Sentences with phrase «sometimes feel out of place»

40 something is like being a teenager again, things are often awkward and you sometimes feel out of place.

Especially in a city where it's trendy to be monochrome, sometimes I feel out of place adding a pop of colour, but I do feel like it instantly brightens my mood.

But Cuomo is still perceived as being somewhat vulnerable from the left, as his brand of transactional politics sometimes feels out of place in an era of growing Democratic activism.

This one is more surprising and multi-faceted than the others but sometimes feels out of place with its more complex characters.

This character provides the film's narration (the first time Anderson has ever used narration in a movie), which sometimes feels out of place but other times is entertaining and insightful as it reflects the characters» feelings and situations.

This sounds like a pretty great feature to have, but it sometimes felt out of place.

Not exact matches

It gave a familiar and friendly face that you could easily approach when sometimes you may have felt a little out of place or overwhelmed by the situation.

like sometimes my friends invite me to some places to hang out and always let me know that i could invite him too, but i just do nt... cz i know that he wont have money to pay for a single drink even tho he is currently working what he gets its not enough for him, cz he pays rent and i do nt cz i still live with my folks, and he everyday buys food and dinner, but is not really a good feeling... and on top of this.......

Curiously, sometimes people who feel touched out find that if they can be the one to give a hug (rather than waiting to receive one), it helps bring them back to a place of wanting to be touched again.

Sometimes single dads feel a little out of place t really appreciated being recognized for their unique contributions to their family.

Each character now feels like a part of the unit, whereas some in the original felt out - of - place and sometimes needless.

I still remember her licking my face as we placed her catheter (prior to any pain medication taking effect), I still remember her family crying as they decided to euthanize her after failing to qualify for payments for her anticipated care costs, I still remember the sinking feeling in my stomach as I called my husband to inform him we were now the proud owners of a pup that would require over 2 months of care ranging in costs potentially exceeding $ 2000 (of course with a plan to adopt her out eventually), I still remember the calm of the intern working with me that night as he gently patted my shoulder and told me «you did a good thing», I still remember all of the orthopedic specialists working with me to heal her shattered ankle week after week after week as we replaced her bivalve cast (sometimes twice a week!)

It isn't too shabby sound wise either, you have a narrator who does a good job in commentating as you make your way through dungeons too, and it never felt out of place, which can sometimes be the case.

Sometimes I enjoy putting them somewhere — backgrounds function the way the clothes do, conveying information about the person in the painting, but sometimes making them feel out of place toSometimes I enjoy putting them somewhere — backgrounds function the way the clothes do, conveying information about the person in the painting, but sometimes making them feel out of place tosometimes making them feel out of place too.»

sometimes not at all... but never feeling pushed to place things out there which is not going to help the whole body of work.

, 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,

Work can feel like it is sucking the life out of you sometimes, so allow your relationship to be a place where you have fun and recharge.

Sometimes too modern a kitchen can feel cold and out of place within a traditional home like this one that has cherry wood wainscoting throughout and original wood floors from the 1930's.