Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
I don't film messages. I let the post office take care of those.
My favourite books are Charles Bukowski's 'Post Office' and 'Women.'
Go work at the post office or Starbucks if you want balance in your life.
In an urban area, you're not going to be an hour away from another post office.
Mail your packages early so the post office can lose them in time for Christmas.
If I was just a creator, I would still be back in the Lincoln annex in the Post Office.
The post office actually achieves its mission. I wish we could say the same of the CIA.
You know you're a fool when what you're doing makes even the post office seem efficient.
Know the official post office abbreviations for all 50 states without having to consult a list.
Now I have to have the biggest P.O. box in the entire post office to get all the manuscripts coming in.
In 1991, few North Koreans had ever used a telephone. You had to go to a post office to make a phone call.
I still have my unemployment books and I remember when I worked for the sanitation department and the post office.
When people go to the post office or any federal building, they expect to see pictures of their government leaders displayed.
Oh, I was some efficiency expert. On my first day, I couldn't find my own office in Hartford and wound up in the Post Office.
I don't buy a lot when I travel, but when I do, I like to send gifts from wherever I am. It's fun to find the local post office.
From the outside, the CIA seems pretty exotic, but from the inside, it's a big, bureaucratic place. Think 'post office with spies.'
The way I understand it, the Russians are sort of a combination of evil and incompetence... sort of like the Post Office with tanks.
Well, the post office is probably not the place you want to go if you want to be infused with patriotism and a renewed sense of vigor.
I grew up in a house with no running water, 16 miles from the closest place that had a post office. I had a very parochial view of the world.
I've worked in a factory. I was a garbage man. I worked in a post office. It's not that long ago. I like to think that I'm just a regular guy.
Abstract anger is great for rhetorical carrying on. You can go on endlessly about the post office, but it doesn't mean you're mad at your mailman.
I've never seen a weirder group of people than at the post office. It looks like people are crawling out from under rocks to go to the post office.
I am always very grateful that I do not have to rely for my meal on a nationalised dinner service working as well as the Post Office on strike day.
One of the things the government can't do is run anything. The only things our government runs are the post office and the railroads, and both of them are bankrupt.
I mean you might say he had a travelling post office, but also Barney was very, very active. He was a legal officer for the NAACP and they had a lot of problems after Pease.
My - I grew up in - I grew up in public housing. My dad, for most of my life, worked for the post office, which was a terrific job to get because you couldn't lose your job.
They were both academics, but my dad had to get a job on the railway, and my mum had to get a job in the Post Office. It was pretty hard in terms of the racism they had to endure.
At a time when the Post Office is losing substantial revenue from the instantaneous flow of information by email and on the Internet, slowing mail service is a recipe for disaster.
My acting ability would have sent me back to the post office. It was my singing that got me jobs. Ironically, now, people think of me as an actor and don't know me much as a singer.
The right way to reign in healthcare costs is not by applying more government and more controls and making it more like the post office, it's by making it more like a consumer-driven market.
The government can't even do a good job of something as simple as running the Post Office. How can it be expected to do a good job with something really important, like educating our children?
In L.A., I see people who are always in their cars, always driving. I encourage them to walk more - walk to the post office, walk to lunch. Even if it is a 10-minute walk, it's so good for you.
Married and divorced, three beautiful daughters, two in college. The other one is 16, lives with her mom. I'm 46, I've worked for the Post Office for 18 years, seven facilities in three states.
To come to England in the 1970s was to return to this strange other-world of half-known history. I found the imperial architecture curiously familiar: the post office, the town hall, the botanic gardens.
I think on my passport form I described myself as 'entertainer,' filling it in, in a Post Office or something. I felt like I should be doing jazz hands when I wrote that, but I don't do anything else really.
Maggie went out of doors to wash the windows and father came out into the kitchen and said he did not know whether he would go down to the post office or not. And then I sprinkled some handkerchiefs to iron.
Patrick Pearse - who set the events of 1916 in motion when he read the Proclamation of the Irish Republic from the steps of the General Post Office in Dublin - is not exactly an unfamiliar name to the Miramichi Irish.
There's ups and downs of any job. If you worked at the post office, there's ups and downs. You have your good days, and you have your bad days. If you're a housewife, you have your good days, and you have your bad days.
The idea of education has been so tied to schools, universities, and professors that many assume there is no other way, but education is available to anyone within reach of a library, a post office, or even a newsstand.
I've learnt that the muse is like an angry girlfriend. If she comes knocking you better be home because if you're not, she doesn't leave a note saying pick up after 3 P. M. from the post office. The gift she had is gone forever.
There are major efforts being made to dismantle Social Security, the public schools, the post office - anything that benefits the population has to be dismantled. Efforts against the U.S. Postal Service are particularly surreal.
At 20 and 30, we are like travelers in a foreign country, reading the guide book to learn how to behave, to learn when the post office is open. Trivia looms important; critical issues fade into a pastel background, unrecognized.
In my fairly disorganized life, yellow stickies are too easily lost, and as for software, I try to avoid using my computer as much more than a typewriter and a post office. I rely on my lifelong habit of daydreaming to spin my stories.
Handwriting challenges aside, I love paper cards. I love the endless stewing involved in picking them out at the store. I love buying holiday stamps at the post office, and I love that 'whoosh' sound the cards make when I drop them into the mail slot.
I need to feel as if everything is clean and in its proper place before I can even attempt to write one word. At least, that's what I tell myself. I make the bed, I put away the dishes, maybe I dust, maybe I do the laundry, maybe I go to the post office.
My mother, who graduated from high school at sixteen, had no hope of affording college, so she went to work in the local post office for a dollar a day. She was doing better than her father, who earned ten cents an hour working at a nearby grain elevator.
I was the youngest of four kids, and Dad, who had a garden centre before he retired, came from a large Lancashire family. Every one of my uncles had their own business, including a post office, two fish and chip shops and a painting and decorating business.
I've successfully convinced others to let me redevelop the historic Old Post Office Pavilion on Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, D.C. I also led the acquisition of the iconic 800-acre Doral Resort & Spa from my hospital bed after giving birth to my daughter, Arabella.
My father worked in a post office and never made probably more than $8,000 a year as an employee of the post office, so when people can rise up from very modest circumstances and do well economically, I think that's a good thing about America, and we should encourage that kind of activity.
In the name of 'mutual assistance,' the Soviet Union would occupy Latvia until 1991, and it continues to occupy Latvia: in the obedient, epic lines at the post office, in the fug of coal smoke outside cities, in the notorious apartment buildings made of bricks of radioactive compressed ash.