A great deal of energy is wasted in hating people, and I can honestly say I've no wish to expend such a precious resource on being outraged about anyone.

I don't look at what people do with their homes in terms of money, but the social and personal value of what they're trying to do and achieve.

Building your own house is a primal urge, one of those universal genetic drives like the need to provide for your family.

The greatest architectural illusion is not Baroque fancy or Victorian flamboyant, but minimalism.

I'm terribly fastidious. I like symmetry and neatness, but my house is as chaotic as any other family's.

Life involves other people and it is a compromise.

It's possible to be satisfied with a day's work or a cake, but a life... what is a life but a history of events badly remembered?