My 20s were totally bonkers. I was living out of a suitcase and burning the candle at both ends. But I tell you – I am totally over it.
Two songs I like are ‘High Flying Adored’ and ‘Another Suitcase Another Hall,’ both from ‘Evita.’
I plan my golf outfits for the tournaments, I recycle some for the practice rounds, but I always have new ideas for my golf attire, and I like to dress nice after the rounds, so I have to bring all my heels. It’s terrible. The worst part about being on tour is living out of a suitcase.
I am Mother Jones. The Government can’t take my life and you can’t take my arm, but you can take my suitcase.
A freshly pressed suit is a miracle when you’re travelling. When your suitcase has turned all your clothes into creased rags, and you’ve crossed so many time zones that you can’t tell a Monday from a Thursday, putting on a freshly pressed suit for breakfast is like spending a week in a spa.
I used to bodyguard for Muhammad Ali, Leon Spinks, Sugar Ray Leonard. I used to bodyguard a lot of diamond merchants; I would travel with a suitcase full of diamonds and take them from point A to point B. My reputation grew because I was a professional. I did my job, and I was courteous – a no-nonsense guy.
I love Tumi because of the lifetime guarantee. And their luggage is just so solid. Looks good. Versatile. My carry-on bag is Tumi. My hanging bag is Tumi. My big suitcase is Tumi. All black. Love it.
When I first had kids, I had a suitcase under my bed that I didn’t even put away, and I was excited about going to all of these new places all of the time.
When I moved to L.A., I had nothing but a computer, a lighting set, and a suitcase.
I’ve lived out of a suitcase for four years.
Paddington Bear was a refugee with a label – ‘Please look after this bear. Thank you’, and he had a little suitcase.
I’ve grown up putting my suitcase down, making new friends, and then having to pick it up again, like ‘Let’s move him to another foster home in six months’ time.’
I was 19 when I got my first passport as an adult. I had moved from California to New York City and was living out of a suitcase, staying with friends. I’d just finished filming my first movie, ‘Ordinary People,’ but I didn’t know whether acting was what I wanted to do with my life.
I feel sorry for kids these days. They get so much homework. Remember the days when we put a belt around our two books and carried them home? Now they’re dragging a suitcase. They have school all day, then homework from six until eleven. There’s no time left to be creative.
Every summer my husband and I pack our suitcases, load our kids into the car, and drive from tense, crowded New York City to my family’s cottage in Maine. It’s on an island, with stretches of sea and sandy beaches, rocky coasts, and pine trees. We barbecue, swim, lie around, and try to do nothing.
Dresses that don’t wrinkle are key. They don’t take up a whole lot of space and you can throw four into a suitcase.
I’m a vagabond. I have a suitcase that is ready to go at a moment’s notice. The thought of being in one place for a long time, or playing one character for a long time, is terrifying for me.
Until I was 42, I could fit everything that I owned into two suitcases.
I’m always just travelling out of a suitcase. You get used to it.
The worst gift that I ever gave a girl was a suitcase for Christmas. As in, ‘I can’t think of anything to give you, but here’s a new suitcase.’ Afterward, I was like, ‘What were you thinking, idiot?’
Every country I would go to, even if it was just on a modeling job, I would go to their markets. If I went to Morocco for ‘Elle’ magazine, I would be in the spice markets during my off time and just come back with a suitcase full of stuff that I really wanted to try.
I used to overpack a lot and sometimes even forgot vital pieces of clothing, such as my swimming shorts and sandals. I’m much better now. I only take what I know I’m going to wear or use and always double-check my suitcase so I don’t have to rush to the nearest clothing store when I unpack at the hotel.
Everything important that I have done can be put into a little suitcase.
My suitcase must absolutely contain my iPod.
I am that dork who packs a bike helmet in her suitcase.
The body is simply the suitcase that carries us around.
I’m a vagabond. I live out of one suitcase. I feel very comfortable in black. I feel very uncomfortable in anything else than black.
The technology is just so far gone. It’s just like back in the day you needed a suitcase just to have a cell phone. The battery was so heavy, it was like carrying a gallon of soda around with you all day.
As I try to get around with a guitar, a banjo and a suitcase of high heels and dresses, I treasure that little ukulele.
I’ve learned that you don’t need a lot in life. If it can’t fit into a suitcase, you don’t really need it.
I had a boom box, but I didn’t go too far with it because I had a really, really big one. It was like the size of a suitcase, and I was just a little kid.
It’s great to just disappear, grab a suitcase, switch the answering machine on and just go somewhere else.
I’m used to traveling. I’m used to being in different areas of the world. Home is where my suitcase lands.
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