The American dream has always depended on the dialogue between the present and the past. In our architecture, as in all our other arts-indeed, as in our political and social culture as a whole-ours has been a struggle to formulate and sustain a usable past.

The dialogue between client and architect is about as intimate as any conversation you can have, because when you're talking about building a house, you're talking about dreams.

My cat speaks sign language with her tail.

Communities of tract houses, plopped on a grid, represent a way of throwing historical forms around like bouillabaisse.

That was the shocking part. Here we were in the midst of everything and this potentially giant story was being told and virtually noone was there.

Buildings should not look like Lady Gaga.

To be an architect is to possess an individual voice speaking a generally understood language of form.