Vous avez cherché: there's so many question i want to ask you (Anglais - Tagalog)

there's so many question i want to ask you
ask the question to different people.record their answer including your answer

there's so much i want to do
ang dami kong gustong sabihin

question i want to ask
may gusto po kasi akong itanonn sainyo

i just want to ask you
kumusta na siya

i want to ask you something
naman akong gusto itanong sayo

i want to ask
papasok ba ako sa lunes

i want to ask you out but i'm scared
i am nervous to ask you out

i want to ask a question
gusto kong mag tanong

it's one day that i want to ask you if you want show me your beautiful ass
it 's one day that i want to ask you if you want to show me your beautiful ass

i just want to ask you if you consider my concern
gusto ko lang itanong sa iyo

i want to ask you a question if you don’t mind
kung hindi mo alintana itanong ko sa iyo ang isang bagay

i want to ask that your heart never does
tagalog

i'm going to ask you first if you want to ask me
ou nalang

we want to ask you a few questions about your relationship with elliot butler.
gusto ka naming tanungin tungkol sa relasyon mo kay elliot butler.

firstly , i just want to ask you if you have heard of forex trading and how people benefit from it ?
firstly , i just want to ask you if you have heard of forex trading and how people benefit from it ?

what if i want to ask you something i still haven't forgotten what george told me that he likes me what did you like about me and why? do you miss
what if i want to ask you something i still haven 't forgotten what george told me that he likes me what did you like about me and why? do you miss

i want you to know that i love you and i dream to be with you forever and ever and i think this is the perfect time to ask you this will you be my lady until the end of time babe will you marry me
nais kong malaman mo na mahal kita at pinapangarap kong makasama ka magpakailanman at sa palagay ko ito ang perpektong oras upang tanungin ka na ito ba ay ikaw ang aking magiging babae hanggang sa katapusan ng panahon babe papakasalan mo ba ako

i want to work and live there so that i can help my mother, my brother, and our relatives here.
gusto ko magkapamilya dyan, kung sa trabaho naman ay meron akobsapat na requirements para makapasok

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