Sentences with phrase «love as a thing of the past»

Not exact matches

Only when people take courage to face fear, heal from past hurts, as as considerate of others as self, accepting differences where they are debatable and are motivated by love then shall we see less of this kind of thing.

So my own personal experience and the research would lead me to believe that no, breastfeeding past infancy isn't messing up our kids and I'm going to go out on a limb here and say it's because all that love, all that connection can't be a bad thing and I'm glad my daughter has a friend so secure and so confident that understands the natural biological function of breasts as feeding tools for babies that they can laugh together at the messages the world sends them about the female form.

Watching loved ones suffer will be a thing of the past as the robots aid speedy recoveries, mortality rates drop, and as the technology is used more frequently, so will the cost, that oft deciding factor.

As an interior designer, I have written a blog that was just about design in the past, but I found that I love so many things that I wanted a place to include all of my passions and that includes everything in the fashion world, home décor, traveling, and trying new recipes in the kitchen.

One of the things that I've loved so much about having this blog as an outlet for me over the past eight years is that I've been able to word - vomit the heck out of whatever I'm going through at a particular time and moment.

One of the things that I have loved most about having this blog over the past six years is I've been able to use it as a way to document the major things going on in my life, I've been able to document my personal style at the time, my likes, my dislikes, my life happenings, and I've even been able to use it as a place of self - reflection.

I got my heart broken from divorce for somthin i did nt do.â $ œThe saddest thing about love is that not only that it can not last forever, but that heartbreak is soon forgotten The past canâ $ ™ t hurt me anymore, not unless you let it.A broken heart is one of those experiences that all of us as humans can sh

It is currently the object of past when men in love with men was taken as an ignominy or a thing to hoot at.

It is now the thing of past when men in love with men was taken as a shame or a thing to laugh at.

Here are some things you may be doing to block love from entering your life: You're not really trying to meet the right man; you complain to your friends and family that there are no good men out there; you think all men are cheaters; you think it's impossible to meet a man because there are more women than men in your city; you keep making excuses as to why you can't meet someone; you're stuck in a past relationship; you're using your looks or work to hold you back; you think men your age just want to date younger women; you think of yourself as a victim; or you're afraid of the love you deserve, being vulnerable, and / or intimacy.

Romeo and Juliet are definitely a thing of the past as a new generation of super romantic love stories are happening in the big and small screen.

Rudd is joined this time around by reliably funny Amy Poehler as maybe the love of his life, if they can get past that candy store thing and a couple dozen other hurdles.

Money raised at events such as this makes a difference in getting us closer to a day when every pet has a loving home and kill - shelters are a thing of the past.»

Ground zero for the Summer of Love, this neighborhood's bohemian past is still evident as you walk around the area, though things have changed quite a bit (for example: American Apparel and Whole Foods).

, 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,

I love galleries, but often it seems as if the system that's in place precludes flukes, unexpected twists of artistic fate, things that might not otherwise make it past the waves of gatekeepers.

They just adopted the love of their lives — all the things she has written in the past two month, I wish for you and Kevin as well.

I would love a gorgeous necklace, as you all know... clothes that I love that fit, are a thing of the past (until December):) Thanks for the opportunity!