“A breeze blows up, touching my cheek like a little child's kiss. It flutters a piece of paper. "Trash, out there? Must belong to one of us." We move closer, and when I reached for it, I find...... a perfect paper airplane.”

“You sometimes see in a wind a piece of paper blowing about anyhow. Suppose the piece of paper could make the decision: ‘Now I want to go this way.’ I say: ‘Queer, this paper always decides where it is to go, and all the time it is the wind that blows it. I know it is the wind that blows it.’ That same force which moves it also in a different way moves its decisions.”

“....a perfect paper airplane.”

“He wrote on a piece of paper with his pencil.Psychosis: out of touch with reality.Since then, I have been trying to find out what reality is, so that I can touch it.”

“I crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it in the garbage. Then I quickly snatched it out, because hell, I’d just tossed out a Frank Gehry knockoff. What you call trash, I call architecture.”

“Before, when I looked at a piece of blank paper my mind was filled with ideas. Now all I see is a blank piece of paper”