I had a lot of survival jobs. One was for the Witty Ditty singing-telegram company. I was in the red-and-white stripes with the straw boater hat and kazoo. Balloons. Even when you’re sleeping on a friend’s couch, you have to pay some kind of rent.
I want ‘Rent’ to last forever.
My contribution to Rent the Runway as the CEO is higher than the contribution of someone on my warehouse team, but my pregnancy is not any more important than the pregnancy of any single person who works at my company.
We’re playing small clubs and doing it all in a van. I have management, and they’ve done a good job of getting our tour plan together, but we’re still having to go and rent the vehicles and all the little things you need to do. You really have to watch your budget.
We started Airbnb because, like many across the U.S. and in New York, we were struggling to pay our rent and decided to open up our living room to fellow artists coming to town for a design conference. Sharing our apartment allowed us to stay in our home and start our company.
Nobody leaves a hotel without getting a full measure of three months of rental assistance. So no one has been evicted – no one who’s eligible has been evicted from a hotel without getting a significant amount of money to find – to pay for their rent.
I’m proud I’ve been able to pay my rent doing what I love because I hate real jobs.
I grew up with my parents screaming and yelling at each other for the rent in Bronx, New York City at the time. It was $36. So my mind hadn’t stretched out to that place where I could spend a whole month’s rent on a 45-minute plane flight to Fargo, N.D.
I’ve always loved going to see Broadway shows. I’ve seen ’em all: Rent, Chorus Line, Cats, West Side Story, Guys & Dolls, Wicked, you name it!
I was on the dole once. I loved it. It was only for a couple of years, when I was 20 or 21 and playing in a band. Back then, this was something young folk did – you got your rent paid, a little bit of money to live on, and you loafed around, wrote songs, rehearsed and dreamed of playing Wembley Stadium.
All I ever wanted to do was be able to pay my rent.
My bees cover one thousand square miles of land that I do not own in their foraging flights, flying from flower to flower for which I pay no rent, stealing nectar but pollinating plants in return.
I loved ‘SNL’ growing up, and I would trick my babysitter into letting me stay up to watch it. My family would rent Marx brothers’ movies and Monty Python episodes, and we watched ‘In Living Color’, ‘The State’, and ‘Strangers with Candy’.
The working class who toil everyday to pay their rent and put food on their families’ tables are tired of being lectured by the fat cats in Washington and Brussels who preach what we need and when we need it.
I keep saying, the older I get, the younger my audience gets. Because ‘Wicked’ and ‘Rent’ and ‘Glee,’ each one was a young audience, so it’s a great thing to have, so then you know that as they get older and have kids, they’ll maybe still buy tickets to my shows when I’m 80 and in Vegas!
At Rent the Runway, we rent designer clothes. We have a belief set that half of the closet over time is going to move into the cloud, and a portion of what we wear every single day will be comprised of things that we don’t own forever.
My husband and I love the saying, success is not owned. It’s rented, and rent is due every single day, and I really and truly believe that.
I’m really sensible with my money. So I would like to own my own house rather than rent.
I can only imagine what the show would have meant to me as a 16- or 17-year-old. I know what ‘Rent’ meant to me in my life, how that show changed the course of my life, and we can only hope that ‘Hamilton’ will have the same effect on a few kids.
Doing films in Latin America is like an act of faith. I mean, you really have to believe in what you’re doing because if not, you feel like it’s a waste of time because you might as well be doing something that at least pays you the rent.
My plan was to model and pay the rent and then intern with designers and work on the other side of the industry however I could, but then it just got to be too much, especially with casting, fashion week, and also working for a fashion designer.
The romantic idea of the penniless writer is false. It’s terrible. I hated being in debt. I hated the anxiety of not knowing whether we could pay our rent that month. Thankfully, I had a wife who was very supportive and had faith and shared my madness.
Coming up with a ballpark figure on how much you need to pay your expenses, such as your mortgage or rent, insurance, and utilities, is the first place to start when developing your ultimate goal of becoming a multimillionaire.
Whenever I’m near a body of water, I love to rent a kayak. It’s easy to use, and you not only get a cardio workout but also do a vigorous upper-body workout, pushing and pulling your paddle through the water.
My father, naturally, spoiled me when I was allowed to see him – flying to New York from Washington, alone, in those terrifying planes. He’d take me to Danny Kaye movies and rent a dog for me to walk in the park on Sunday – a different dog every Sunday – and then to have butterscotch sundaes with almonds at Schrafft’s.
I was in college starting in ’95, and ‘Rent’ was the only show I could see – because if you waited in line and camped out, you could try to get the lottery tickets.
I was making $150 a week in workshop. It was a rough year. I had trouble paying the rent. But I had evenings free to spend with my wife, Olive, and our baby daughter. In terms of family-building, it was one of the most blessed years of my life.
Johnny Knoxville went from struggling to pay his rent to being on the cover of ‘Rolling Stone’ in the course of, like, a month.
I went to grad school in San Francisco, and then left for New York City with my eye on Broadway. I had saved $5000, which seemed like a lot of money in my mind… until I realized it was going to take $2500 to get to New York and then the first and last month’s rent.
I’ve had to do all kinds of jobs to pay the rent. I’ve even worked in a Cornish tin mine.
In my sophomore year of high school, I watched my friend Loretta leave in a U-Haul headed for Oakland. She and her mom had been tenants in a nearby apartment, forced out by rent they couldn’t afford anymore.
I came over here with $100; it was 1983 and I just ended up staying. New York at that time was very inexpensive and it was very easy to get a job. We lived on Staten Island and you could get cheap rent. It was a good time to be in New York.
When I pull into a city and I rent a car and it’s Nashville, or it’s London, or I’m driving in the taxi to the hotel, and on comes one of my songs, it’s like, ‘Oh my God, they’re still playing these songs on the radio.’ And you still feel tearful and very grateful that somebody still likes these songs that you made up.
We were so poor that my mother would often leave me in a foster home until she could raise enough money to rent rooms for us.
I was working maybe four different jobs just to make ends meet. I was really broke. I could barely pay rent. I didn’t have a car. I was riding my bike from one job to another and then to audition in between.
We bought an apartment building and were going to live off the rent money. We rented to people who were on welfare and a lot of times they couldn’t pay the rent. We wouldn’t throw them out so we lost the building.
I sing and play guitar, but songwriting is how I pay my rent. And so I didn’t really need a lot of publicity to get people to record the songs.
I guess if you’re lucky enough not to have to pay your rent, then you or I take much more seriously the kind of work that I do, what it takes for me to leave two teenagers of my own and six stepchildren and a husband and four grandchildren.
It’s hard to absorb and to allow all that attention and accolades for ‘Rent’ because the rest of the country doesn’t know who we are. Once I walk out of the door of ‘Rent,’ and I’m on the subway, it doesn’t matter. It’s an exaggerated sense of fame.
I didn’t publish my book until I was 37. So the ability to pay my bills, pay my rent, make a life for myself, and become a working writer was a puzzle that took me a while to solve.
If you’ve made enough money where you’re not worried about the rent or survival, you start asking yourself why you’re on this planet. Your point is to do the most good you can before you die – well, I could do more good if I didn’t die.
‘Trapped In The Closet’ lives in a place on the earth on its own. It pays its own rent, it’s its own landlord, it owns the building, it’s everything. And it’s so separate from what R. Kelly does; that’s the great thing about it.
‘Rent’ was one of the main defining moments, and it was like the precipice of my transition.
I’m not against a new band doing commercials to pay the rent.
I worked at The Old Globe Theater under the great baton of Craig Noel. One of the great theater heroes that we have. He was so great and so inspirational. I think I did ‘Antony and Cleopatra’ and ‘The Taming of the Shrew’. I lived in Ocean Beach, and my rent was $140 a month.
In London the average person is paying 50 per cent of their income on rent. Just think how much better off people would feel if that number was a lot lower.
When I was writing ‘Kitchen Confidential,’ I was in my 40s, I had never paid rent on time, I was 10 years behind on my taxes, I had never owned my own furniture or a car.
