Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
I love room service!
I enjoy room service.
I'm not a big room service guy.
Room service? Send up a larger room.
Room service. You like me fluff pillow?
I wasn't born, I was ordered from room service.
I get excited about room-service menus! I really do.
This is an elegant hotel! Room service has an unlisted number.
Room service is great if you want to pay $500 for a club sandwich.
Room service is nice. Ooh-la-la, a hotel. At home, it's laundry and school lunches.
Though I love the luxury of the Waldorf Towers, room service there doesn't do soul food.
I want to go out and do things... not just stick around having room service for two days.
Room service is a hard thing to pay for. That's, like, oatmeal for $12? That makes me mad.
When I'm in the mood for room service, my favorite order is a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich.
I'm staying in a strange hotel. I called room service for a sandwich and they sent up two hookers.
There are three very good reasons to travel: 1. See the world. 2. Meet new people. 3. Room service.
When I was in Turks & Caicos, a bug jumped out of my room service menu. That kind of freaked me out.
When I travel, I like to take advantage of room service. I'm really into eggs Benedict in the morning.
When you order room service as much as I do, and Postmates, you don't really need to have a lot of food.
I used to work at a hotel. I was the order-taker for room service. My mom worked at the hotel as an accountant.
I have always felt cookbooks were fiction and the most beautiful words in the English language were 'room service.
After a day in Cannes, I pass out before I even get to my bed. I'll get to my room, order room service, shower, and sleep.
Nothing gets my journalistic juices flowing more than a seaside chalet, the mention of a private jet, or room service in St. Tropez.
You eat the room service employees every time?” Denise asked, shocked. “Of course. But don’t fret on their behalf. I always tip well.
Being with Kyra is so natural for me; it's the easiest aspect of my life. I know that I don't need a beach or room service to be happy.
I find that often, room service menus are highly condensed. They tend to be a little bit fast food-oriented, even at the finest hotels.
Staying in luxury hotels still gives me a kick, especially Oulton Hall in Yorkshire. I'd stay in a hotel for the breakfast and room service.
In my special place, room service could only consist of my husband making me a breakfast of eggs, avocados, and hummus. And coffee with milk.
I like the desert for short periods of time, from inside a car, with the windows rolled up, and the doors locked. I prefer beach resorts with room service.
He was feeling buoyant, flexible. He wanted to go jogging. He stood. He couldn't go jogging. He called room service and ordered a basket of breads and pastries.
I have that typical girly aspect to me and those domestic ideals. When I cook in my kitchen it's like playing a game because it's not real for me; room service is.
As a model, it's a gypsy kind of life: living in hotels, working all the time, ordering room service instead of cooking for yourself. There's absolutely no nest-building.
I'm always really worried about ruining their lives. Especially with people that aren't famous. It's such a massive change. I'm kind of a paranoid wreck. I've eaten a lot of room service.
Twenty-four-hour room service generally refers to the length of time that it takes for the club sandwich to arrive. This is indeeddisheartening, particularly when you've ordered scrambled eggs.
I think I get my alone time when I have to go fly and do a work trip. After work's done, I go check into my hotel, and I get to have a few hours to myself to order room service and just be quiet and silent.
I need to be very isolated to write, and unfortunately isolation is often quite difficult to find. My ideal writing environment would be a country house hotel in the middle of nowhere, with full room service.
When I'm on the road for fashion shows, I love room service. I think it's one of the greatest things in the world. I usually like to keep it simple with soup, but my big indulgence is French fries or chicken fingers.
There's nothing in the world more silent than the telephone the morning after everybody pans your play. It won't ring from room service; your mother won't be calling you. If the phone has not rung by 8 in the morning, you're dead.
This job is like stealing. I travel first class in a nice plane. I have a driver waiting for me. I go in a room and have room service. I have a meeting. Then I go to the best game of the weekend and talk football - and they pay me.
I always thought when I hit 50 years old that'd be it for the travel. I don't have to tell you - you wait at an airport, your flight's delayed, get on a 14-hour flight, get off, get stuck in traffic, you get to the hotel and the room service is closed.
I still, at hotel rooms, I do this one sort of not-so-cool thing: continually shoving my room service tray in front of someone else's door. Because I don't want the remnants. I don't want to be caught, like, being like the pig that I was at two in the morning.
I was a full-time mom for seven years. You go back on tour, you're back in hotels, you're ordering room service, and you're getting an itinerary slipped under your door every,day. You're kind of thinking, 'Did I go home for seven years, or was that just a dream?'
Oh, we've had our share of hotels bein' smashed and all, but that was a long time ago. You get lousy room service... I mean, there's no use throwin' a TV set out the window for the sake of throwin' a TV set out the window. But if you get a lousy picture then you have an excuse
I don't understand why people expect tips. In hotels you order food in your room, and it's already more expensive from the room service menu, so it's a cheek to expect a tip on top. I do sometimes reward good service, but it should be at my discretion, and I'm not going to be held to ransom.
I was doing shows and flying economy, and nobody ever fed me. Or I'd be staying in hotels so cheap that by the time I'd get in, there wasn't any room service. I didn't eat for a long time. Not on purpose. You'd be on shoots with bad food or get on a plane, and the food would be so disgusting you couldn't eat it.
I lived at the Gramercy Park Hotel for about 10 years. It was terrific. It was a pleasantly run-down hotel of the '70s and '80s with a mix of older, rent-controlled apartment dwellers, Europeans and new wave and punk bands. The room service was great, the hamburger was terrific, and they had a doctor who made house calls.