A Quote by Kevin Parker

I like a messy hotel room. It's a little slice of home. — © Kevin Parker
I like a messy hotel room. It's a little slice of home.
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.
I only ever did one hotel room because at the end of the tour, I had a little less money than the rest of the guys, and the tour manager said, 'You remember that hotel room you destroyed in Iowa? Well, we had to pay for it.' And I was like, 'Ooooh. That's how it works.'
I don't know how many bands I saw who would try to wreck a hotel room, but I never wrecked a hotel room in my life! If I'm gonna sit there and throw a TV out the window... if it's a good TV, maybe I should just take it home.
She left me the way people leave a hotel room. A hotel room is a place to be when you are doing something else. Of itself it is of no consequence to one's major scheme. A hotel room is convenient. But its convenience is limited to the time you need it while you are in that particular town on that particular business; you hope it is comfortable, but prefer, rather, that it be anoymous. It is not, after all, where you live.
You need to have a home to go back to, whether it's a hotel room or a barn. It's only home when he's there.
I bring incense, essential oils, and candles to make my hotel room feel more like home.
I was a boy with one dream and one dream only: I wanted - no, strike that, I was desperate for - a room of my own. You see, in those days I shared a room with my little brother, Jesse, and it wasn't pretty. He was the Oscar to my Felix: messy, careless, and just a little bit sticky - exactly the way a kindergartner is supposed to be.
During Breaking The Waves, I was on my own in a hotel room. I think I would have been impossible to live with. When you go home, you have to pretend to be the person you are at home.
As my good friend Al Capp told me a few years ago, the best thing to do with a confirmed [hotel] reservation slip when you have no room is to spread it out on the sidewalk in front of the hotel and go to sleep on it. You'll either embarrass the hotel into giving you a room or you'll be hauled off to the local jug, where at least you'll have a roof over your head.
I've been known to do lunges down hotel hallways. I also like to use the ice bucket in the hotel room as a medicine ball.
I'm very used to stages and dressing rooms. And dare I say it, much as I like being at home, I love the buzz of a new hotel room.
I used to buy things for every hotel room or every place I lived in to make it feel like home.
We're trapped on this very thin slice of perception ... But even at that slice of reality that we call home, we're not seeing most of what's going on.
I can't write on the road. I have to be home. I have to be around all those rusted tractors and dilapidated fences and things like that, because it just grounds me in a way that I can't find in a hotel room.
In principle if I could not have a home I wouldn't. But not having a home would be too difficult procedurally, going from hotel to hotel, the gap of three hours where you're hungry and tired.
So I'm more at home with my backpack, sleeping in a hotel room or on a bus or on an airplane, than I am necessarily on a bed. It's weird being here. It feels like I'm standing next to my real life.
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