Here is a little building that was constructed by vernacular carpenters in remote rural Alabama in 1857, miles from the railroad and almost inaccessible even today (little unpaved county road).
Classic Greek Revival as interpreted in the materials of the time and place. The proportions are right, it's pleasing and beautiful and inside is just as beautiful and peaceful, with the light coming in the long windows.
(In case you noticed it's so short and were wondering why, it was almost destroyed by a tornado and the family repaired the surviving front 1/3 of the structure. But the facade is exactly as it always was.)
One striking thing is that a modern artist or architect tries above all to express himself; the biggest fear is to look like everyone else. This self-promotion is in itself irritating.
Why is that college building so menacing? Why, because if the windows had normal proportions it would look just like any other building anywhere. So he designed these ambrasures instead.
Why is this church building so comforting? For the reverse reason: the humility of its creator shines through. You want to be there, because the architect designed it with you in mind, and not himself.