Renee Godding

“In a way, I thought, our bodies are just containers. I’d always assumed that we have the capacity to absorb the world, to endlessly store everything that we come across. But as we sat there in silence, I began to question whether there were, in fact, things that could overflow from us. Is that what the Beacons were: people who had become too full?”
― An Yu, Sunbirth

“What I didn't know then: coming of age isn't something you can choreograph, and it doesn't happen all at once. You start the process; you stall; you regress; and then comes another growth spurt. Eventually, your path looks like a series of paw prints in the snow-layered, as if compelled by confusion or curiosity-that double back before veering off in the direction of destiny.”
― Tory Henwood Hoen, Before I Forget

“Grief is a running tap, a closed cabinet, chopsticks touching bowls, teeth chewing. I’d never imagined that would be the case. I hadn’t expected it to slip into everything.”
― An Yu, Sunbirth

“There’s no notation of ballet. It has to be passed on in real time, one living body to another. If a dancer dies without teaching the dance, the dance dies too. Of course there are films of people dancing Gisele, but for over a 100 years it had been passed between muscle and bone, and no version was present except in the moment. Dance, I thought, is presence. It is movement in the absence of past and future time.”
― Sarah Moss, Ripeness