Results for thankyou for the kind speech if y... translation from English to Tagalog

thankyou for the discouragement
salamat sa pampatibay-loob tuwing nalulungkot ako

and thankyou for the love and support that you gave
at thankyou para sa pag-ibig at suportahan na ginawa mo

i just look for the kind that won't fool me
hanap ko lang

desscribing how your gender female may be the reason for the kind of social person you are today.hightlight the significant opportunities that have been afforded to you as well as the constraints you constanly encounter as you negative the social word.in addition offer a personal assessment of a reason for these opportunities and constraits
ang pagdidisenyo kung paano ang iyong kasarian na babae ay maaaring maging dahilan para sa uri ng taong panlipunan ka ngayon. i-highlight ang mga makabuluhang oportunidad na naibigay sa iyo pati na rin ang mga hadlang na palagi mong nakasalubong habang negatibo mo ang salitang panlipunan. bilang karagdagan mag-alok ng isang personal na pagtatasa ng isang dahilan para sa mga pagkakataong ito at hadlang

finally, letting you go. thanks for the memories and lesson. i'm always here supporting you silently. thankyou for coming into my life. i hope you become happy with him. thanks for making me the happiest.
finally,letting you go. thanks for the memories and lesson. i'm always here supporting you silently. thankyou for coming into my life. i hope you become happy with him. thanks for making me the happiest.

as long as the system of our government cannot be changed, we will bear the effects of corruption in our country for the rest of our lives. it is painful to admit that no matter how hard we try, it will be difficult for us to rise in life because of the kind of country we live in, of which only a few are blessed.
hannggang hindi mababago ang sistema ng ating pamahalaan ay habang buhay nating pasanin sa ating mga balikat ang epekto ng korupsyon sa ating bansa. masakit man aminin na kahit anong gawin natin na pagpupursigi ay mahirap tayong maka angat sa buhay dahil sa uri ng bansa na ating ginagalawan, na kung saan ay iilan lamang ang pinagpapala.

since managers are committed to work hard and even exceed beyond thier own responsibility, plenty of employees are able to live with hope for the future. also, managers are trusted and well respected by the people.i believe that living a life where we receive joy and appreciaton from others that cannot be replaced with money is such a wonderful life and is the kind of life worth the troubles.
since managers are committed to work hard and even exceed beyond thier own responsibility,plenty of employees are able to live with hope for the future. also,managers are trusted and well respected by the people.i believe that living a life where we receive joy and appreciaton from others that cannot be replaced with money is such a wonderful life and is the kind of life worth the troubles.

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