is he dancing alone or dancing with everyone in the room? Here's the secret: It doesn't matter.

Hey, I notice you look like you're coming down off a meth binge and smell vaguely of algae. Were you perchance dancing with a snakebit Margo Roth Spiegelman a couple of hours ago?

I strike the ground with the soles of my feet and life rises up my legs, spreads up my skeleton, takes possession of me, drives away distress and sweetens my memory. The world trembles.

I have moves like a go-go dancer mixed with Inspector Gadget’s go-go gadget legs. Do I detect you thinking not with your brain but with your Brain, in that you want to hump my leg?

Human beings used to be molecules which could do many, many different sorts of dances, or decline to dance at all --as they pleased. My mother could do the waltz, the tango, the rumba....

He dances all night, utterly naked and composed of nothing but six and a half feet of pale sinew. He could dance to a field of crickets, to the sound of rain on a tin roof, to a stampede.

When love dissipates, it’s like dancing with daisies at midnight, and you don’t get easy at it when you’re deceased. And make no mistake, you will die before romance will.