Chip Kidd

Nothing worth knowing can ever be taught in a classroom.

Design is, literally, purposeful planning. Graphic Design, then, is the form those plans will take.

Hey, have you heard that one about the difference between me, Wit, and my loutish cousin, Hilarity? No? Okay, so I walk into a bar, you see, very unassuming, and order a martini. Then the bartender, Hilarity, hauls off and squirts me in the face with a seltzer bottle, ruining my n ice new camel hair suit, dousing my monocle and my watch fob, soaking my cravat. So, do I let him have what for, and blow my top? I do not. I simply say:Sorry, I believe I said 'very dry'.

He was the most astonishing contradiction of components I__ ever encountered. Shy yet fiercely communicative when putting an idea into your head. Vocally astringent regarding his own abilities but not to the point that he couldn__ produce__e was as prolific an artist (yes, an artist, and I never use the term, especially regarding people I like) I__e ever seen. But I could feel it. Everything he sketched, penciled, inked, made__as a payment, one he could scarcely afford; as if it physically hurt him to put pencil to paper. Yet that only seemed to spur him on, to live far beyond his means. He was unable not to. For Sketch, to draw was to breath, and so the air became lead__ilvery in the right light, dark soot in the wrong; heavy, slick and malleable__nto shapes he brought together in glorious orchestration, with a child__ eye and a rocket scientist__ precision, all fortified by a furious melancholy, a quiet engine of sourceless shame and humility.When it came to another__ work, he longed to praise it but then couldn__ resist critiquing it all within an inch of its life, analyzing deficiencies with uncontrollable abandon and laser accuracy. He was sharp as his Radio 914 pen nibs, and as pointed.And then he__ apologize. Oh, he would apologize: Oh my GOD, forgive me, please don__ hate me, I__ SORRY, don__ listen to me, why am I saying things, what do I know, I don__ know anything, why do you listen to me you should just tell me to shut UP, I__ awful, forgive me, you hate me, don__ you? Tell the truth. Please don__ hate me. Please don__. Please.

(...) photography opened up quite a little Pandora's box, kiddies. (...) Once we no longer had to depend on drawing and painting to record our existence _ once they became an option _ they mutated . . . into a form of expression. And Art for its own sake, God help us, was born.

(...) I'm not much of anything, (...) besides bored and boring, punctuated by fits of scant self-amusement. And you are ...?

Never let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash.