Examples of using "يكتب" in a sentence and their english translations:
Tom is writing a letter.
He writes Arabic.
Tom is writing a letter.
- She writes with her left hand.
- Write with your left hand.
He tried writing a short story.
and you write answers.
He's writing a long letter.
Is Jimmy writing a letter?
writes words, says words,
Sami wrote poetry.
Nothing is written on the helicopter.
Sami reads and writes a lot.
Mennad wrote anonymously.
He seldom writes to his parents.
Audrey writes stories and they love writing.
Takeshi keeps a diary in English.
He seldom writes to his parents.
Mezian is writing a sentence on the whiteboard.
kids like me just wrote where there was empty space available.
Tom is in his room, writing a letter to his grandmother.
Fadil was busy texting.
She writes the melodies and he writes the lyrics.
He writes to his mother every now and then.
No one I know writes letters anymore.
He loves writing articles for Wikipedia.
Sami is writing a book about money-making.
Like there was this architect who was writing songs.
He is writing on the blackboard, "Ali, look at the horse."
My son had been writing for several hours when I entered the room.
When somebody called and wrote, I responded personally.
Sami is writing a book about money-making.
- There is no such thing, at this stage of the world’s history in America, as an independent press. You know it and I know it. There is not one of you who dare write your honest opinions, and if you did, you know beforehand that it would never appear in print. I am paid weekly for keeping my honest opinions out of the paper I am connected with. Others of you are paid similar salaries for similar things, and any of you who would be foolish as to write honest opinions would be out on the streets looking for another job. If I allowed my honest opinions to appear in one issue of my papers, before twenty-four hours my occupation would be gone. The business of the journalist is to destroy the truth, to lie outright, to pervert, to vilify, to fawn at the feet of Mammon, and to sell his country and his race for his daily bread. You know it and I know it, and what folly is this toasting an independent press? We are the jumping jacks, they pull the strings and we dance. Our talents, our possibilities and our lives are all the property of other men. We are intellectual prostitutes.
- There is no such thing, at this stage of the world’s history in the United States, as an independent press. You know it and I know it. There is not one of you who dare write your honest opinions, and if you did, you know beforehand that it would never appear in print. I am paid weekly for keeping my honest opinions out of the paper I am connected with. Others of you are paid similar salaries for similar things, and any of you who would be foolish as to write honest opinions would be out on the streets looking for another job. If I allowed my honest opinions to appear in one issue of my papers, before twenty-four hours my occupation would be gone. The business of the journalist is to destroy the truth, to lie outright, to pervert, to vilify, to fawn at the feet of Mammon, and to sell his country and his race for his daily bread. You know it and I know it, and what folly is this toasting an independent press? We are the jumping jacks, they pull the strings and we dance. Our talents, our possibilities and our lives are all the property of other men. We are intellectual prostitutes.
- There is no such thing, at this stage of the world’s history in The United States of America, as an independent press. You know it and I know it. There is not one of you who dare write your honest opinions, and if you did, you know beforehand that it would never appear in print. I am paid weekly for keeping my honest opinions out of the paper I am connected with. Others of you are paid similar salaries for similar things, and any of you who would be foolish as to write honest opinions would be out on the streets looking for another job. If I allowed my honest opinions to appear in one issue of my papers, before twenty-four hours my occupation would be gone. The business of the journalist is to destroy the truth, to lie outright, to pervert, to vilify, to fawn at the feet of Mammon, and to sell his country and his race for his daily bread. You know it and I know it, and what folly is this toasting an independent press? We are the jumping jacks, they pull the strings and we dance. Our talents, our possibilities and our lives are all the property of other men. We are intellectual prostitutes.