Translator Angielski już nie będzie ci potrzebny kiedy uczysz się angielskiego we własnym pokoju Bielsko-Biała style
Wierzę w pomysł uchwalenia angielskiego jako wspólny język dla świata. Nie doceniam prozaicznego programu w jakim angielski język jest nauczany.
Dla Bielsko-Biała szkoła angielskiego powinno być zgromadzenie Bielszczanów którzy pragną opanować angielski i decydują się na pozbywanie wszelkiego wstydu w osiągnięcu celu.
Uczyć się angielskiego to nie karczmy w Bielsku - do których wpadamy raz na jakiś czas z przyjemnością.
Trzeba być aktywny. Trzeba być systematyczny. Trzeba mieć dobry plan.
Ze sztuką dla kobiet pomagamy położyć kres przemocy domowej
Siła i godność strojem jej...
Księga Przysłów 31:25
Uwaga Autora: zostałem zabroniony od dzielenia szczegółów dotyczące mojego prawdziwego romansu przedsięwzięcia, do czasu, gdy druga strona jest gotowa do przedstawienia swojego punktu widzenia afery układu...
Mój samolot wylądował w Polsce 20 czerwca. Miesiąc później byłem w Austrii. Dwa dni później, w Słowenii. Następnego dnia, w Chorwacji. Tydzień później, we Włoszech. Następnego dnia, w Szwajcarii. Następnego dnia, we Francji. Następnego dnia, w Niemczech. Następnego dnia, w Belgii. Następnego dnia, w Holandii. Wszystko w towarzystwie kobiety którą poznałem mojego pierwszego weekendu w kraju.
Chociaż czułem w pełni ukształtowany jako pisarz, i byłem przeszkolony do użycia języka wizualnego, to był mój pierwszy raz z profesjonalnym aparatem w rękach. Zacząłem uczyć się od podszewki i przybyłem do Europy, aby znaleźć najbardziej zróżnicowanego wyboru tematu co możliwe, najlepiej coś, co pasowało do mojej estetyki oddany promowaniu akceptacji ciała. Tu weszła Gosia.
Dorastałam w Ameryce. "Land of opportunity," czyli lużno przetłumaczone, teren szans. Pełnoletność przyszła w latach 90. kiedy wszystko było możliwe. Ona wychowała się w Polsce. Dorastała w czasach, gdy Sowieci upewnili, że nie było nawet co jeść w kraju. Żadna niespodzianka że nie można nawet poprawnie przetłumaczyć słowo "opportunity" na język polski.
Pomimo policjantów w Wiedniu. Mimo deszczu w Veržej. Pomimo zagubienia się we Włoszech. Mimo rozstania się w Soest. Pomimo tej nocy w Amsterdamie. Mimo naszej walki w Lisieux. Mimo burzy w Bois de la Roche. Pomimo tego strasznego poranka poza Collonges. Pomimo długiej drodze do Pielenhofen, wróciliśmy cali i zdrowi, a co najważniejsze, byliśmy szczęśliwi. Zaczęliśmy uczyć się jak słuchać. Zostawiliśmy za nami diabły z drogi i te pozostałe diabły z przódu wydawały się trochę mniejszy. Zaczęliśmy się otwierać.
Michal's Słownik Polsko Angielski: Tłumaczając słowo Ktoś
Wymowa dla kobiet angielskiego odpowiednika na Ktoś
Jeszcze nie opublikowałem dla kobiet wymowę angielskiego odpowiednika na "ktoś."
Definicja dla kobiet angielskiego odpowiednika na Ktoś
Podstawowym amerykańskim angielskim odpowiednikiem na ktoś jest angielskie słowo Somebody.
Szczegóły w krótkim czasie.
Powszechne stosowanie angielskiego odpowiednika na ktoś w przykładowych zdań
Stosowanie angielskiego odpowiednika na Ktoś w Korpusie Utworów Michała
Jeszcze muszę zrobić dla kobiet analizę morfologiczną dla angielskiego odpowiednika na "ktoś."
To nie znaczy, że nie jest wysoko na moim liście.
Tabela częstotliwości angielskiego odpowiednika na "Ktoś."
Wymienione w tabeli w kolejności malejącej łączna liczba razy, iż angielski odpowiednik na "ktoś" i wszelkie jego morfologiczne formy pojawiają się w Korpusie, oraz podział częstotliwości według dzieł, odpowiedni ranking każdego słowa lub zestawu słów według pełnej listy wszystkich słów w Korpusie, obliczone zarówno gęsto i konkurencyjnie, oraz wzrost procentowy częstotliwości słowa według częstotliwości słowa z następnego niższego stopnia w pełnej liscie.
Procentowy wzrost nad następnej rangi
Całkowita liczba wystąpień
Jeszcze nie opublikowałem dla kobiet tabelę częstotliwości dla angielskiego odpowiednika na ktoś," ale wkrótce do tego się weżmę. -Michal
Stosowanie angielskiego odpowiednika na ktoś wEwangelia Jezusa H.
Jesus jumped. Like the wolf, he leaped onto the man's chest, embracing his arms, and, leaning his head down into his neck, as if to kiss him, he grabbed a hold of his tender flesh; his teeth squeezed muscle and vein (the sternocleidomastoid to be exact, and the jugular) which Jesus ripped from the man's neck. Blood was everywhere. Flesh hung from your father's teeth. The man dropped in screeching cries of anguish. Jesus leaned over and took the gun. The door to the Accountant's room flew open. Jesus fired. The man who had taken his letters fell down. The light in the Accountant's room went out. Jesus picked up the lamp (the one he had dropped before he leaped). He threw it into the Accountant's room. He turned around and crouched. The doorman appeared from around the corner with a flashlight. Jesus fired. The flashlight fell down. Jesus got up and turned back. The lamp was still lit inside the room. Jesus approached obliquely. Someone's leg was trying to reach the lamp from behind a desk. Jesus put the rifle's butt by his shoulder and shot the leg. Somebody cried. Then, someone shot, but to no avail. There were two people inside that room at least. Jesus slowly crabbed among the tied-up soldiers. There was a man inside: behind the desk, aiming a pistol through the doorway. Jesus smiled: the man couldn't see a goddamn thing. So Jesus shot him in the head. The other man lifted himself up from behind the desk, swinging his arm around and ready to shoot anything. Jesus shot him in the heart. That was it: five men dead: four guards and one Accountant. Jesus carefully checked every corner with the flashlight. That was it. Everybody else must be robbing the bank, Jesus thought. The real terrorists had no idea. Jesus smiled; he chuckled: there was no one else - just him, and a platoon. Perfect.
Money laundering didn't matter that much to me. Perhaps the others thought that we were out there looking for proof that the Krupniks were criminals - incriminating evidence to give the procuracy - but they were wrong. I was after Leonard Cohen-Krupnik's head, not his freedom. Besides, it would've been rather hypocritical of us to betray the Krupniks for crimes like that; we were guilty of laundering money too. We were working with stolen cash - somebody's life savings perhaps - who knows? The truth of the matter was: we needed more. Stalin was right. We were spending too much money too quickly. We required employment, and, unlike everybody else, we had no trouble finding it. Security was in high demand. Unfortunately, only the rich could afford us. Instead of working for people like the Krupniks, I told Stalin to work for something slightly less despicable, like the State, for example, or - even better - the Church.
Oh Bartolomeo! Maestro da canne! For whom the Republic of Venice gave thanks! You gave hope to the weak and weary! More strength to the strong! A lifeline for Freedom! A slicker noose for the wrong! You gave both cold and hot, forward and back; a wife to the tyrant, and life to the revolutionary son; fear to the many, and rule to the one. You were indifferent. As long as people paid, you made guns. If not for you, what would've happened? Somebody else would've taken your smoky rank in the annals of industry: grandfather of arms! You gave your descendents an unparalleled legacy: your long and hard barrels, shooting with unflinching consistency, ensured over the centuries that your plant would not be torn from your family's hands. Berettas live on! They still make their weapons! They sell them! So don't be surprised that Jesus tried the same.
The latest scandal involved the recently privatized PZU. Somebody important in the government kept confessing - and with great relief, claiming that he had carried around this secret for five years - that the PZU, the country's largest insurer, had been sold by the government for its own money. By now, people were completely disillusioned with their government, but they wondered how such a thing could even be possible, considering that the major investor had been - and was - a Dutch-Portuguese company from Holland. It turned out: a Polish bank had purchased a ten percent share in the PZU for the same amount of money that the PZU had previously deposited in the Polish bank. It was incredible. The worst part was that the Dutch-Portuguese company refused to renegotiate and the whole deal was brought before international arbitration. The Polish government was made to pay a billion dollars in damages. On top of all that was talk that the Dutch government had held Poland hostage by refusing to approve certain legislation in the European Parliament until the Dutch-Portuguese company in question had won the privatization deal.
"See, cousin," said Jesus, "what kind of people have come to rule this land. When you threatened SECURITA with exposure, not a single honest man came forward, despite the fact that knowledge of our existence had to reach the highest circles before our uniforms were granted. It was treason they had to hide - if not their own, then somebody else's. We're a state secret, cousin. You think we'll survive long on this planet? They want our heads. We're a liability - just like Leonard Cohen-Krupnik, the richest man in Poland - but not for long. Soon, his wealth will fall to his eldest son, Sacha. We cannot even contemplate the possible motives, but, for some reason, Hitler Panzer-Tank the Third has purchased the sudden death of his would-be son-in-law's father.
Stosowanie angielskiego odpowiednika na ktoś wSeks dla Dzieci
The bidding for Barbara started at twenty dollars. Some student in a red baseball cap went for twenty, and then Luke immediately bumped it up to twenty-five. I hit him in the ribs and told him to stay out of it until the time was right. He asked me when that would be and I had to snap back; if he didn't know I couldn't explain it to him. By the time I turned my attention back to the bidding, it was up to thirty-five dollars. As somebody called out forty, I told Luke that this was usually where the real war breaks out - not that I know anything about bidding, but things seemed to be going well; I was suddenly buoyed with false confidence. Somebody yelled out forty-five and I looked up at Babs and she was looking straight at me, smiling such a beautiful smile; I wish I could've sketched it. And then disaster struck.
I looked back at Barbara just in time to see her fallen face. Somebody yelled out sixty and somehow she was able to squeeze out a painful smile across her lovely visage. But her muscles were not able to hold it long: the beggar offered an astounding eighty dollars, and she, dropping the corners of her wretched smile, had to fix the most pathetic face I have ever seen: like a mask of death sprinkled with glitter, painted with bright and happy colors that, aesthetically speaking, did not reconcile her now pale skin, or the uneven lines of her twisted lip, or relieve the tension of her naked brow in that beautiful but wretched face of slowly sinking features, relaxing themselves as if they knew the touch of death, and welcomed fate, even though the mouth was still fixed in horror, quietly extending the poetic moment with its cautious gaping, barely unfurling its bottom lip, as if still unsure of its fate in that final moment: a quiet appeal for justice that did not fall on blinded eyes, even though mine were temporarily imprisoned by her beauty in that smoky dungeon.
She squeezed my hand. I said good night. She closed the door and I watched them for a moment. Then I told the driver where to go. It was a long cab ride. I realized I was wearing somebody else's tuxedo. I thought about my own suit. It was hanging in somebody else's closet. I was very tired - just like I am now. I realize I've been writing all day. I had to take this home with me from the hospital. But it's already past midnight. I should really go to bed. I will write some more tomorrow.
Somebody had written something in the margins - something in Hungarian. The writing was addressed to Albert but that was all I could understand. I had better luck reading the article: "Hungarian women are killing their men. What else could possibly explain the fact that Hungarian men die so young? No other country has such a disparity between the life expectancies of its men and women." I looked at the naked girl on the facing page. She was smiling devilishly, and for some reason she was sewing.
As you can imagine, recent events have been so disruptive that I've put all my other work on hiatus. I now have the freedom to apply my industry to subjects more conducive to my environment. And if I can do nothing to cure Albert of his illness, I might as well try to cure somebody.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 2, Poetics, Paragraph 1
"They'll sweep the air vents," she cried. "If they so much as find a whisker, you'll all be arrested in the middle of a game." The aliens tried to calm her down. She demanded to know where she could find Neal Channing. Somebody drew her a picture. It was a stick figure waist-deep in a pool of water. The alien said, "Shlup-pa."
"It's your schlong in somebody else's donut hole. That's what counts. I'm telling you. These girls are the best. AJ, BJ-you think it doesn't mean something to a guy who has to pay? Whoa. Here we are. Look at this. What a crowd. There's a lot of people here. Did you see that? Oh, boy!"
Stosowanie angielskiego odpowiednika na ktoś wPrzykra Pani Jackson
GREY GOOSE: Not to mention this island's penchant for making the most grotesque of assumptions - never mind that. I did a terrible thing in burning down that house: I know it. I've been paying for it ever since. I'm finally sorry for doing it. I don't think I could've said that this morning. Something's changed. I don't want to be like that anymore. I don't want to do those things. I think the Australians should mind their own business; that's neither here nor there. If you didn't squeal my name to the police, somebody else did. I'm going to find that person - not to burn down his house - to talk to him calmly and rationally: to put these absurd suspicions to rest. Everybody deserves to hear the truth, especially the people you love. I was kicked out not because of my reputation or the looks you were getting in town. It wasn't because you thought I killed that girl. It was because I hurt you. I hurt you a long time ago and I've always been too selfish to realize it. I expected you to understand - even though I never properly explained myself. It had nothing to do with you. You were perfect. I loved you. I was afraid of being a father. You know my childhood - or perceived lack thereof. I was insecure. I was scared to death. I panicked. I didn't talk to anybody about it because I was ashamed. I thought that, if you knew, you would despise me for it. You were always so strong and fearless. I envied you. When your family came and asked me what was going on, I lied. I acted as if I didn't care about you anymore: as if I had lost interest. Nothing could've been further from the truth. I was an idiot. I was such an idiot. I'm sorry for that. I'm so sorry for everything. I won't trouble you anymore. Even if you and your friend want to move in together, I won't trouble you. File divorce papers in the morning. You can keep the house - and the sofa bed - and the mattress - and the comforter - and the dishwasher. You can even keep the cook - and the boy.
– ACT II, line 356
FLETCHER: Trouble. The Tahitians were already upset. They hadn't been given any land when the island was divided, not to mention the fact that some of them were being beaten. Naturally, they started plotting. What they didn't take into account was the fact that To-ofa-iti, the blacksmith's new wife, was not complaining. The blacksmith was important. That made her important. She started singing a song, the words of which went, "Why does black man sharpen axe? To kill white man." When Fletcher Christian heard that song, he grabbed his musket, ran to the Tahitians, charged them with their crime, and pulled the trigger. The gun misfired. Two of the men ran; the rest protested their innocence. They begged for a chance to take care of it. They decided they should try to poison To-ofa-iti's husband. He didn't fall for it. He was too smart. Ultimately, one of the Tahitian men pulled a pistol on him in the presence of his wife. Again, the gun misfired. The two of them started grappling on the ground. Who knows who would've won? To-ofa-iti, however, was not about to take chances. She picked up the pistol with her own two hands and bopped her husband squarely on the head.
ALICE: She killed him?
FLETCHER: Eventually. Things were deceptively quiet for a few weeks. It didn't take long for judgment to fall upon the poor blacksmith. The Tahitians shot him down like a pig. Ironically, that's what the other mutineers thought they were doing. Being scattered all over the island, each man heard the shots and naturally assumed that somebody was hunting. Most of them found out too late that they were the prey.
ALICE: How many of them were killed?
FLETCHER: On that day, now known as Massacre Day, five of the original nine mutineers were fatally shot. Fletcher Christian was next. He was standing in his garden. Both of his hands were on his spade. He looked up at the sky and smiled. He never saw it coming. They shot him right through the heart.
ALICE: How did the others survive?
FLETCHER: Jackson was shot through the neck but he lived.
FLETCHER: It's a miracle. Ned Young slept through the whole thing. The women didn't want to wake him. They all liked him and they didn't want to see him get hurt, so they stood around his hut and guarded him. Eventually, though, even he had to get his hands dirty. The women wanted revenge on the Tahitians for killing their husbands. After Ned's consort chopped off the ringleader's head with an axe, he was made to go and shoot the last remaining rebel. That was the end of the bloodshed - not counting when he and Jackson got Quintal drunk and murdered him.
ALICE: It's so barbaric.
– ACT I, lines 616-625
ALICE: Did somebody die?
FLETCHER: Don't ask.
FLETCHER: Even if your husband had died?
ALICE: It would.
FLETCHER: I've been wanting to confess this for so long. The island makes it hard. Who would have understood me if I had spoken? My mother? I pay my penance every time I hear her cry. She has no idea what part I played in that fire. I can't help feeling that, if I had stopped it, this family would never have had the problems it's had. Nobody died in that fire except for me. It was my own soul burning. As far as the house is concerned, restitution's been made. As for me, who would not find my weakness and ignore it? for the sake of convenience if not for shame. Who would restore my strength from the ashes?
ALICE: Let it be me. I will restore you.
FLETCHER: This is why I've been pursuing you. I knew you'd never give in to me. I saw your strength the moment you arrived: its grace: its beauty. I fell in love with it. I desired it - not for myself, but for its ability to release me from this guilt.
ALICE: Let me release you, Fletcher Christian. I will make you whole again.
FLETCHER: You will forgive me my crime?
– ACT II, lines 184-193
LESBIAN: It's a tiny bug that invades trees and makes them grow abnormal clumps of tissue. It doesn't have to be a tree. I remember my mother's rose-hedge suffering from gall. I had absolutely no idea what it was. I thought it was some kind of strange flower. It started growing these round, fluffy balls of blood-red fiber. I thought it was gorgeous. It has its own name - a beautiful one. It's known as Robin's pincushion.
MS. JACKSON: Oh, Heavens! My pincushion: it's still missing. I'm sorry, Homo. I didn't mean to interrupt.
LESBIAN: It's not a problem.
MS. JACKSON: I don't understand. Who could've taken it?
LESBIAN: Somebody close to you.
MS. JACKSON: Who?
LESBIAN: More importantly, why?
MS. JACKSON: It's only a pincushion.
LESBIAN: I thought it was more than that.
MS. JACKSON: To my family - not to anybody else.
– ACT I, lines 505-514
MS. JACKSON: What in the name of Christ is going on?
KOKOMO: You didn't tell me we were doing it.
GREY GOOSE: He didn't tell me either.
FLETCHER: I thought you knew. I thought you started the whole thing.
GREY GOOSE: I made a mistake.
FLETCHER: I wasn't even informed about the dishwashing machine.
MS. JACKSON: Somebody please tell me what's going on!
Stosowanie angielskiego odpowiednika na ktoś w Miscellaneous Dingbats
Steve assembled his stove. He started cooking. He asked Peter if he was interested in some fried plantains. Peter said, "Sure, why not?" So much for sticking to the crackers. Steve realized he had left a saucepan in the car. We went up to get it. We realized there was a person camped in the back of the old sedan. It was definitely the woman from the sidewalk. The giant flip-flops looked like they were about to burst through the glass.
Indiana's unsolicited effort to inform, her continuous concern for speaking, that pressing aural nightmare which persists even after you've pledged to avoid its acoustical tyranny, that vocal plying, that musical stream of input once you've gotten used to it, that involuntary sickness betrayed something deliberately hushed, waiting in the dark, reaching for somebody's arm, whispering its presence as she punctuated her sentences, turning her head to stare vacantly past a shoulder for a moment to catch her breath, before turning once more to speak. It seemed like the panic of an animal who knows it's about to be eaten. It was tinged with a growing sense of resignation.
Orbitz typed. "Show me the log." A list of all actions aboard ship appeared. Orbitz immediately saw the problem. Between his last depature and return the log had recorded three authorized entries. Somebody was on board. Orbitz typed, "Who came onto the ship?"
Marriott took an even longer moment to respond. "You did," she wrote. Something was wrong.
Steve saved me. He finally found a guy named Dave who was willing to procure some supplement. All Steve had to do was give Dave money and he would walk down to the street to pick it up. He told Steve to wait on the patio otherwise the deal might not go down. Dave left with Steve's money. He never came back. The bar girl had some information. She told us Dave worked for the guy who owned the bar. He helped him fix roofs. She wasn't surprised we were looking for him. She didn't know where he went. I asked if Dave carried any weapons. The girl claimed not to know anything and then shut up.
Tabela kolokacji dla angielskiego odpowiednika na "Ktoś."
Ta tabela zawiera listę w kolejności malejącej częstotliwości wyboru ciągów tekstowych, które pojawiają się w Korpusie i grupuje je według derywacji morfologicznej angielskiego odpowiednika na ktoś który jest obecny.
Całkowita liczba wystąpień
Jeszcze nie wykonałem dla kobiet analizę kolokacji angielskiego odpowiednika na "ktoś." Mam nadzieję, że będę mógł to zrobić za niedługo. -Michał
Miłość jest rozwiązaniem...
Na co czekamy? Trzeba to przejąć!
Czyś ty rzezaniec?
Pokaz sztuki który przeciwstawia się nadużyciom
Martwa natura, Patriarchat
Ojciec mówi, że ojciec wie najlepiej
Na celu promowania demokracji, silny musi opróżnić się jego siły. Słaby musi być przyznany szansę na rozwój siły. Nie możemy wymusić koniec patriarchatu. Takie postępowanie po prostu utrwala feudalizm pod inną nazwą.