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In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present.

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing. And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

Music is moonlight in the gloomy night of life.

In Sleep we lie all naked and alone, in Sleep we are united at the heart of night and darkness, and we are strange and beautiful asleep; for we are dying the darkness and we know no death.

Truly, it is in darkness that one finds the light, so when we are in sorrow, then this light is nearest of all to us.

Here, like everywhere else, laughing and singing, dancing and dreaming are not exactly the whole of reality; and for one ray of sun shining on the hut, the rest of the village remains in the dark.

The dance is a poem of which each movement is a word.

Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.