I love working. I don't know what the word vacation means.

For me, every day is a new thing. I approach each project with a new insecurity, almost like the first project I ever did. And I get the sweats. I go in and start working, I'm not sure where I'm going. If I knew where I was going I wouldn't do it.

There's a drive in us to express ourselves in some way or form. We pick up whatever material is available. It's primitive. Kids see sand on the beach, build something and show their parents: "Look what I did, Mama." It's necessary to us.

I think the biggest problem with 'industrial' architecture is that it's lost its sense of humanity. Minimalist stuff drains all the humanity out of it. That idea works great for the money thing, but it doesn't work great for the feeling thing.

If you know where it's going, it's not worth doing.

An architect is given a program, budget, place, and schedule. Sometimes the end product rises to art - or at least people call it that.

Most of our cities built since the war are bland. They're modernist, they're cold, and now architects want to go back to that.