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Shah Asad Rizvi

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“It was a sordid scene. Philip leaned over the rail, staring down, and he ceased to hear the music. They danced furiously. They danced round the room, slowly, talking very little, with all their attention given to the dance. The room was hot, and their faces shone with sweat. It seemed to Philip that they had thrown off the guard which people wear on their expression, the homage to convention, and he saw them now as they really were. In that moment of abandon they were strangely animal: some were foxy and some were wolflike; and others had the long, foolish face of sheep. Their skins were sallow from the unhealthy life the led and the poor food they ate. Their features were blunted by mean interests, and their little eyes were shifty and cunning. There was nothing of nobility in their bearing, and you felt that for all of them life was a long succession of petty concerns and sordid thoughts. The air was heavy with the musty smell of humanity. But they danced furiously as though impelled by some strange power within them, and it seemed to Philip that they were driven forward by a rage for enjoyment. They were seeking desperately to escape from a world of horror. The desire for pleasure which Cronshaw said was the only motive of human action urged them blindly on, and the very vehemence of the desire seemed to rob it of all pleasure. The were hurried on by a great wind, helplessly, they knew not why and they knew not whither. Fate seemed to tower above them, and they danced as though everlasting darkness were beneath their feet. Their silence was vaguely alarming. It was as if life terrified them and robbed them of power of speech so that the shriek which was in their hearts died at their throats. Their eyes were haggard and grim; and notwithstanding the beastly lust that disfigured them, and the meanness of their faces, and the cruelty, notwithstanding the stupidness which was the worst of all, the anguish of those fixed eyes made all that crowd terrible and pathetic. Philip loathed them, and yet his heart ached with the infinite pity which filled him. He took his coat from the cloak-room and went out into the bitter coldness of the night.”

PleasureFateHorrorDancePityAnguishSordid
Book:Of Human Bondage
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“Audience of angels descend in the ambiance reciting praises in your glory, when you wear your dance shoes, when you arrive at the stage and with every step you take beneath your feet heaven moves. That is the power of dance.”

WritingPhilosophyInspirational QuotesPoetryArtistQuotesLife QuotesMotivational QuotesMovementPoetWords Of WisdomQuoteDancingDancePhilosopherQuote Of The DayAuthorDancerWriterBalletArtistsGymnasticsFigure SkatingRumiChoreographyDance QuotesArtists QuotesBallerinaBallet DancerMotionBallroomTangoDance FloorSalsaDance ClassDance QuoteFreestyleBallroom DanceBallroom DancingWord PornDance LifeIce SkatingTap DanceFlamencoModern DanceMovementsBelly DanceLatin DanceBachataSalsa DanceChoreographerDanzaBailaSambaShah Asad RizviBelly DancingDance StudioRaqs SharqiBailandoDance ShoesDance PhotographyFigure SkaterContemporary DanceDance AcademyDance CostumeElectronic DanceJazz DanceKathakReggae DanceStreet DanceZoukBelly DancerBhangraBoogie WoogieDance WearDancehall DanceDisco DanceDisco DancingFolk DanceMamboReggaetonSwaySwing DanceZumba DanceKizombaDance FestivalDance Show
Author:Shah Asad Rizvi
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“Muchos años después, frente al pelotón de fusilamiento, el coronel Aureliano Buendía había de recordar aquella tarde remota en que su padre lo llevó a conocer el hielo. Macondo era entonces una aldea de 20 casas de barro y cañabrava construidas a la orilla de un río de aguas diáfanas que se precipitaban por un lecho de piedras pulidas, blancas y enormes como huevos prehistóricos. El mundo era tan reciente, que muchas cosas carecían de nombre, y para mencionarlas había que señalarlas con el dedo".”

Inspirational
Book:Cien años de soledad
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“We can all take pictures but not everyone can capture the beauty that's usually hidden in plain view... We can all open our mouth to sing but not everyone can can melodically touch your soul... We can all pick up a pen to write but not everyone can write words in such a way that they leap off of the page for you... We can all part our lips to speak but not everyone can speak life into you... We can all move our bodies to a beat but not everyone can become one with music, stir emotions and shift energy with dance... Point is: WE CAN all do something but Know your gifts, cultivate them and ALWAYS, ALWAYS BE YOURSELF! Then working together becomes effortless. Copies aren't accepted everywhere...ORIGINALS are eventually required!”

SpeakDanceWriteGiftsSingAuthenticOriginalSanjo JendayiCopy
Author:Sanjo Jendayi
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