Maybe part of my animus against the English is the way they have always treated the Irish and they way they still think about the Irish.

Cities have the capability of providing something for everybody, only because, and only when, they are created by everybody.

Streets and their sidewalks-the main public places of a city-are its most vital organs.

Designing a dream city is easy; rebuilding a living one takes imagination.

There is no logic that can be superimposed on the city; people make it, and it is to them, not buildings, that we must fit our plans.

Intricate minglings of different uses in cities are not a form of chaos. On the contrary, they represent a complex and highly developed form of order.

While you are looking, you might as well also listen, linger and think about what you see.

The ballet of the good city sidewalk never repeats itself from place to place, and in any one place is always replete with new improvisations.

This is something everyone knows: A well-used city street is apt to be a safe street. A deserted city street is apt to be unsafe.

People must take a modicum of public responsibility for each other even if they have no ties to each other.

This is what a city is, bits and pieces that supplement each other and support each other.

To be or not to be that is the question.

We sit in a room for months trying to think of funny things.

When you live in a leading lady's body, which I do, you have to constantly prove that you are funny.

Gold is the gift of vanity and common pride, but flowers are the gift of love and friendship.

I was helped by having a verbatim memory of what happened years ago, even if I can't remember what happened a couple of days ago.

What they teach you in school doesn't prepare you for life. Textbooks don't compare to living in the real world. Rock and roll teaches you how to live.

Love is like a mirror. When you love another you become his mirror and he becomes yours .... And reflecting each other's love you see infinity.

Life is too short to be miserable.

I do oppose My patience to his fury, and am arm'd To suffer, with a quietness of spirit, The very tyranny and rage of his.