Translation of "Ficelles" in English

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Examples of using "Ficelles" in a sentence and their english translations:

Il m'a appris les ficelles.

He showed me the ropes.

Je sais qui tire les ficelles.

I know who's pulling the strings.

- Elle lui a enseigné les ficelles du métier.
- Elle lui enseigna les ficelles du métier.

She taught him the tricks of the trade.

Elle lui enseigna les ficelles du métier.

She taught him the tricks of the trade.

Thomas connaît toutes les ficelles du métier.

Thomas knows all the tricks of the trade.

Zuma, en plus de mettre un terme à la supervision de l'éducation, il a tiré tant de ficelles

Zuma, besides putting an end to education supervision, he has pulled so many strings

- Je ne suis pas né de la dernière pluie.
- Je connais les ficelles.
- On ne me la fait pas.
- Je suis affranchi.

I know the ropes.

Tu peux aller chercher du pain à la boulangerie, deux petites et une grosse, s'il te plait ? Et s'ils n'en ont plus, tu peux prendre quatre ficelles à la place.

Could you please go buy bread at the baker's, two small ones and a large one please? And if they ran out, you can buy four thin baguettes instead.

Il n'y a pas, à ce stade de l'histoire mondiale aux États-Unis d'Amérique, de chose telle qu'une presse indépendante. Vous le savez et je le sais. Il n'y a pas un de vous qui ose écrire ses franches opinions, et si vous le faisiez, vous savez d'avance qu'elles ne seraient jamais publiées. Je suis hebdomadairement payé pour tenir mes franches opinions à distance du journal auquel je suis lié. D'autres d'entre vous reçoivent de mêmes émoluments pour des choses similaires, et n'importe lequel d'entre vous qui serait assez bête pour écrire de franches opinions serait à la rue à chercher un autre emploi. Si je laissais mes franches opinions être publiées dans l'une des parutions de mes journaux, mon emploi s'évaporerait avant vingt-quatre heures. Le boulot du journaliste est de détruire la vérité, de mentir effrontément, de pervertir, de diaboliser, de lécher les pieds de Mammon et de vendre son pays et sa race pour gagner son pain quotidien. Vous le savez et je le sais, et quelle folie est cette célébration d'une presse indépendante ? Nous sommes des pantins, ils tirent les ficelles et nous dansons. Nos talents, nos possibilités et nos vies sont tous la propriété d'autres hommes. Nous sommes des prostitués intellectuels.

- 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.