Because I can't hit bottom, I can't be saved.
I am just relating to the world we live in. I see some order in it, even though it looks like mush.
Architecture and any art can transform a person, even save someone. It can for children - for anyone. It still does for me.
An architect is given a program, budget, place, and schedule. Sometimes the end product rises to art - or at least people call it that.
Man, there's another freedom out there, and it comes from somewhere else, and that somewhere else is the place I'm interested in.
We should celebrate variety rather than conformity and allow people to express themselves. That we don't is more of our denial.
I love working. I don't know what the word vacation means.
I've found that there are only two kinds that are any good: slang that has established itself in the language, and slang that you make up yourself. Everything else is apt to be passe before it gets into print.
No one can have all he desires.
H. L Mencken's Dictionary of the American Language supplies a long list of slang terms for being drunk, but the Irish are no slouches, either. They're spannered, rat-arsed, cabbaged, and hammered; ruined, legless, scorched, and blottoed; or simply trolleyed or sloshed. In Kerry, you're said to be flamin'; in Waterford, you're in the horrors; and in Cavan, you've gone baloobas, a tough one to wrap your tongue around if you ARE baloobas. In Donegal, you're steamin', while the afflicted in Limerick are out of their tree.
In a happy marriage there is a continuous dense magnetic sense of communication.