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You may not know it but I'm no good at coping with all the attention in the luxury hotels I sometimes find myself in.

When you come to a hotel room, you want it to be grand, functional and beautiful. But you don't want things that are not useful. Sometimes you go to hotels and there are all these frames and pictures of people you don't know, and you end up hiding everything in the drawer, and then housekeeping come and put it out again.

Hotel rooms inhabit a separate moral universe.

The strange thing about hotel rooms is that they look familiar and seem familiar and have many of the accoutrements that seem domestic and familiar, but they are really weird, alien and anonymous places.

I always have more fun when I stay in hostels - you just meet so many more people. A hotel makes sense when you're doing work things, but travelling, you don't really get a feel for a place if you're in a hotel. I find it seems to make it all feel like everywhere else.

The great advantage of a hotel is that it is a refuge from home life.

In all secrets there is a kind of guilt, however beautiful or joyful they may be, or for what good end they may be set to serve. Secrecy means evasion, and evasion means a problem to the moral mind.

I just want to stay in my hotel room, read my book. I enjoy that private time.

I've stayed in hotels where you were scared to even put your feet on the floor, or had to sleep in a chair.