I get out of the taxi and it's probably the only city which in reality looks better than on the postcards, New York.
The world before us is a postcard, and I imagine the story we are writing on it.
It is not easy writing someone a postcard. The size and shape of the card cut you down to size.
Despite living in an increasingly digital world, there are a few things I still like to keep as physical reminders. So every time I see an exhibition, I make a pit stop at the museum gift shop to buy a postcard of something that inspired me.
Alongside my "no email" policy, I resolve to make better use of the wonderful Royal Mail, and send letters and postcards to people. There is a huge pleasure in writing a letter, putting it in an envelope and sticking the stamp on it. And huge pleasure in receiving real letters, too.
Life’s never a postcard of life, is it? It never feels like how you’d want it to look.
I keep all of my letters, postcards, and thank you notes. I'll keep them forever!
You can only fit so many words in a postcard, only so many in a phone call, only so many into space before you forget that words are sometimes used for things other than filling emptiness.
I love that works of art are printed so that anyone can buy them. The variety of what they put on little postcards astounds me.
The postcard is sacred to me. It makes me sad that no one sends them very much anymore because of email and texting. I still like to buy them, but they've lost their original function and now just seem like reminders or mementos of what they used to be.
...after a certain quantity, photos apparently taken by chance, postcards chosen according to a passing mood, begin to trace an itinerary, to map the imaginary country that stretches out before us.
A postcard. Neat handwriting fills the rectangle. Half my days I cannot bear to touch you. The rest of my time I feel like it doesn’t matter if I will ever see you again. It isn’t the morality, it’s how much you can bear. No date. No name attached.
You ever get a postcard, you get so excited you don't even read it! "Hey I got a - who cares."
Paint with whatever material you please - with pipes, postage stamps, postcards or playing cards, painted paper, or newspapers.
Your past is just that, the past, a place within your psyche with no more reality to it then the picture of a castle on a postcard is made from stone.
Gather up your telegrams Your faded pictures, best laid plans Books and postcards, 45's Every sunset in the sky Carry with you maps and string, flashlights Friends who make you sing And stars to help you find your place Music, hope and amazing grace Maybe what we leave Is nothing but a tangled little mystery Maybe what we take Is nothing that has ever had a name
At the heart of all photography is an urge to express our deepest personal feelings - to reveal our inner, hidden selves, to unlock the artist. Those of us who become photographers are never satisfied with just looking at someone else's expression of something that is dear to us. We must produce our own images, instead of buying postcards and photo books. We seek to make our own statements of individuality.
They're selling postcards of the hanging.
I got a postcard from my gynecologist. It said, Did you know it's time for your annual check-up? No, but now my mailman does.
Don't ever forget the words on a postcard that my father sent me last year: "If you win the rat race, you're still a rat.
Whenever I'm out of town for at least a week, I feel like I should write a postcard or something, but you can be a genius, you try and write a postcard you come across like a moron anyway: 'This city's got big buildings. I like food. Bye.'
Poems aren't postcards to send home.
There just seems to be more acceptance now of other kinds of British films, than the picture-postcard ones.
When they dumped all these people out of the insane asylums they didn't all go sleep in the street. Some of them moved into suburbia, and started writing postcards to the FCC.
There's a conspiracy / to protect the young, so they'll be fearless, / it's why you travel - it's a way of trying / to let go, of lying. You don't sit / in a stiff chair and worry, you keep moving. / Postcards from the Alamo, the Alhambra. / ... / You, fainting at the Buddhist caves. / Climbing with thousands on the Great Wall, / ... / Having the time of your life, blistered and smiling. / The acid of your fear could eat the world.
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