A precious liquid, a poison dearer than that of the Borgias — because it is made from our blood, our health, our sleep, and two-thirds of our love — we must be stingy with it. – Charles Baudelaire, “Advice to Young Writers,” 1867
Let architects sing of aesthetics that bring Rich clients in hordes to their knees Just give me a home, in a great circle dome Where stresses and strains are at ease. – R. Buckminster Fuller
