Building art is a synthesis of life in materialised form. We should try to bring in under the same hat not a splintered way of thinking, but all in harmony together.

Nothing is as dangerous in architecture as dealing with separated problems. If we split life into separated problems we split the possibilities to make good building art.

Form must have a content, and that content must be linked with nature.

Human life is a combination of tragedy and comedy. The shapes and designs that surround us are the music accompanying this tragedy and this comedy.

The ultimate goal of the architect...is to create a paradise. Every house, every product of architecture... should be a fruit of our endeavour to build an earthly paradise for people.

Beauty is the harmony of purpose and form.

God created paper for the purpose of drawing architecture on it. Everything else is at least for me an abuse of paper.

Modern architecture does not mean the use of immature new materials; the main thing is to refine materials in a more human direction.

We should work for simple, good, undecorated things, but things which are in harmony with the human being and organically suited to the little man in the street.

I tell you, it is easier to build a grand opera or a city center than to build a personal house.

Objects are made to be completed by the human mind.

One thing I've learned: we don't stumble accidentally into an amazing life. It takes decision, a commitment to consistently work on ourselves.

Do you trust me to be strong enough…strong enough to love you in the way you need to be loved?

Apparently, denial isn't just a river in Egypt.

We all think people deserve second chances. None of us are perfect.

Almost no germ is unconditionally dangerous to man; its disease-producing ability depends upon the body's resistance.

Originally, poetry creates the myth, while the prose-writer draws its portrait.

Ennui, the demon, waited at the threshold of his noiseless refuge, and drove away the stirring hopes and enlivening expectations, which form the better part of life.

I believe that illness has led me to a life of gratitude, so I consider Lyme disease at this point in my life to be a blessing in disguise.

To the lover the loved one always appears as solitary.

There is no such way to be even with the devil and his instruments, for all their spite against us, as by doing what good we can wherever we be come.