Dance has been transformed from an involuntary motor discharge, a ceremonial rite, into a work of art, conscious of, intended for, observation.
There is nothing greater than the joy of composing something oneself and then listening to it.
I once believed that I possessed creative talent, but I have given up this idea; a woman must not desire to compose — there has never yet been one able to do it. Should I expect to be the one?
Why hurry over beautiful things? Why not linger and enjoy them?
My imagination can picture no fairer happiness than to continue living for art.
Composing gives me great pleasure. . . there is nothing that surpasses the joy of creation, if only because through it one wins hours of self-forgetfulness, when one lives in a world of sound.
I wish to lead a life free from care, and I see that I shall be unhappy if I cannot always work at my art.
I'm looking forward to a future where there are roles of greater vulnerability and humor involved.
My forte was the middlegame. I had a good feeling for the critical moments of the play. This undoubtedly compensated for my lack of opening preparation and, possibly, not altogether perfect play in the endgame. In my games things often did not reach the endgame!
When life is good and we have no problems, we can almost let ourselves believe we have no need for God. But in my experience, sometimes the richest blessings come through pain and hard things.
The world needs Christians who don't tolerate the complacency of their own lives.