He studied Roark and the house with the same meticulous scrutiny; he felt as if he could not quite tell them apart.

My dear fellow, who will let you?” “That's not the point. The point is, who will stop me?

No two sites on earth are alike. No two buildings have the same purpose. The purpose, the site, the material determine the shape. Nothing can be reasonable or beautiful unless it’s made by one central idea, and the idea sets every detail. A building is alive, like a man.

Never ask people about your work.

You're too good for what you want to do with yourself.

Were he to be told that this was the best or the ugliest house in the world, he would agree with either.

And it made them sit silently, facing each other, in astonishment, in resignation.

She knew suddenly that he was not telling...