Life is tough; thank God there's design.

Elegance in objects is everybody’s right, and it shouldn’t cost more than ugliness.

Designers may be the true intellectuals of the future.

I want people to understand that design is so much more than cute chairs - that it is first and foremost everything that is around us in our life.

While an artist can choose whether or not to be responsive and responsible towards other human beings, by definition a designer must be.

We live today not in the digital, not in the physical, but in the kind of minestrone that our mind makes of the two.

Be yourself, be in the moment, you’re going to be modern.

Small objects, like the Walkman first and then the iPod, create bubbles of space around us that enable us to have a metaphysical space that is much bigger than our physical space.

Good design is a Renaissance attitude that combines tech, cognitive science, human need and beauty to produce something.

Beauty and elegance are a right, not a surplus... . We must demand, at least, intention.

Designers need to be mavericks, because the best way to design a successful object is to pretend that either it never existed or that people will be able to have a new behavior with it.

You really can change the world if you care enough.

All that time I thought she was my future, I was wrong. She wasn't my future at all. She was the door to my future. But I'm through that door now, and ready to close it behind me.

Whom Jupiter would destroy he first drives mad.

If you do something extraordinary for your customer you will never be forgotten. Customer service heroes get remembered, but legends never die.

Good marketers see consumers as complete human beings with all the dimensions real people have.

The great proof of madness is the disproportion of one's designs to one's means.

Parent hard, play hard. That's my philosophy.

I'm sorry," he breathed. "You're just extremely irresistible." "Strange, men have been resisting me for years.

I can't wait for the oil wells to run dry, for the last gob of black, sticky muck to come oozing out of some remote well. Then the glory of sail will return.

Man exists only insofar as he is separated from his surroundings. The cranium is a space-traveler's helmet. Stay inside or you perish.