Sentences with phrase «imagine a past where»

Imagine a past where the tragic Titanic never sank, but instead flew across the Atlantic Ocean.

Not exact matches

Imagine if you lived in a country where ISIS views have, in the past, been tolerated, encouraged and enshrined in law.

Arsenal are a Big Big draw for potential managers and I would imagine quite a few will be very keen to restore OUR CLUB to where we should be.Wenger staying well past his due date has made the new managers job so much easier.Whoever takes over will only have to concentrate on bettering a declining league position with little or no immediate chance of winning one of the TWO major honours that have been beyond Wenger for years.

(I hadn't read the book my husband had bought me past the first page where it said to imagine yourself somewhere else or as something else — so this is what I did.)

Liberals imagine a better future where safe, legal, effective abortion / assisted suicide will alleviate suffering and reduce some of the horrors of the past associated with these practices when they were illegal.

Imagine a universe with no past or future, where time is an illusion and everyone is immortal.

It is a place where the past does not exist, where hopelessness is chased away, where the future hasn't been written, where orphans and strays can begin to imagine a new meaning for «family.»

I hope it is sunny where you are, it has been glorious here in Sheffield over the past couple of days which makes a pleasant change, just imagine if it stayed like this for the entire summer....

I imagine she might one day find the box where this confection sits, carefully wrapped in a whisper of sass and daydreams, with a few salacious stories to tell of adventures past.

This two - pronged odyssey is simultaneously set in an imagined sci - fi future and the reimagined Old West past in the form of an epic theme park where lifelike robots indulge every appetite of its paying guests.

Tom can not imagine where The Legend of Zelda is headed without exploring its incredible past, and still wonders what direction Nintendo will take.

Watch the trailer for Rian Johnson's futuristic thriller, which imagines a world where time travel is possible and hitmen in the past are hired to do away with targets from the future

It is an almost painful imagining of what a world without violent colonization could be, where past and future co-exist, one honoring the other, the old ways preserved as new advances emerge, culture intact even as it evolves.

I can not imagine having undertaken where we've gone over the past three years without ACCs continuous reinforcement.

I could be imagining things, here, but the colors seem a little deeper in Goodbye Deponia, and the animations during cutscenes are considerably smoother than they were in the past two games where they could be a bit jerky.

Imagine, if you will, a world where science and technology have become merely a remnant of the past.

Imagine you're standing at the base of an archaeological site and you look up, way above you — you're not just looking up — you're actually looking up at the present day from where you stand in the past.

And imagines a near future in which adults have mysteriously disappeared, and where dogs provide a link with the knowledge of the past, whilst children represent the future.

Produced and filmed during Noel - Tod's year - long residency with Chisenhale Gallery and Victoria Park, the film focuses exclusively on children and animals — two of the main groups who use the park each day — and imagines a near future in which adults have mysteriously disappeared, and where dogs provide a link with the knowledge of the past, whilst children represent the future.

Time collapses as past, present and future are represented in oil paintings that obey a non-linear chronology; they stand simultaneously as a visualising of the past, and as a perception of the present from an imagined future, where the natural and man - made retain a more balanced co-existence.

Where many artists of the past imagined themselves in a heroic role as interpreters of the world, distillers of reality, artists today face the difficult idea that the world is resistant to interpretation or structure and remains chaotic and incomplete.

, you are lying on the floor of your place looking up, a small draft runs through the room, between the door and the window, and all things seem perfectly still, wind only disturbs concrete in imperceptible ways, or it may take millions of years to be noticed and, as the air runs through the space, all your plants move and all is animated and all is alive somehow, and here are the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me, and that wind upon your plants is the common air that bathes the globe, and we have no ambitions of universalism, and I'm glad we don't, but the particles of air bring traces of pollen and are charged with electricity, desert sand, maybe sea water, and these particles were somewhere else before they were dragged here, and their route will not end by the door of this house, and if we tell each other stories, one can imagine that they might have been bathed by this same air, regrouped and recombined, recharged as a vehicle for sound, swirling as it moves, bringing the sound of a drum, like that Kabuki story where a fox recognizes the voice of its parents as a girl plays a drum made out of their skin, or any other event, and yet I always felt your work never tells stories, I tend to think that narrative implies a past tense, even if that past was just five seconds ago, one second ago was already the past, and human memory is irrelevant in geological time, plants and fish know not what tomorrow will bring, neither rocks nor metal do, but we all live here now, and we all need visions and we all need dreams, and as long as your metal sculptures vibrate they are always in the Present, and their past is a material truth alien to narrative, but well, maybe narrative does not imply a past tense at all and they are writing their own story while they gently move and breathe, and maybe nothing was really still before the wind came in, passing through the window as if through an irrational portal to make those plants dance, but everything was already moving and breathing in near complete silence, and if you're focused enough you can feel the pulse of a concrete wall and you can feel the tectonic movements of the earth, and you can hear the magma flowing under our feet and our bones crackling like a wild fire, and you can see the light of fireflies reflected in polished metal, and there is nothing magical about that, it is just the way things are, and sometimes we have to raise our voice because the music is too loud and let your clothes move to a powerful bass, sound waves and bright lights, powerful like the sun, blinding us if we stare for too long, but isn't it the biggest sign of love, like singing to a corn field, and all acts of kindness that are not pitiful nor utilitarian, that are truly horizontal as everything around us is impregnated with the deadliest violence, vertical and systemic, poisonous, and sometimes you just want to feel the sun burning your skin and look for life in all things declared dead, a kind of vitality that operates like corrosion, strong as the wind near the sea, transforming all things,

The filter, instead, might be where we find the power of mutability, imagine paths of change, and wonder at the beauty of complex pasts.

I often think of these conjoined forms as an allusion to nature's defiance of artificially imposed, man - made divisions on the ground; a poetic provocation from the past or a proposition for an imagined future where indeed they may reunite.

In his work, time collapses as past, present and future are represented in oil paintings that obey a non-linear chronology; often they stand simultaneously as a visualising of the past and as a perception of the present from an imagined future, where the natural and man - made retain a more balanced co-existence.

Perhaps the thresholds for a CRF - cloud correlation was higher then than it has been for the past 40 years (one might imagine that in periods where the air is rather clear of man made aerosols, the threshold for CRF effects on cloud formation become higher... and so on).

Imagine taking a stroll through a coastal beach campus where the sun is always shining; you walk past an open amphitheater full of real estate pros listening to a panel of experts discuss the latest industry trends.

I will complete my first year in April and I am also finding more success than I imagined (although nothing to the scale of the Rookie) because of honesty, history with past relationships and community involvement in our little town where I was born and raised.

I imagine this is how many of God's children feel after they are adopted into His Kingdom — just in awe that a Father — Abba — could possibly love them so much and wanting to make sure that He will never leave them or «throw them away» or «put them out in the dark» — our past is often where Satan lurks in the shadows but the more we grow in our walk with our Daddy the more those shadows are brought to light and those fears are dispelled... I am so thankful for your last sentence in your blog — that you have never felt so much responsibility to pour Love and Truth into your son — exactly what's Sonny needs to break through those fears and doubts — glad you shared your heart!