#ballet

I got kicked out of ballet class because I pulled a groin muscle. It wasn't mine. ↗

— Rita Rudner

#because #class #got #groin #i

You can't drink on an eight hour flight, pass out, and then go onstage... well you can, but then you're Spandau Ballet. ↗

— Robert Smith

#drink #eight #flight #go #hour

My grandmother had a Miss Margaret's School of Dance to teach tap and ballet to kids, but I never studied it. I was raised a Mormon and they're dancing fools. It's the only vice they have - dancing. ↗

— Michelle Shocked

#dance #dancing #fools #grandmother #had

You have to love dancing to stick to it. It gives you nothing back, no manuscripts to store away, no paintings to show on walls and maybe hang in museums, no poems to be printed and sold, nothing but that single fleeting moment when you feel alive. ↗

— Merce Cunningham

#dance #inspirational #merce-cunningham #inspirational

I'm enamored with the art world. Anytime you look at anything that's considered artistic, there's a commercial world around it: the ballet, opera, any kind of music. It can't exist without it. ↗

— Steve Martin

#anything #anytime #around #art #art world

When I've done gymnastics, ballet or soccer - I was always trying to be the best. I'm really driven. Really driven. ↗

— Chloe Moretz

#ballet #best #done #driven #gymnastics

The ballet makes us look at those bodies, it makes us listen to that music, it makes us wonder at the geometry, of the way they come together. The way that extraordinary space is controlled and given such emotional force. ↗

— John Guare

#bodies #come #controlled #emotional #extraordinary

But he had never seen Myrna in practice...never that close up. He had been impressed and a little frightened by the contrast between seeing ballet on stange, where everyone seemed to either glide or mince effortlessly on the tips of their pointes. and seeing it from less than five feet away, with harsh daylight pouring in the floor-to-ceiling windows and no music- only the choreographer rythmically clapping his hands and yelling harsh criticisms. No praise, only criticisms. Their faces ran with sweat. Their leotards were wet with sweat. The room, as large and airy as it way, stank of sweat. Sleek muscles trembled and fluttered on the nervous edge of exhaustion. Corded tendons stood out like insulated cables. Throbbing veins popped out on foreheads and necks. Except for the choreographer's clapping and angry, hectoring shouts, the only sounds were the thrup-thud of ballet dancers on pointe moving across the floor and harsh, agonized panting for breath. Jack had suddenly realized that these dancers were not just earning a living, they were killing themselves. Most of all he remembered their expressions- all that exhausted concentration, all that pain... but transcending the pain, or at least creeping around its edges, he had seen joy. Joy was unmistakably what that look was, and it scared Jack because it had seemed inexplicable. ↗

— Stephen King

#music