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Dancing: Quotations from Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations
O give me new figures! I can't go on dancing The same that were taught me ten seasons ago; The schoolmaster over the land is advancing, Then why is the master of dancing so slow? It is such a bore to be always caught tripping In dull uniformity year after year; Invent something new, and you'll set me a skipping: I want a new figure to dance with my Dear!— THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY — Quadrille
Man yields to custom, as he bows to fate, In all things ruled-mind, body, and estate; In pain, in sickness, we for cure apply To them we know not, and we know not why.— CRABBE — Tale III. The Gentleman Farmer. L. 86.
The laws of conscience, which we pretend to be derived from nature, proceed from custom.— MONTAIGNE — Of Custom and Law. Ch. XXII.
Montaigne is wrong in declaring that custom ought to be followed simply because it is custom, and not because it is reasonable or just.— PASCAL — Thoughts. Ch. IV. 6.
But to my mind, though I am native here, And to the manner born, it is a custom More honor'd in the breach than the observance.— Shakespeare — Hamlet. Act I. Sc. 4. L. 15.
Custom calls me to 't: What custom wills, in all things should we do't, The dust on antique time would lie unswept, And mountainous error be too highly heap't For truth to o'erpeer.— Shakespeare — Coriolanus. Act II. Sc. 3. L. 124.
New customs, Though they be never so ridiculous, Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are followed.— Shakespeare — Henry VIII. Act I. Sc. 3. L. 3.
That monster, custom, *** is angel yet in this, That to the use of actions fair and good He likewise gives a frock or livery, That aptly is put on.— Shakespeare — Hamlet. Act III. Sc. 4. L. 161.
The tyrant custom, most grave senators, Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war My thrice-driven bed of down.— Shakespeare — Othello. Act I. Sc. 3. L. 230.
D. And then he danced; -all foreigners excel The serious Angles in the eloquence Of pantomime;-he danced, I say, right well, With emphasis, and also with good sense- A thing in footing indispensable: He danced without theatrical pretence, Not like a ballet-master in the van Of his drill'd nymphs, but like a gentle man.— BYRON — Don Juan. Canto XIV. St. 38,
A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell.— BYRON — Childe Harold. Canto III. St. 21.
Endearing Waltz-to thy more melting tune Bow Irish jig, and ancient rigadoon. Scotch reels, avaunt! and country-dance forego Your future claims to each fantastic toe! Waltz-Waltz alone-both legs and arms demands, Liberal of feet, and lavish of her hands.— BYRON — The Waltz. L. 109.
Hot from the hands promiscuously applied, Round the slight waist, or down the glowing side. C.— BYRON — The Waltz. L. 234.
Imperial Waltz! imported from the Rhine (Famed for the growth of pedigrees and wine), Long be thine import from all duty free, And hock itself be less esteem'd than thee.— BYRON — The Waltz. L. 29.
On with the dance! let joy be unconfin'd; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet.— BYRON — Childe Harold. Canto III. St. 22.
The rout is Folly's circle, which she draws With magic wand. So potent is the spell, That none decoy'd into that fatal ring, Unless by Heaven's peculiar grace, escape. There we grow early gray, but never wise.— COWPER — Task. Bk. II. L. 627.
Such pains, such pleasures now alike are o'er, And beaus and etiquette shall soon exist no more At their speed behold advancing Modern men and women dancing; Step and dress alike express Above, below from heel to toe, Male and female awkwardness. Without a hoop, without a ruffle, One eternal jig and shuffle, Where's the air and where's the gait? Where's the feather in the hat? Where the frizzed toupee? and where Oh! where's the powder for the hair?— CATHERINE FANSHAWE — The Abrogation
of the Birth-Night Ball. To brisk notes in cadence beating Glance their many-twinkling feet.— GRAY — Progress of Poesy. Pt. I. St. 3. L. 10.
Alike all ages: dames of ancient days Have led their children through the mirthful maze; And the gay grandsire, skill'd in gestic lore, Has frisk'd beneath the burden of threescore.— GOLDSMITH — Traveller. L. 251.
And the dancing has begun now, And the dancers whirl round gaily In the waltz's giddy mazes, And the ground beneath them trembles.— HEINE — Book of Songs. Don Ramiro. St. 23.
Twelve dancers are dancing, and taking no rest, And closely their hands together are press'd; And soon as a dance has come to a close, Another begins, and each merrily goes.— HEINE — Dream and Life.
Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows; Old folk and young together, and children mingled among them.— LONGFELLOW — Evangeline. Pt. I. IV.
He who esteems the Virginia reel A bait to draw saints from their spiritual weal, And regards the quadrille as a far greater knavery Than crushing His African children with slavery, Since all who take part in a waltz or cotillon Are mounted for hell on the devil's own pillion, Who, as every true orthodox Christian well knows, Approaches the heart through the door of the toes.— LOWELL — A Fable for Critics. L. 492.
Come and trip it as ye go, On the light fantastic toe.— MILTON — L'Allegro. L. 33.
Come, knit hands, and beat the ground In a light fantastic round.— MILTON — Comus. L. 143.
Dancing in the chequer'd shade.— MILTON — L'Allegro. L. 96.
Dear creature!-you'd swear When her delicate feet in the dance twinkle round, That her steps are of light, that her home is the air, And she only par complaisance touches the ground.— MOORE — The Fudge Family in Paris. Letter V. L. 50.
Oh! if to dance all night, and dress all day, Charm'd the small-pox, or chas'd old age away; * * * * * * To patch, nay ogle, might become a saint, Nor could it sure be such a sin to paint.— POPE — Rape of the Lock. Canto V. L. 19.
Others import yet nobler arts from France, Teach kings to fiddle, and make senates dance.— POPE — Dunciad. Bk. IV. L. 597.
I know the romance, since it's over, 'Twere idle, or worse, to recall ;- I know you're a terrible rover; But, Clarence, you'll come to our ball.— PRAED — Our Ball.
I saw her at a country ball; There when the sound of flute and fiddle Gave signal sweet in that old hall, Of hands across and down the middle, Hers was the subtlest spell by far Of all that sets young hearts romancing: She was our queen, our rose, our star; And when she danced-oh, heaven, her dancing!— PRAED — The Belle of the Ball.
He, perfect dancer, climbs the rope, And balances your fear and hope.— PRIOR — Alma, or the Progress of the Mind. Canto II. L. 9.
Once on a time, the wight Stupidity For his throne trembled, When he discovered in the brains of men Something like thoughts assembled, And so he searched for a plausible plan- One of validity, - And racked his brains, if rack his brains he can None having, or a very few! At last he hit upon a way For putting to rout, And driving out From our dull clay These same intruders new- This Sense, these Thoughts, these Speculative ills- What could he do? He introduced quadrilles.— RUSKIN — The Invention of Quadrilles.
They have measured many a mile, To tread a measure with you on this grass.— Shakespeare — Love's Labour's Lost. Act V. Sc. 2. L. 186.
When you do dance, I wish you A wave o' th' sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that.— Shakespeare — Winter's Tale. Act IV. Sc. 4. L. 140.
While his off-heel, insidiously aside, Provokes the caper which he seems to chide.— SHERIDAN — Pizarro. The Prologue.