Drinking beer is easy. Trashing your hotel room is easy. But being a Christian, that's a tough call. That's rebellion.
I stayed in a really old hotel last night. They sent me a wake-up letter.
I'm so fast that last night I turned off the light switch in my hotel room and was in bed before the room was dark.
Of course great hotels have always been social ideas, flawless mirrors to the particular societies they service.
The great advantage of a hotel is that it is a refuge from home life.
My daughter was asked by a little old lady in a London hotel restaurant what her daddy did. She answered, “He’s a pirate” - I was very proud of that answer.
Do Not Disturb signs should be written in the language of the hotel maids.
To put it rather bluntly, I am not the type who wants to go back to the land; I am the type who wants to go back to the hotel.
People equate sexy with promiscuous. They think that because I'm shaped this way, I must be scandalous - like running around and bringing men into my hotel room. But it's just the opposite.
The hotel was once where things coalesced, where you could meet both townspeople and travelers. Not so in a motel. No matter how you build it, the motel remains the haunt of the quick and dirty, where the only locals are Chamber of Commerce boys every fourth Thursday. Who ever heard the returning traveler exclaim over one of the great motels of the world he stayed in? Motels can be big, but never grand.
People in hotels strike no roots. The French phrase for chronic hotel guests even says so; they are called dwellers sur la branche.
At my hotel room, my friend came over and asked to use the phone. I said Certainly. He said Do I need to dial 9 I say Yeah. Especially if it's in the number. You can try four and five back to back real quick.
There was a girl knocking on my hotel room door all night! Finally, I let her out.
I've always thought a hotel ought to offer optional small animals. I mean a cat to sleep on your bed at night, or a dog of some kind to act pleased when you come in. You ever notice how a hotel room feels so lifeless?
The gray-green stretch of sandy grass,Indefinitely desolate;A sea of lead, a sky of slate;Already autumn in the air, alas!One stark monotony of stone,The long hotel, acutely white,Against the after-sunset lightWithers gray-green, and takes the grass's tone.
Money doesn't mean anything to me. I've made a lot of money, but I want to enjoy life and not stress myself building my bank account. I give lots away and live simply, mostly out of a suitcase in hotels. We all know that good health is much more important.
In a lot of ways, I envy someone like Omar Sharif who lived in a hotel for decades.
Films and hotels have many aspects that are the same. For example, there is always a big vision, an idea.
I didn't go around the world, I went around the world on a private jet. I didn't have a hotel room, we had an entire floor. We were spoiled.
I've stayed in so many hotel rooms that I'm shocked if, when I stay in a hotel room, the hotel phone isn't on the desk. Then I'm like, "This isn't a real hotel room." If there's not outlets next to the desk, or if they have an iPhone adapter for an iPhone 4, that's when I'm sitting there annoyed. I understand that it's ridiculous, but that's just me spending way too much time in hotels.
Hotels are the only proper places for lecturers. When I am ill-natured I so enjoy the freedom of a hotel where I can ring up a domestic and give him a quarter and then break furniture over him.
The idea to make hotel reviews the form of the novel came first. So I just started writing hotel reviews and tried to come up with a consistent voice.
I like to stay in a hotel where it's a dome of silence. I can sit in my room and do nothing.
I read about this hotel that was great, down in the south of the island, not in a touristy area. I had no particular desire ever to go to Jamaica, but I thought, what the hell? Sounds nice. Let's go!
The internet in hotels should be free - and I really resent it when they charge you five dollars for a bottle of water beside your bed.
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