Results for to get my way i would run from he... translation from English to Italian

if i were to have my way, i would invest less funds in agriculture but within this sector, give more to the poorest.
la mia posizione può essere riassunta nel modo seguente: meno risorse all' agricoltura e, di queste, una fetta maggiore ai più bisognosi.

mr president, if the commissioner says it is possible to get support instead of the traffic which might stop, i would say this to him.
signor presidente, quando il commissario dice che si possono chiedere aiuti per i trasporti che rischiano di essere soppressi, mi sento in dovere di puntualizzare.

if i had my way, i would scrap this as a whole, as i have also said during the debate.
vorrei eliminare questi punti, come ho sottolineato nel corso del dibattito.

the commission also had other calculations, but i was unable to get my way in the parliamentary delegation.
e' quindi ovvio che io sia a favore del compromesso raggiunto.

i would like to say to him that it is not through lack of effort on our part that it has taken a long time to get this question on the agenda.
vorrei dirgli che non è imputabile a una mancanza di impegno da parte nostra se ci è voluto tanto tempo per mettere questo punto all' ordine del giorno.

in this month i would really like to make you understand how it is necessary to be near the madonna, how much beautiful it is to work with her and to learn from her to grow in virtues.
in questo mese vorrei proprio farti capire come è necessario stare vicini alla madonna, quanto è bello lavorare con lei e imparare da lei a crescere nelle virtù.

thirdly, in the morning i would like to be able to get my newspaper quickly.
terzo: al mattino mi piacerebbe poter comprare velocemente il giornale.

often after a race it was difficult to get close to her quickly and i had to push my way among the crowds, but my moment of triumph always came as she would lift me up high on the podium and i would dedicate a stare or two to those who had not let me pass by!
spesso dopo una gara era difficile per me raggiungerla facendomi spazio tra la gente, ma il mio trionfo arrivava sempre quando mi alzava dal palco o dal podio e io soddisfatta guardavo chi non mi aveva voluto far passare.

any attempt to get away from her resulted in more of her blows landing on me. if i would ask her to please stop, she wouldn’t and instead would do things like spit in my face or dig her nails into me, etc.
tutto il tentativo di ottenere via da lei ha provocato più dei suoi colpi che atterrano su di me. se gli chiederà di soddisfare l'arresto, e preferibilmente farebbe le cose come lo sputo nella mia faccia e scaverebbe le unghia a me, etc.

he said she was shutting him out and when they were together, she didn’t seem to want to go home. i suggested he take her somewhere quiet on saturday and try to get her to talk to him.
ha detto che lei lo stava chiudendo fuori e quando erano insieme, lei non sembra voler tornare a casa. gli ho suggerito di prendere il suo posto tranquillo il sabato e cercare di convincerla a parlare con lui.

me, i was twenty then and hadn’t done many bad things yet, but once i wanted to get my way, so i dropped a heavy thing on my sister’s leg.
in quei venti anni non avevo fatto molte cose brutte, ma una volta ho voluto realizzare una cattiva intenzione facendo cadere sul piede di mia sorella una cosa pesante.

first, i would have had to get my wife to place both wrists together, prayer- like, so that i could grip them with one of my hands.
in primo luogo, avrei dovuto attirare la mia moglie nella collocazione degli entrambi i polsi insieme, come se nella preghiera, di modo che ho potuto gripparlo con una delle mie mani.

if i had my way, i would wave a magic wand and equalise excise taxes across europe. as a result, smuggling would no longer take place except if products were intrinsically more expensive in one member state than another.
se potessi fare di testa mia, con una bacchetta magica armonizzerei le accise in tutta europa, così il contrabbando non esisterebbe più, se non nei casi in cui certi prodotti sono intrinsecamente più cari in un dato stato membro.

it was quite clear to me at the very beginning that if i had my way i would have a list that was endless, because human rights are so important: they are paramount and are the very reason that the institutions were established so that we never got back to those conditions that created the second world war and the appalling shadow that was cast across so many different peoples and so many different minorities.
per me era chiaro sin dal principio che, se avessi potuto, avrei compilato un elenco infinito, poiché i diritti dell'uomo sono davvero importanti: sono la ragione principale per cui sono state fondate le istituzioni in modo da non tornare mai a quelle condizioni che hanno generato la seconda guerra mondiale e l'ombra spaventosa allungatasi su così tanti popoli diversi e così tante minoranze diverse.

does that make me a “goof”? am i wasting the reporter’s time in running for office? that’s up to him or her to answer; but i would say that there is a serious side to my electoral venture.
non che mi fanno una "cantonata"? sto perdendo tempo il cronista in corsa per ufficio? che sta a lui o lei a rispondere, ma direi che c'è un lato serio al mio venture elettorale.

but i think i would say anne arnold, an english professor at montana state university/billings.because i didn't especially like english but had to take two english courses to get my liberal arts degree, i decided to fulfill one by taking a summer course in billings because i thought it would be a soft option.anne arnold was almost sixty that summer.
ma penso che direi anne arnold, una professoressa di inglese della montana state university/billings. dato che io non amavo particolarmente l'inglese, ma dovevo fare due esami di inglese per ottenere il diploma in arti liberali, ho deciso di sceglierne uno estivo a billings perché pensavo che sarebbe stato facile. anne arnold quell'estate aveva quasi sessant'anni.

this may seem extreme, but consider that i’m just getting back into a normal routine, where it usually takes me a couple of months to get my endurance back to this point. i would recommend this product, especially considering the low price, but use it as directed, eat right, drink enough proper fluids, and you should see results.
questi risultati possono sembrare esagerati, ma considera che sono appena tornato alla normale routine di allenamento e, di solito, mi servono almeno un paio di mesi per ottenere la resistenza che ho già acquisito in pochi giorni. vorrei raccomandare questo prodotto a tutti, soprattutto considerando il prezzo assolutamente conveniente, ma voglio darti un consiglio: utilizzalo come indicato dal produttore, mangiando correttamente e bevendo abbastanza liquidi, così dovresti ottenere davvero i risultati che stai cercando.

the last leaf in a little district west of washington square the streets have run crazy and broken themselves into small strips called 'places.' these 'places' make strange angles and curves. one street crosses itself a time or two. an artist once discovered a valuable possibility in this street. suppose a collector with a bill for paints, paper and canvas should, in traversing this route, suddenly meet himself coming back, without a cent having been paid on account! so, to quaint old greenwich village the art people soon came prowling, hunting for north windows and eighteenth-century gables and dutch attics and low rents. then they imported some pewter mugs and a chafing dish or two from sixth avenue, and became a 'colony.' at the top of a squatty, three-story brick sue and johnsy had their studio. 'johnsy' was familiar for joanna. one was from maine, the other from california. they had met at the table d'hôte of an eighth street 'delmonico's,' and found their tastes in art, chicory salad and bishop sleeves so congenial that the joint studio resulted. that was in may. in november a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctors called pneumonia, stalked about the colony, touching one here and there with his icy finger. over on the east side this ravager strode boldly, smiting his victims by scores, but his feet trod slowly through the maze of the narrow and moss-grown 'places.' mr. pneumonia was not what you would call a chivalric old gentleman. a mite of a little woman with blood thinned by californian zephyrs was hardly fair game for the red-fisted, short-breathed old duffer. but johnsy he smote; and she lay, scarcely moving, on her painted iron bedstead, looking through the small dutch window-panes at the blank side of the next brick house. one morning the busy doctor invited sue into the hallway with a shaggy, grey eyebrow. 'she has one chance in - let us say, ten,' he said, as he shook down the mercury in his clinical thermometer. 'and that chance is for her to want to live. this way people have of lining-up on the side of the undertaker makes the entire pharmacopoeia look silly. your little lady has made up her mind that she's not going to get well. has she anything on her mind?' 'she - she wanted to paint the bay of naples some day,' said sue. 'paint? - bosh! has she anything on her mind worth thinking about twice - a man, for instance?' 'a man?' said sue, with a jews'-harp twang in her voice. 'is a man worth - but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind.' 'well, it is the weakness, then,' said the doctor. 'i will do all that science, so far as it may filter through my efforts, can accomplish. but whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession i subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines. if you will get her to ask one question about the new winter styles in cloak sleeves i will promise you a one-in-five chance for her, instead of one in ten.' after the doctor had gone, sue went into the workroom and cried a japanese napkin to a pulp. then she swaggered into johnsy's room with her drawing-board, whistling ragtime. johnsy lay, scarcely making a ripple under the bedclothes, with her face toward the window. sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep. she arranged her board and began a pen-and-ink drawing to illustrate a magazine story. young artists must pave their way to art by drawing pictures for magazine stories that young authors write to pave their way to literature. as sue was sketching a pair of elegant horseshow riding trousers and a monocle on the figure of the hero, an idaho cowboy, she heard a low sound, several times repeated. she went quickly to the bedside. johnsy's eyes were open wide. she was looking out the window and counting - counting backward. 'twelve,' she said, and a little later, 'eleven'; and then 'ten,' and 'nine'; and then 'eight' and 'seven,' almost together. sue looked solicitously out the window. what was there to count? there was only a bare, dreary yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house twenty feet away. an old, old ivy vine, gnarled and decayed at the roots, climbed half-way up the brick wall. the cold breath of autumn had stricken its leaves from the vine until its skeleton branches clung, almost bare, to the crumbling bricks. 'what is it, dear?' asked sue. 'six,' said johnsy, in almost a whisper. 'they're falling faster now. three days ago there were almost a hundred. it made my head ache to count them. but now it's easy. there goes another one. there are only five left now.' 'five what, dear? tell your sudie.' 'leaves. on the ivy vine. when the last one falls i must go too. i've known that for three days. didn't the doctor tell you?' 'oh, i never heard of such nonsense,' complained sue, with magnificent scorn. 'what have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? and you used to love that vine so, you naughty girl. don't be a goosey. why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were - let's see exactly what he said - he said the chances were ten to one! why, that's almost as good a chance as we have in new york when we ride on the street-cars or walk past a new building. try to take some broth now, and let sudie go back to her drawing, so she can sell the editor man with it, and buy port wine for her sick child, and porkchops for her greedy self.' 'you needn't get any more wine,' said johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. 'there goes another. no, i don't want any broth. that leaves just four. i want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. then i'll go too.' 'johnsy, dear,' said sue, bending over her, 'will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out of the window until i am done working? i must hand those drawings in by to-morrow. i need the light or i would draw the shade down.' 'couldn't you draw in the other room?' asked johnsy coldly. 'i'd rather be here by you,' said sue. 'besides, i don't want you to keep looking at those silly ivy leaves.' 'tell me as soon as you have finished,' said johnsy, closing her eyes, and lying white and still as a fallen statue, 'because i want to see the last one fall. i'm tired of waiting. i'm tired of thinking. i want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves.' 'try to sleep,' said sue. 'i must call behrman up to be my model for the old hermit miner. i'll not be gone a minute. don't try to move till i come back.' old behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them. he was past sixty and had a michael angelo's moses beard curling down from the head of a satyr along the body of an imp. behrman was a failure in art. forty years he had wielded the brush without getting near enough to touch the hem of his mistress's robe. he had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. for several years he had painted nothing except now and then a daub in the line of commerce or advertising. he earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists in the colony who could not pay the price of a professional. he drank gin to excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece. for the rest he was a fierce little old man, who scoffed terribly at softness in anyone, and who regarded himself as especial mastiff-in-waiting to protect the two young artists in the studio above. sue found behrman smelling strongly of juniper berries in his dimly-lighted den below. in one corner was a blank canvas on an easel that had been waiting there for twenty-five years to receive the first line of the masterpiece. she told him of johnsy's fancy, and how she feared she would, indeed, light and fragile as a leaf herself, float away when her slight hold upon the world grew weaker. old behrman, with his red eyes plainly streaming, shouted his contempt and derision for such idiotic imaginings. 'vass!' he cried. 'is dere people in de world mit der foolishness to die because leafs dey drop off from a confounded vine? i haf not heard of such a thing. no, i vill not bose as a model for your fool hermit-dunderhead. vy do you allow dot silly pusiness to come in der prain of her? ach, dot poor little miss yohnsy.' 'she is very ill arid weak,' said sue, 'and the fever has left her mind morbid and full of strange fancies. very well, mr. behrman, if you do not care to pose for me, you needn't. but i think you are a horrid old - old flibberti-gibbet.' 'you are just like a woman!' yelled behrman. 'who said i vill not bose? go on. i come mit you. for half an hour i haf peen trying to say dot i am ready to bose. gott! dis is not any blace in which one so goot as miss yohnsy shall lie sick. some day i vill baint a masterpiece, and ve shall all go avay. gott! yes.' johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. sue pulled the shade down to the window-sill and motioned behrman into the other room. in there they peered out the window fearfully at the ivy vine. then they looked at each other for a moment without speaking. a persistent, cold rain was falling, mingled with snow. behrman, in his old blue shirt, took his seat as the hermit-miner on an upturned kettle for a rock. when sue awoke from an hour's sleep the next morning she found johnsy with dull, wide-open eyes staring at the drawn green shade. 'pull it up! i want to see,' she ordered, in a whisper. wearily sue obeyed. but, lo! after the beating rain and fierce gusts of wind that had endured through the livelong night, there yet stood out against the brick wall one ivy leaf. it was the last on the vine. still dark green near its stem, but with its serrated edges tinted with the yellow of dissolution and decay, it hung bravely from a branch some twenty feet above the ground. 'it is the last one,' said johnsy. 'i thought it would surely fall during the night. i heard the wind. it will fall to-day, and i shall die at the same time.' 'dear, dear!' said sue, leaning her worn face down to the pillow; 'think of me, if you won't think of yourself. what would i do?' but johnsy did not answer. the lonesomest thing in all the world is a soul when it is making ready to go on its mysterious, far journey. the fancy seemed to possess her more strongly as one by one the ties that bound her to friendship and to earth were loosed. the day wore away, and even through the twilight they could see the lone ivy leaf clinging to its stem against the wall. and then, with the coming of the night the north wind was again loosed, while the rain still beat against the windows and pattered down from the low dutch eaves. when it was light enough johnsy, the merciless, commanded that the shade be raised. the ivy leaf was still there. johnsy lay for a long time looking at it. and then she called to sue, who was stirring her chicken broth over the gas stove. 'i've been a bad girl, sudie,' said johnsy. 'something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how wicked i was. it is a sin to want to die. you may bring me a little broth now, and some milk with a little port in it, and - no; bring me a hand-mirror first; and then pack some pillows about me, and i will sit up and watch you cook.' an hour later she said - 'sudie, some day i hope to paint the bay of naples.' the doctor came in the afternoon, and sue had an excuse to go into the hallway as he left. 'even chances,' said the doctor, talking sue's thin, shaking hand in his. 'with good nursing you'll win. and now i must see another case i have downstairs. behrman, his name is -- some kind of an artist, i believe. pneumonia, too. he is an old, weak man, and the attack is acute. there is no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital to-day to be made more comfortable.' the next day the doctor said to sue: 'she's out of danger. you've won. nutrition and care now - that's all.' and that afternoon sue came to the bed where johnsy lay, contentedly knitting a very blue and very useless woollen shoulder scarf, and put one arm around her, pillows and all. 'i have something to tell you, white mouse,' she said. 'mr. behrman died of pneumonia today in hospital. he was ill only two days. the janitor found him on the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. his shoes and clothing were wet through and icy cold. they couldn't imagine where he had been on such a dreadful night. and then they found a lantern, still lighted, and a ladder that had been dragged from its place, and some scattered brushes, and a palette with green and yellow colours mixed on it, and - look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. didn't you wonder why it never fluttered or moved when the wind blew? ah, darling, it's behrman's masterpiece - he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell.' enry
l'ultima foglia storia inglese con lo scrittore o henry