New York remains what it has always been : a city of ebb and flow, a city of constant shifts of population and economics, a city of virtually no rest. It is harsh, dirty, and dangerous, it is whimsical and fanciful, it is beautiful and soaring - it is not one or another of these things but all of them, all at once, and to fail to accept this paradox is to deny the reality of city existence.

The taste of people with large bank accounts tends not to be on the cutting edge.

The bias among architecture critics isn't against skyscrapers per se, but against the way in which their design is so heavily dictated by economic considerations - the way in which skyscrapers are real estate before they are architecture.

Infrastructure creates the form of a city and enables life to go on in a city, in a certain way.

New York grew up before the automobile. And even though it's full of cars, its shape and form didn't get created around the automobile.

A noble space, unlike any other of our time, for it is both strong and delicate. It seems to call at once for a Boeing 747 and for a string quartet.

I think of what the experience is of going into the building, of spending time in it, and try to get a sense of what the building would be like to work in as well.