You know, maybe I was just born in the wrong time, but I love all things romantic. Puffy understands that. For my last birthday, he covered my hotel room floor with rose petals and had flowers and candles all over the room.
And if California slides into the ocean, as the mystics and statistics say it will, I predict this hotel will be standing until I've paid my bill.
You're at the hotel and after that you go to the venue and sit there and wait.
And it's tough traveling. You know, the hotels and the airports and all that. That part, eating and getting around to the hotel room and then going on.
I'm very strict with my packing and have everything in its right place. I never change a rule. I hardly use anything in the hotel room. I wheel my own wardrobe in and that's it.
If Trump was just a piddly-ass little hotel owner some place, having the kind of character and manners that he has, he would not be worth our notice. But because he's now been based to this huge stage, then his dimensions become immense. He's not a tragic figure because he doesn't have the capacity to be tragic. But the consequences of his life and his self now are immense; they're threatening to the world and to the sanctity of human life.
I can still smell the tear gas in the Hilton Hotel.
Twenty years ago, you'd see guys busting rackets in locker rooms. Today they do it in their hotel rooms.
Like all New York hotel lady cashiers she had red hair and had been disappointed in her first husband.
To put someone in jail for using drugs in the privacy of his hotel room is just barbaric.
I don't watch penalties in my hotel room. I watch naughty videos
Somebody asked my friend Bob Seger, Why do you think the Eagles broke up? He said, Hotel California.
In light of heaven, the worst suffering on earth, a life full of the most atrocious tortures on earth, will be seen to be no more serious than one night in an inconvenient hotel.
To be an outlaw you must first have a base in law to reject and get out of, I never had such a base. I never had a place I could call home that meant any more than a key to a house, apartment or hotel room. ... Am I alien? Alien from what exactly? Perhaps my home is my dream city, more real than my waking life precisely because it has no relation to waking life.
To all my friends in Los Angeles: the Sultan of Brunei, owner of the Beverly Hills Hotel, has signed legislation calling for gay people to be stoned to death.
I saw a very old man, literally eating his own human waste out of hunger. I went to the nearby hotel and asked them what was available. They had idli, which I bought and gave to the old man. Believe me, I had never seen a person eating so fast, ever. As he ate the food, his eyes were filled with tears. Those were the tears of happiness.
A lonely man is a lonesome thing, a stone, a bone, a stick, a receptacle for Gilbey's gin, a stooped figure sitting at the edge of a hotel bed, heaving copious sighs like the autumn wind.
A first-rate marriage is like a first-rate hotel: expensive, but worth it.
On Sofia Coppola's 16th birthday, way back in 1987, I stole a lip gloss from her Sistine Chapel of a bedroom. Years later, I left a Chanel lip gloss in the reception of the Mercer Hotel for her. You know why? I believe that you've got to fix your karma.
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