Results for karma never loses an address translation from English to Tamil

karma never loses address
கர்மா ஒருபோதும் முகவரியை இழக்காது

hope never lose
ஆனால் கடினமானது சாத்தியமற்றது

never lose the hope
ஒருபோதும் நம்பிக்கையை இழக்காதீர்கள்

comment=filters contacts in an address book
comment=இணைப்பு விவரிப்புகள்

unable to create an address book of type %1.
கொடுக்கப்பட்டுள்ள பெயர்:

never lose your self in love anyone
காதலில் உன் சுயத்தை ஒருபோதும் இழக்காதே

i will never lose you for any situation
நான் உன்னை ஒருபோதும் இழக்க மாட்டேன்

whatever i never lose your friendship
எதுவாக இருந்தாலும் நான் உங்கள் நட்பை இழக்கவில்லை

i will never lose myself again and again
நான் மீண்டும் ஒருபோதும் என்னை இழக்க மாட்டேன்

never lose hope just when you think it's over
நம்பிக்கையை இழக்க வேண்டாம்

in life we never lose friends we only learn who the true one' are
வாழ்க்கையில் நாம் ஒருபோதும் நண்பர்களை இழக்க மாட்டோம்

iam ready to say sorry thousand times but i don't never lose you
நான் ஆயிரம் முறை மன்னிப்பு கேட்கத் தயாராக இருக்கிறேன்

never lose hope. just when you think it’s over. god sends you a miracle
ஒருபோதும் கைவிடாதீர்கள் கடவுள் உங்களுடன் இருக்கிறார் என்ற நம்பிக்கையை ஒருபோதும் இழக்காதீர்கள்

this option allows to specify the structural objectclass used with users' entries. if you want to use these entries not just for authentication, but for an address book, too, then choose inetorgperson.
இந்த விருப்பம் வடிவமைத்த பொருள் வகுப்பை பயன்படுத்த பயனர் உள்ளீட்டோடு அணுமதிக்கும். நீங்கள் இந்த உள்ளீட்டை அங்கீகரிக்க விரும்பாவிட்டால், ஆணால் ஒரு முகவரிபுத்தகத்திற்க்காக, கூட, பிறகு inetorgperson யை தேர்ந்தெடுக்கவும்.

i'm doing nothingi had been staying with a friend of mine, an artist and delightfully lazy fellow, at his cottage among the yorkshire fells, some ten miles from a railway-station; and as we had been fortunate enough to encounter a sudden spell of really warm weather, day after day we had set off in the morning, taken the nearest moorland track, climbed leisurely until we had reached somewhere about two thousand feet above sea-level, and had then spent long golden afternoon lying flat on our backs – doing nothing. there is no better lounging place than a moor. it is a kind of clean bare antechamber to heaven. beneath its apparent monotony that offers no immediate excitement, no absorbing drama of sound and colour, there is subtle variety in its slowly changing patterns of cloud and shadow and tinted horizons, sufficient to keep up a flicker of interest in the mind all day. with its velvety patches, no bigger than a drawing-room carpet, of fine moorland grass, its surfaces invite repose. its remoteness, its permanence, its old and sprawling indifference to man and his concerns, rest and cleanse the mind. all the noises of the world are drowned in the one monotonous cry of the curlew. day after day, then, found us full-stretched upon the moor, looking up at the sky or gazing dreamily at the distant horizon. it is not strictly true, of course, to say that we did absolutely nothing, for we smoked great quantities of tobacco, ate sandwiches and little sticks of chocolate, drank from the cold bubbling streams that spring up from nowhere, gurgle for a few score yards, then disappear again. occasionally we exchanged a remark to two. but we probably came as close to doing nothing as it is possible for two members of our race. we made nothing, not even any plans; not a single idea entered our heads; we did not even indulge in that genial boasting which is the usual pastime of two friendly males in conference. somewhere, far away, our friends and relatives were humming and bustling, shaping and contriving, planning, disputing, getting, spending; but we were gods, solidly occupied in doing nothing, our minds immaculate vacancies. but when our little hour of idling was done and we descended for the last time, as flushed as sunsets, we came down into this world of men and newspaper owners only to discover that we had just been denounced by mr gordon selfridge. when and where he had been denouncing us i do not know. nor do i know what hilarious company had invited and received his conferences. strange things happen at this season, when the unfamiliar sun ripens our eccentricities. it was only last year or the year before that some enterprising person who had organized a conducted tour to the continental arranged, as bait for the more intellectual holiday-makers, that a series if lectures should be given to the party by eminent authors at various places en route. the happy tourists set out, and their conductor was as good as his word, for behold – at the very first stopping-place dean inge gave them an address on the modern love of pleasure. but whether mr selfridge had been addressing a crowd of holiday-makers or a solemn conference of emporium owners, i do not know, but i do know that he said that he hated laziness more than anything else and held it the greatest of sins. i believe too that he delivered some judgment on persons who waste time, but i have forgotten his reasons and instances and, to be frank, would count it a disgraceful waste of time to discover again what they were. mr selfridge did not mention us by name, but it is hardly possible to doubt that he had us in mind throughout his attack on idleness. perhaps he had had a frantic vision of the pair of us lying flat on our backs on the moor, wasting time royally while the world’s work waited to be done, and, incidentally, to be afterwards bought and sold in mr selfridge’s store. i hope he had, for the sight should have done him good; we are a pleasing spectacle at any time, but when we are doing nothing it would do any man’s heart good to see us, even in the most fragmentary and baffling vision.
நான் ஒன்றும் செய்வதில்லை