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.

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.

I try to do everything from thinking about big issues like how a building fits into the larger stream of architectural history to practical issues such as how it feels to navigate your way through its interior.

For most of the nineteen-seventies, the official route map of the New York City subway system was a beautiful thing.

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

I don't usually go in for reviews of buildings that aren't yet built, since you can tell only so much from drawings and plans, and, besides, has there ever been a building that didn't look great as a model?

Architecture begins to matter when it brings delight and sadness and perplexity and awe along with a roof over our heads.