People lived in the same apartments for years. You'd meet a group of kids in kindergarten, and you'd still be with them in high school. No one ever left the neighborhood.
It has to do - I think - with growing up in an apartment, with my aunt and my cousins right next door to me, with the door open, with neighbors walking in and out, with people yelling at each other all the time.
I installed a skylight in my apartment... the people who live above me are furious!
I lived in a studio apartment until my mid-30s. I don't have an extravagant lifestyle.
Percy imagined what that would be like: getting an apartment in this tiny replica of Rome, protected by the legion and Terminus the OCD border god. He imagined holding hands with Annabeth at a cafe. Maybe when they were older, watching their own kid chase seagulls across the forum.
Redd Towers Apartments, whose advertising slogan, 'If you lived here, you'd be home by now,' did little to fill vacancies.
I don't really have a domestic inclination. Even my apartment has a semblance of a storage facility. It's just stacks, there are no bookshelves, just books and piles of stamp collections and weird little sewing and knitting projects.
I have to be alone very often. I'd be quite happy if I spent from Saturday night until Monday morning alone in my apartment. That's how I refuel.
I no longer want to live in an apartment furnished with forklifts and backhoes.
The best thing about being a cartoonist is to walk into a bar or someone's apartment and they don't know you, but they've taped one of your pieces up.
Sure, my childhood was unusual. All these eccentric, wild people frequented our home: rock stars, drag queens, models, bikers, freaks. But I was not this little rich girl. My mom and I lived in an apartment.
It just seemed too weird to me. I don't know, maybe they were smoking a joint in the car downstairs from their parents' apartment. I had to go that far to put together a scenario of how they could have possibly recognized me.
I'm the biggest slob in the world. My apartment is a mess.
I can pay my rent now. I guess I could always do that, but now I can get an apartment with heat.
My son tried to work in films and he ultimately gave it up, he finally couldn't make a living, he couldn't support himself. He worked all the time and he didn't make enough money to have a house, have an apartment.
In fact, I had previously helped train one of the FBI agents who searched my apartment.
Why do people have to love people anyway?
About 25 years ago, I was in an apartment, and next door, they put on the radio, so I struck the wall with my fist, but they did not put the radio down. I took a tool and banged until I made a hole through the wall. It was like a comedy movie.
I'm a teenager, but I'm independent - I have my own apartment, I have my own life. And I think I have learned more than any of those teenagers have in school. I learned to be responsible, leaving my family and coming here alone.
They look outside the windows of their apartment in town and realize they're not living in a terrace anymore. This is a room full of dreamers who like to go to London for a day.
My parents used to throw great New Year's Eve parties. They invited such an eclectic mix of showbiz people. All those cool people were always hanging out at our apartment.
My roommate got a pet elephant. Then it got lost. It's in the apartment somewhere.
The government only makes restrictive rules, they dont show you what to do so you know, OK, heres where we need this many apartments, with open space, playgrounds, kindergartens.
I found myself serving a sentence of public denial from the very second the raid on my apartment happened.
The inner spaces that a good story lets us enter are the old apartments of religion.
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