Turning 102 is crap, and there is nothing to commemorate.

I pick up my pen. It flows. A building appears. There it is. There is nothing more to say.

I enter my studio at 9 a.m. I have lunch here, I return right away to my work and I go out to dinner at 8 p.m. My daily tasks vary very much.

I was attracted by the curve — the liberated, sensual curve suggested by the possibilities of new technology yet so often recalled in venerable old baroque churches.

There is no reason to design buildings that are more basic and rectilinear, because with concrete you can cover almost any space.

I think of myself as no more than 60. What I could do at 60, I can still do now.

Architecture was my way of expressing my ideals: to be simple, to create a world equal to everyone, to look at people with optimism, that everyone has a gift. I don’t want anything but general happiness. Why is that bad?