Noble life demands a noble architecture for noble uses of noble men. Lack of culture means what it has always meant: ignoble civilization and therefore imminent downfall.

At night... the streets become rhythmical perspectives of glowing dotted lines, reflections hung upon them in the streets as the wistaria hangs its violet racemes on its trellis. The buildings are shimmering verticality, a gossamer veil, a festive scene-prop hanging there against the black sky to dazzle, entertain, amaze.

More and more, so it seems to me, light is the beautifier of the building.

Imitation is always insult--not flattery.

You have to go wholeheartedly into anything in order to achieve anything worth having.

So here I stand before you preaching organic architecture: declaring organic architecture to be the modern ideal.

If it sells, it's art.