Right after 9/11 it looked as if the idea of a huge skyscraper might be considered obsolete. It came back, but I think that's more closely connected to the rise of Asian and Middle Eastern cities in the world economy (Dubai, Shanghai, Taipei, etc.) than anything else.

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.

We identify New York with the great bridges and tunnels and roadways and subway system and so forth.

On New York subways in the 1980s: Riding on the IRT is usually a matter of serving time in one of the city's most squalid environments-noisy, smelly, crowded and overrun with a ceaseless supply of graffiti.

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

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.