Quotes About Envelopes

...A pure wind envelopes my body. The whole world seen in a single cup.

I am thinking of how it will feel when he leaves, and I am sure the same thought occupies his mind. With a sigh, he reaches into his briefcase and pulls out a stack of envelopes. The sigh is in place of words, a breath of transition. In it, I hear that moment where I go from one life to another. In this new, pared-down version of my life, I am to be cared for by my son instead of vice versa.

How can we have rain without clouds? Our troubles have always brought us blessings, and they always will. They are the dark chariots of bright grace. These clouds will empty themselves before long, and every tender herb will be gladder for the shower. Our God may drench us with grief, but He will refresh us with mercy. Our Lord's love letters often come to us in black-edged envelopes. His wagons rumble, but they are loaded with benefits.

If you believed in the holy circulation of envelopes, everything that went down happened because a man took an envelope and didn't do his job. An envelope is an envelope. Disrespect the order and the whole system breaks down.

We are learning to live with death, with the dead, we are learning with the life of our death in us, to live with cats, with mother, with envelopes, with secrets, to live each instant, we are learning to live, we are learning but we don't know. Envelopes of instants: are they life, are they death? The answer depends on my force of relife. Today I have the Force. Everything is living. Tomorrow we'll see. Today I have the Force of ascent.

When I was an activist in the 1980s, ninety-eight percent of my time was spent stuffing envelopes and writing addresses on them. The remaining two percent was the time we spent figuring out what to put in the envelopes. Today, we get those envelopes and stamps and address books for free. This is so fantastically, hugely different and weird that we haven't even begun to feel the first tendrils of it.

The first RFC went out on April 7, 1969, mailed in old-fashioned envelopes through the postal system. (There was no such thing as email, since they hadn't invented the network yet.)

Me boat's on the slipway, and I don't want Old Bill clambering all over it. I'll be up for the funeral, see you then.' Joe was examining the tightly packed envelopes in the bag. 'Get rid of them quick, Yos,' he warned. With that, he left, that stocky little loyal sailor who had come to the end of his life of crime. At midnight after the bar had closed, the rest of the boys gathered in the office. That red-headed

The high wage begins down in the shop. If it is not created there it cannot get into pay envelopes. There will never be a system invented which will do away with the necessity for work.

Tea chests full of the rotting correspondence of the parents Busner had never know, their serrated postcards, their now blotched but once creamy notepaper folded into thick envelopes that had been extravagantly franked and stamped. All of it he had foreseen himself unpacking, unsheathing and unfolding, so that the pressed flowers bloomed into dust as he read the missives for the first time since their long-gone recipients set the sheets to one side.

I had the most boring office job in the world...I used to clean the windows on envelopes.

Raining. Oh, brother, a scratch on the fender. Damn rabbi on his unicycle. Wait a minute, where are my car keys? Could have sworn I left them in this pocket. No, just some loose change and ticket stubs from the all-black version of Elaine Stritch' s one-woman show. Did I check my desk? Better go back inside. What's in the top drawer here? Hmm. Envelopes, my paper clips, a loaded revolver in case the tenant in 2A begins yodelling again.

his body was cremated and the leaders of the IWW divided the cremated remains into small envelopes that had Hill's picture on one side and his "last will" on the other. The envelopes containing instructions to scatter the remains were sent to people in South America, Europe, Asia, South Africa, Australia, New Zealand, and every state in the United States except Utah because Joe had said that he "didn't want to be found dead" there.

A retired bank vice-president named Harry Breitfeller, who lived in a comfortable duplex in Santa Monica with his wife and other relatives, stepped out on the cement porch a little after nine one morning to pick up the mail. There were half a dozen envelopes, mostly bills, in the mailbox, and a whacking big cardboard carton on the porch under it. Breitfeller picked up the carton, thinking it must be something his wife had ordered, but saw that his own name was on the label.

his letters came in light blue envelopes with stamps the color of whole-wheat bread.

The formulaic repetitiveness of filing and stuffing envelopes appeals to me in some fundamental life-affirming way.

The knives I keep in my apartment are just sharp enough to open envelopes with. Cutting a slice of coarse bread is on the borderline of their capacity. I don't need anything sharper. Otherwise, on bad days, it might easily occur to me that I could always go and split my throat. Against such a contingency it's nice to have the added security of needing to go downstairs and borrow a decent knife from a neighbour.