Você procurou por: never stop looking up (Inglês - Tamil)

looking up %1
% 1ஐ தேடுகிறது

never stop learning
பார்க்க வேண்டாம்

looking up correct file
சரியான கோப்பு பார்க்கப்படுகிறது

i never stop loving you
நான் உன்னை காதலிக்காதே, உன்னைக் காட்டாதே

i never stop loving you.
நான் உன்னை நேசிப்பதை ஒருபோதும் நிறுத்த மாட்டேன், நான் உன்னைக் காண்பிப்பதை நிறுத்துகிறேன்

i will never stop lovin you
நீங்கள் இங்கே இருக்க விரும்புக

error looking up for "%1"
பிழை சோதிப்பதில் "% 1"

i am never stop my hard work
நான் என் கடின உழைப்பை நிறுத்தவில்லை

never stop learning because life never stop
வாழ்க்கை ஒருபோதும் நிற்காது என்பதால் கற்றுக்கொள்வதை ஒருபோதும் நிறுத்த வேண்டாம்

never stop learning because never stop teaching
life never stops to teach u

never stop showing someone how much they mean to me
நீ எனக்கு எவ்வளவு முக்கியத்துவம் கொடுக்கிறாய் என்பதை ஒருபோதும் ஒருவருக்குக் காட்டுவதை நிறுத்தாதே

then he looked at the stars, looking up once,
பின்னர் அவர் நட்சத்திரங்களை ஒரு பார்வை பார்த்தார்.

promise never stop loving you until my last breath
என் கடைசி மூச்சு வரை உன்னை நேசிப்பதை ஒருபோதும் நிறுத்த மாட்டேன் என்று உறுதியளிக்கவும்

never stop being a good person because of bad people
கெட்ட நபர்கள் காரணமாக ஒரு நல்ல நபரை ஒருபோதும் நிறுத்த வேண்டாம்

and their brothers, they prolong them in error, and they will never stop.
ஆனால் ஷைத்தான்களின் சதோதரர்களோ அவர்களை வழி கேட்டிலேயே இழுத்துச் செல்வார்கள் - அவர்கள் (பாவத்தின் பாதையிலான தம் முயற்சியில்) யாதொரு குறையும் செய்ய மாட்டார்கள்.

"by god," said they, "you will never stop thinking of joseph till you are consumed or perish."
(இதைக் கண்ணுற்ற அவருடைய மக்கள்; தந்தையே!) "அல்லாஹ்வின் மீது சத்தியமாக! நீங்கள் யூஸுஃபை நினைத்து (நினைத்து அழுது, நோயுற்று,) இளைத்து மடிந்து போகும் வரை (அவர் எண்ணத்தை விட்டும்) நீங்க மாட்டீர்கள்" என்று கூறினார்கள்.

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