I cannot look at modern buildings without thinking of historical ones.

Building your own house is a primal urge, one of those universal genetic drives like the need to provide for your family.

Sustainability is now a big baggy sack in which people throw all kinds of old ideas, hot air and dodgy activities in order to be able to greenwash their products and feel good.

Building your own home is about desire, fantasy. But it's achievable; anyone can do it.

I don't look at what people do with their homes in terms of money, but the social and personal value of what they're trying to do and achieve.

Architecture was pretty much the sexiest thing to be doing from 1700-1800.

It's possible to be satisfied with a day's work or a cake, but a life... what is a life but a history of events badly remembered?

Every breath we take as human beings damages the planet.

Generally speaking, I think that if you do anything with commitment and passion, it will come good.

Living an environmentally responsible lifestyle can seem like a Scrooge-like list of don'ts. Don't take that flight, don't buy that car, don't eat those blueberries flown in from somewhere far-flung.

I'm terribly fastidious. I like symmetry and neatness, but my house is as chaotic as any other family's.

The problem is that rich are getting richer by not giving and poor and getting poorer by not receiving.

There are some we cannot help but take an instant dislike to.

Walk in the rain, smell flowers, stop along the way, build sandcastles, go on field trips, find out how things work, tell stories, say the magic words, trust the universe.

Could one live on the sense of beauty alone, exempt from the necessity of 'creature comforts,' a sea-voyage would be delightful.

I've been running my whole life. Running into bars, running around the world. But when you have a child, you can't run. That was a revelation.

Heaven help me for the way I am, save me from these evil deeds before I get them done.

It's not like being a professional basketball player where you're in a big house. Maybe three, four or five guys make a couple million bucks a year, but that's it. The rest of them have second jobs.

“I often think,” said she, “that there is nothing so bad as parting with one's friends. One seems so forlorn without them.”

What I said, what are you [Rick Rubin] going to do with me that nobody else has been able to do to sell records with me?

I'm beginning to see that just knowing the piece is not enough. Having a clear technique is not enough. Having a broad repertory is not enough. I want desperately to get past all those things.