Results for considerate translation from English to Tagalog

considerate
ngayon markahan ang isang hindi kapani-paniwala milyahe para sa iyo at grab 1 taon na magkasama ay kamangha-manghang. inaasahan namin na ang paglalakbay na ito ay naging kapaki-pakinabang para sa iyo tulad ng naging para sa amin. ipagpatuloy natin ang mabuting gawain na magkasama, at tandaan, palagi kaming naririto para sa iyo

considerate person
mapag bilang na tao sa trabaho

considerate to others
maging konsidera sa iba.

considerate tagalog meaning
salungat tagalog meaning

i hope you will considerate my questions
sana po ay maging considerate kayo sa aking kahilingan..

i am always very courteous and considerate
i am always very courteous and considerate.

be considerate about the feelings of other
maasahan mo siya

we have learned to be kind and considerate of others
natutunan namin ang pagbibigayan at pagiging mayroong malasakit sa kapwa

kindness: being considerate and treating others well.
maging mabait sa iba

the patient has the right to considerate and respectful care
bill ng mga karapatan ng mga pasyente

the service we given for the customer are being considerate and kindness.
ang serbisyo na ibinigay namin para sa customer ay pagiging maalalahanin at kabaitan.

senen said hello to margaret and stated was 100 percent consistent considerate respectful to her plus respectful to senen back
sinabi ni senen na hello kay margaret at stated ay 100 porsiyento na pare - pareho ang pagsasaalang - alang na magalang sa kanya at magalang kay senen pabalik

what i like about women is that they are kind, sensual, considerate, serious and that we can agree on everything.
ang gusto ko sa mga babae ay mabait, malibog, mapagbigay, seryoso at magkakasundo kami sa lahat ng bagay.

a low art [excerpt from the penelopiad] by margaret atwood (canada) now that i’m dead i know everything. this is what i wished would happen, but like so many of my wishes it failed to come true. i know only a few factoids that i didn’t know before. death is much too high a price to pay for the satisfaction of curiosity, needless to say. since being dead — since achieving this state of bonelessness, liplessness, breastlessness —i’ve learned some things i would rather not know, as one does when listening at windows or opening ot her people’s letters. you think you’d like to read minds? think again. down here everyone arrives with a sack, like the sacks used to keep the winds in, but each of these sacks is full of words —words you’ve spoken, words you’ve heard, wo rds that have been said about you. some sacks are very small, others large; my own is of a reasonable size, though a lot of the words in it concern my eminent husband. what a fool he made of me, some say. it was a specialty of his: making fools. he got away with everything, which was another of his specialties: getting away. he was always so plausible. many people have believed that his version of events was the true one, give or take a few murders, a few beautiful seductresses, a few one-eyed monsters. even i believed him, from time to time. i knew he was tricky and a liar, i just didn’t think he would play his tricks and try out his lies on me. hadn’t i been faithful? hadn’t i waited, and waited, and waited, despite the temptation — almost the compulsion — to do otherwise? and what did i amount to, once the official version gained ground? an edifying legend. a stick used to beat other women with. why couldn’t they be as considerate, as trustworthy, as all-suffering as i had been? that was the line they took, the singers, the yarn- spinners. don’t follow my example, i want to scream in your ears — yes, yours! but when i try to scream, i sound like an owl. of course i had inklings, about his slipperiness, his wiliness, his foxiness, his — how can i put this? — his unscrupulousness, but i turned a blind eye. i kept my mouth shut; or if i opened it, i sang his praises. i didn’t contradict, i didn’t ask awkward questions, i didn’t dig deep. i wanted happy endings in those days, and happy endings are best achieved by keeping the right doors locked and going to sleep during the rampages. but after the main events were over and things had become less legendary, i realised how many people were laughing at me behind my back — how they were jeering, making jokes about me, jokes both clean and dirty; how they were turning me into a story, or into several stories, though not the kind of stories i’d prefer to hear about m yself. what can a woman do when scandalous gossip travels the world? if she defends herself she sounds guilty. so i waited some more. now that all the others have run out of air, it’s my t urn to do a little storymaking. i owe it to myself. i’ve had to work myself up to it: it’s a low art, tale-telling. old women go in for it, strolling beggars, blind singers, maidservants, children — folks with time on their hands. once, people would have laughed if i’d tried to play th e minstrel —there’s nothing more preposterous than an aristocrat fumbling around with the arts — but who cares about public opinion now? the opinion of the people down here: the opinions of shadows, of echoes. so i’ll spin a thread of my own.
isang mababang kwento ng sining sa tagalog