您搜索了: may pangalan siya (他加禄语 - 英语)

balang may pangalan
bullet with a name

sa may pangalan lang dito
i have a name

yung may pangalan sa listahan
to everyone on the list

mga larawan ng bagay na may pangalan
pictures of objects with names

nakalagay sa ibabaw ng lamesa na may pangalan
standing on top of the table

may pangalan ka ba? o pwede ko bang tawaging akin?
do you have a name? or can i call you mine?

opo dahil mahalaga ang may pangalan sa buhay dahil ang pangalan ang siyang pagkakakinlan sa bawat tao.
have you lives in accordance to your name?

pamamaraan `%.250s' ay may pangalan na labis ang haba (%d > %d karakter)
method `%.250s' has name that is too long (%d > %d characters)

ang isang pakete na may pangalan mo ay gaganapin sa kapalong, dahil sa isang sirang label. alamin ang higit pa dito: norj.me/4k15v
a package with your name is being held at kapalong, due to a broken label. find out more here: norj.me/4k15v

alam na si gng. mallard ay pinagdudusahan ng isang sakit sa puso, maingat na kinuha upang masabi sa kanya nang banayad hangga't maaari ang balita tungkol sa pagkamatay ng kanyang asawa. ito ang kanyang kapatid na si josephine na nagsabi sa kanya, sa mga sirang pangungusap; may takip na mga pahiwatig na nagsiwalat sa kalahating pagtatago. ang kaibigan ng asawa niyang si richards ay nandoon din, malapit sa kanya. siya ang naging sa tanggapan ng pahayagan nang matanggap ang katalinuhan sa sakuna ng riles, na may pangalan ni brently mallard na nangunguna sa listahan ng "pinatay." mayroon lamang siyang t
knowing that mrs. mallard was afflicted with a heart trouble, great care was taken to break to her as gently as possible the news of her husband's death. it was her sister josephine who told her, in broken sentences; veiled hints that revealed in half concealing. her husband's friend richards was there, too, near her. it was he who had been in the newspaper office when intelligence of the railroad disaster was received, with brently mallard's name leading the list of "killed." he had with her will--as powerless as her two white slender hands would have been. when she abandoned herself, a little whispered word escaped her slightly parted lips. she said it over and over under her breath: "free, free, free!" the vacant stare and the look of terror that had followed it went from her eyes. they stayed keen and bright. her pulses beat fast, and the coursing blood warmed and relaxed every inch of her body. she did not stop to ask if it were or were not a monstrous joy that held her. a clear and exalted perception enabled her to dismiss the suggestion as trivial. she knew that she would weep again when she saw the kind, tender hands folded in death; the face that had never looked save with love upon her, fixed and gray and dead. but she saw beyond that bitter moment a long procession of years to come that would belong to her absolutely. and she opened and spread her arms out to them in welcome. there would be no one to live for during those coming years; she would live for herself. there would be no powerful will bending hers in that blind persistence with which men and women believe they have a right to impose a private will upon a fellow-creature. a kind intention or a cruel intention made the act seem no less a crime as she looked upon it in that brief moment of illumination. and yet she had loved him--sometimes. often, she had not. what did it matter! what could love, the unsolved mystery, count for in the face of this possession of self-assertion which she suddenly recognized as the strongest impulse of her being! "free! body and soul free!" she kept whispering. josephine was kneeling before the closed door with her lips to the key- hold, imploring for admission. "louise, open the door! i beg; open the door--you will make yourself ill. what are you doing, louise? for heaven's sake open the door." "go away. i am not making myself ill." no; she was drinking in a very elixir of life through that open window. her fancy was running riot along those days ahead of her. spring days, and summer days, and all sorts of days that would be her own. she breathed a quick prayer that life might be long. it was only yesterday she had thought with a shudder that life might be long. she arose at length and opened the door to her sister's importunities. there was a feverish triumph in her eyes, and she carried herself unwittingly like a goddess of victory. she clasped her sister's waist, and together they descended the stairs. richards stood waiting for them at the bottom. someone was opening the front door with a latchkey. it was brently mallard who entered, a little travel-stained, composedly carrying his gripsack and umbrella. he had been far from the scene of the accident and did not even know there had been one. he stood amazed at josephine's piercing cry; at richards' quick motion to screen him from the view of his wife. when the doctors came they said she had died of heart disease--of the joy that kills.