Real architects have always been and must be inventors, in mechanics, in form, in tone and colour.
We need better architecture and planning: more imaginatively exciting, more involving, more our own.
Australia is, in fact, an old man’s bureaucracy.
Solemn Australians think that an interest in design is a superficial and trivial interest. This is actually an improvement, they used to think it effeminate and vaguely immoral.
Many new churches, I regret to say, can be described from the design point of view only as holy terrors.
When most objects are truly functional, this technological age, which is just beginning, will be truly civilised. When all objects in this country are truly functional, Australia will be as beautiful in its own way as classical Greece.
Adelaide was the first city in Australia, if not in the world, to provide for the health and recreation of all its citizens.
Yet the small house, probably more than anything else that man has done, has made the face of Australia and to an extent the faces of Australians. Australia is the small house. Ownership of one in a fenced allotment is as inevitable and unquestionable a goal of the average Australian as marriage.
The suburb was the major element of Australian society.
The Australian town-dweller spent a century in the acquisition of his toy: an emasculated garden, a five-roomed cottage of his very own, different from its neighbours by a minor contortion of window or porch – its difference significant to no one but himself. He skimped and saved for it, and fought two World Wars with it figuring prominently in the back of his mind. Whenever an Australian boy spoke to an Australian girl of marriage, he meant, and she understood him to mean, a life in a five-roomed home.