Architecture should speak of its time and place, but yearn for timelessness.

For me, every day is a new thing. I approach each project with a new insecurity, almost like the first project I ever did. And I get the sweats. I go in and start working, I'm not sure where I'm going. If I knew where I was going I wouldn't do it.

You've got to bumble forward into the unknown.

Look, architecture has a lot of places to hide behind, a lot of excuses. 'The client made me do this.' 'The city made me do this.' 'Oh, the budget.' I don't believe that anymore.

For me, every day is a new thing.

Liquid architecture. It's like jazz - you improvise, you work together, you play off each other, you make something, they make something. And I think it's a way of - for me, it's a way of trying to understand the city, and what might happen in the city.

And I realized, when I'd come in to the meetings with these corrugated metal and chain link stuff, and people would just look at me like I'd just landed from Mars. But I couldn't do anything else. That was my response to the people and the time.

Some people may say my curved panels look like sails. Well, I am a sailor, so I guess I probably do use that metaphor in my work - though not consciously.

When I was a kid, my father didn't really have much hope for me. He thought I was a dreamer; he didn't think I would amount to anything. My mother also.

An architect is given a program, budget, place, and schedule. Sometimes the end product rises to art - or at least people call it that.

Most of our cities built since the war are bland. They're modernist, they're cold, and now architects want to go back to that.

My buildings are all on budget.

There is a backlash against me and everyone who has done buildings that have movement and feeling.

Well, I've always just - I've never really gone out looking for work. I always waited for it to sort of hit me on the head.

I approach each project with a new insecurity, almost like the first project I ever did, and I get the sweats, I go in and start working, I'm not sure where I'm going.

Drawn by warm nostalgic feelings for the place and by two sweet little words: 'Open Bar.'

Grown men have been seen fleeing after reading the menu posted outside.

Kristin Brown looks as though she could have been mailed first-class to New York for about a dollar and a half.

Pressed caviar has the consistency of chilled tar.

Scrooge pushed past Mary number 1 and Joseph number 2 in the wings without so much as an 'excuse me'. Typical.