If it sells, it's art.

New York is the biggest mouth in the world. It appears to be prime example of the herd instinct, leading the universal urban conspiracy to beguile man from his birthright (the good ground), to hang him by his eyebrows from skyhooks above hard pavement, to crucify him, sell him, or be sold by him.

To me, young has no meaning. It's something you can do nothing about, nothing at all. But youth is a quality. And if you have it, you never lose it.

The present is the ever moving shadow that divides yesterday from tomorrow. In that lies hope.

Well, now that he's finished one building, he'll go write four books about it.

You can't make an architect. But you can open the doors and windows toward the light as you see it.

I wouldnt mind seeing opera die. Ever since I was a boy, I regarded opera as a ponderous anachronism, almost the equivalent of smoking.