At An Inn Key Quotes

There were candles glittering light and fires burning in hearths, but not a single person appeared. Fairytale images covered all the closed doors on the second floor: a rabbit in a crown, a knight holding a star-shaped key, a pastry goblin tossing sweets.

Quinn had never stayed at a hotel that used real keys. Most had plastic keycards--like credit cards that you slide through a sensor--though her aunt Deirdre had told her about a tiny hotel in Paris she'd once stayed at that still had brass keys attached to enormous key chains shaped like the Eiffel Tower.

decided to move to London while the house was being emptied. At first I stayed in a hotel – the Inn On The Park, the location for the famous story about me ringing the Rocket office and demanding they do something about the wind outside that was keeping me awake. This is obviously the ideal moment to state once and for all that this story is a complete urban myth, that I was never crazy enough to ask my record company to do something about the weather; that I was simply disturbed by the wind and wanted to change rooms to somewhere quieter. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you that, because the story is completely true. I absolutely was crazy and deluded enough to ring the international manager of Rocket, Robert Key, and ask him to do something about the wind outside my hotel room. I certainly didn’t want to change rooms. It was 11 a.m., I’d been up all night and there were drugs everywhere: the last thing I needed was the hotel staff bustling in to help me move to a different floor. I angrily outlined the situation to Robert. To his lasting credit, he gave my request very short shrift. On the other end of the phone, I heard the muffled sound of Robert, with his hand over the receiver, telling the rest of the office, ‘Oh God, she’s finally lost it.’ Then he spoke to me again. ‘Elton, are you fucking insane? Now get off the phone and go back to bed.

Decide to live, Hannah. Reach out and grab every second you can. And I want you to do that with me.

Men! What do any of you ever do without us?” “Live in hovels?

What is it with you men?” she asked. “You’ve been begging me to make a decision and now that I have, you don’t seem to want to accept it.

Kelsey said, avoiding Hannah’s gaze. “I know it’s early, but I’m beat. I’d like to sleep for a week.” Hannah regarded her with disappointment. “I thought we could talk,” she said, though it sounded halfhearted. “In the morning, Mom, please,” Kelsey said. “I’m just not up to it tonight.” “Okay, sure.” Hannah was a little too quick to cave in, proving just how reluctant she was to have this conversation. “Get some rest, sweetie. I love you.” Kelsey bent down and kissed Hannah’s cheek. “Love you, too. Good night, Luke. I swear I’ll be better company tomorrow.” “Your company is just fine,” he said. She grinned. “You actually said that with a straight face. I think I like you.” Then she was gone and Luke was left alone with Hannah, who looked as if she were near tears. “You’re not going to cry, are you?” he asked worriedly. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if she did. He could handle combat better than he could deal with a woman’s tears.

Richard found a job at the Holiday Inn, keeping the place clean, carrying luggage, and doing light maintenance work. The money wasn’t bad and there were lots of women for him to look at. He had become acutely aware of women and sex; he would masturbate frequently as he imagined different scenarios—most involving bondage—with the attractive women he saw around the hotel. His first problems at the Holiday Inn occurred when he was in the hotel elevator with two girls in their teens. He smiled at one of them and told her he thought she was pretty. She said thank you and promptly told her parents Richard had made a pass. Her parents complained to the assistant manager, who told the manager, who promptly summoned Richard to the office. Richard was told he was not to flirt with the guests’ daughters and was warned that if another such incident happened he’d be fired. He promised it wouldn’t. The manager made him apologize to the girls’ parents and the incident was forgotten. After being employed at the Holiday Inn for three months, Richard was given a master key to the hotel’s rooms. He says he got it from his friend, who had worked at the hotel but had been fired for being late and not showing up. By now Richard was 5′10″ with taut, sinewy muscles. He was very well coordinated, the fastest runner in his class. He was still enrolled in Jefferson High, but for the most part he didn’t attend classes. From the very first, Richard had gone back to the hotel at night to look in the windows. The hotel had curtains of stiff fabric, and there was frequently an inch or two where someone could look in. The unsuspecting guests had no idea he was there, spying on them, fantasizing about them. He began testing himself, becoming bolder and entering the rooms with his pass key while the guests were sleeping. That’s when the most valuables were there, he realized.

The original emotional needs of life were fulfilled in the holding environments of the womb, our nursing mother’s arms, the warmth of our home, and parental protection, which are the requisite loci of serene development. In such a safe and embracing environment, children feel they are living in a folder of security that is also roomy enough for them to express feelings freely. They feel their parents can handle their feelings and mirror them back with acceptant love—in short, that there is room for their true self at the inn. If

They were hard workers who relied on only themselves to make it through life.

What is called fantasy is nothing but a key to the world you now inn

The fact he didn’t interrupt me in my retelling was key. I can’t stand it when men don’t let me finish a sentence.

bathing suit and a pair of pants in the cruise-wear section of one of the department stores downtown. But most of her wardrobe seemed unsuitable for tropical Florida. Maybe, like her sisters, she wouldn’t worry about it, but would simply buy all new clothes in Florida. Ordinarily, she’d be excited by such an idea, but her stomach was still in knots from her confrontation with Tony. She heard a commotion downstairs, and thinking it was Tony, hurried to greet him. At the bottom of the stairs, her mother-in-law smiled up at her. “Hi. I heard a lot of noise coming from your side and wondered if everything was

Sadie hopped in the car, twisting the key in the ignition and checking her makeup in the visor's mirror at the same time. Not enough eye shadow, she mused. Or maybe just a brighter shade... She'd pick up a festive color when she had a chance. “What do you think, Coco?” Sadie reached into the tote bag and pulled out the squirming ball of fluff, holding Coco up against her face so they could look in the mirror together. “C’mon, now, one yip for an exotic color around the eyes, two yips for brighter lipstick.” Instead of yipping an answer, the Yorkie gave Sadie’s cheek a canine kiss. Sadie reciprocated with a pat on the head. “I know, Coco, you love me just as I am. I feel the same way. Besides, I don’t think you’d care for lipstick unless it tasted like peanut butter.” Sadie adjusted the velvet pillow in the tote bag, placed the dog back inside and adjusted the seatbelt harness that held the bag in place. “Let’s go check out this inn of Tina’s. What do you say to that?” She smiled at the immediate yip of approval. It was rare she didn’t gain Coco’s enthusiasm when the word “go” turned up anywhere in a sentence.

In the hall of an old inn by the ocean is a sign that reads “Home is Where Our Story Begins.” For a third culture kid who questions the definition of home, this is both reassuring and sad. If home is where our story begins, what happens when we cannot go back? The word ‘story’ is the key. Third culture kids have stories. Their stories are detailed and vibrant. Stories of travel between worlds, of cross cultural relationships and connections, of grief and of loss, of goodbyes and hellos and more goodbyes. In Exodus God repeatedly tells the people of Israel to remember their story, to remember their beginning, to remember who they are. Later, exiled in Babylon, unable to return home, they were to remember their stories - stories of wonder and deliverance, of the power of God and His provision. They were to remember their beginnings.

And please check out my other books and series: Hartwell Women Series The Beach House Hotel Series Fat Fridays Group Salty Key Inn Series Chandler Hill Inn Series Seashell Cottage Books The Desert Sage Inn Series Soul Sisters at Cedar Mountain Lodge Series The Sanderling Cove Inn Series The Lilac Lake Inn Series