The job of the architect becomes more difficult in this secular age. Where once he had a god to extol, he now has humans like himself; where once he had "he," he now has "she" and "they."

The physician can bury his mistakes, but the architect can only advise the client to plant vines.

Architecture is inhabited sculpture.

By early 1943, the Pentagon was complete-a building big enough to house forty thousand people and all their accoutrements, the largest building in the world, conceived, funded, designed and constructed in a little more than a year. And on the day it was finished, it was already too small.

We shape our buildings: thereafter they shape us.

The brevity of human life gives a melancholy to the profession of the architect.

Light, God's eldest daughter, is a principal beauty in a building.

I call architecture "petrified music." Really there is something in this; the tone of mind produced by architecture approaches the effect of music.

No building was safe from the furniture, the pictures, the human beings that it would presently contain.

The Golden Arches of McDonald's rise, glorious across the landscape, contempo-monolithic, simple in concept as Stonehenge if we could but see it.