大学英语教材课文听力原文

现代大学英语精读4第二版U n i t5A F o r W a n t o f a D r i n k课文原文-CAL-FENGHAI.-(YICAI)-Company One1For Want of a Drink1.When the word water appears in print nowadays, crisis is rarely far behind. Water, it is said, is the new oil: a resource long squandered, now growing expensive and soon to be overwhelmed by insatiable demand. Aquifers are falling, glaciers vanishing, reservoirs drying up and rivers no longer flowing to the sea. Climate change threatens to make the problem worse. Everyone must use less water if famine, pestilence and mass migration are not to sweep the globe.2.The language is often overblown, and the remedies sometimes ill-conceived, but the basic message is not wrong. Water is indeed scarce in many places, and will grow scarcer. Bringing supply and demand into equilibrium will be painful, and political disputes may increase in number and intensify in their capacity to cause trouble. To carry on with present practice would indeed be to invite disaster.3.WhyThe difficulties start with the sheer number of people using the stuff. When, 60 years ago, the world's population was about 2.5 billion, worries about water supply affected relatively few people. Both drought and hunger existed, as they have throughout history, but most people could be fed without irrigated farming. Then the green revolution,in an inspired combination of new crop breeds, fertilizers and water, made possible a huge rise in the population. The number of people on Earth rose to 6 billion in 2000, nearly 7 billion today, and is heading for 9 billion in 2050. The area under irrigation has doubled and the amount of water drawn for farming has tripled. The proportion of people living in countries chronically short of water is set to rise from 8% at the turn of the 21st century to 45% by 2050.4.Farmers' increasing demand for water is caused not only by the growing number of mouths to be fed but also by people's desire for better-tasting, more interesting food. Unfortunately, it takes nearly twice as much water to grow a kilo of peanuts as a kilo of soybeans, nearly four times as much water to produce a kilo of beef as a kilo of chicken. With 2 billion people around the world about to enter the middle class, the agricultural demands on water would increase even if the population stood still.5.Industry, too, needs water. It takes about 22% of the world's withdrawals. Domestic activities take the other 8%. Together, the demands of these two categories quadrupled in the second half of the 20th century, growing twice as fast as those of farming.6.Meeting that demand is a difficult task. One reason is that the supply of water is finite. The world will have no more of it in 2025 or 2050 than it has today, or when it lapped at the sides of Noah's Ark. This is because the law of conservation of mass says, broadly, that however you use it, you cannot destroy the stuff. Neither can you readily make it. If some of it seems to come from the skies, that is because it has evaporated from the Earth's surface, condensed and returned.7.Most of this surface is sea, and the water below it—over 97% of the total on Earth—is salty. In principle, the salt can be removed to increase the supply of fresh water, but at present desalination is expensive and uses lots of energy.8.Of the 2.5% of water that is not salty, about 70% is frozen, either at the poles, in glaciers or in permafrost. So all living things, except those in the sea, have about 0.75% of the total to survive on. Most of this available water is underground, in aquifers or similar formations. The rest is falling as rain, sitting in lakes and reservoirs or flowing in rivers where it is, with luck, replaced by rainfall and melting snow and ice. There is also, take note, water vapor in the atmosphere.9.The value of water as a commodity of course varies according to locality, purpose and circumstance. Take locality first. Water is not evenly distributed—just nine countries account for 60% of all available fresh supplies—and among them only Brazil, Canada, Colombia, Congo, Indonesia and Russia have an abundance. America is relatively well off, but China and India, with over a third of the world's population between them, have less than 10% of its water.10.Even within countries the variations may be huge. The average annual rainfall in India's northeast is 110 times that in its western desert. And many places have plenty of water, or even far too much. Flooding is routine, and may become more frequent and damaging with climate change.11.Scarce or plentiful, water is above all local. It is heavy—one cubic water weighs a tonne—, so expensive to move. Surface water—mostly rivers, lakes and reservoirs—will not flow from one basin into another without artificial diversion, and usually only with pumping. Within a basin, the water upstream may be useful for irrigation, industrial or domestic use. As it nears the sea, though, the opportunities diminish to the point where it has no uses except to sustain deltas, wetlands and to carry silt out to sea.12.These should not be overlooked. If rivers do not flow, nothing can live in them. Over a fifth of the world's freshwater fish species of a century ago are now endangered or extinct. Half the world's wetlands have also disappeared over the past 200 years. The point is, though, that even within a basin water is more valuable in some places than in others.13.Almost anywhere arid, the water underground, once largely ignored, has come to be seen as especially valuable as the demands of farmers have outgrown their supplies of rain and surface water. Groundwater has come to the rescue, and for a while it seemed a miraculous solution: drill a borehole, pump the stuff up from below and in due course it will be replaced. In many places, however, from the United States to India and China, the quantities being withdrawn exceed the annual recharge. This is serious for millions of people not just in the country but also in many of the world's biggest cities, which often depend on aquifers for their drinking water.14.The 20 million inhabitants of Mexico City and its surrounding area, for example, draw over 70% of their water from an aquifer that will run dry within 200 years, maybe sooner.Already the city is sinking as a result. In the Hai river basin in China, deep-groundwater tables have dropped by up to 90 meters.15.Part of the beauty of the borehole is that it requires no elaborate apparatus. A single farmer may be able to sink his own tube well and start pumping. That is why India and China are now perforated with millions of irrigation wells, each drawing on the common resource. Sometimes this resource may be huge. But even big aquifers are not immune to the laws of physics. Many places are seriously overdrawn. In those places, farmers probably have to pay something for the right to draw groundwater. But almost nowhere will the price reflect scarcity, and often there is no charge at all and no one measures how much water is being taken.16.Priced or not, water is certainly valued, and that value depends on the use to which it is harnessed. Water is used not just to grow food but to make every kind of product, from microchips to steel girders. The largest industrial purpose to which it is put is cooling in thermal power generation, but it is also used in drilling for and extracting oil, the making of petroleum products and ethanol, and the production of hydroelectricity. Some of the processes involved, such as hydro power generation, consume little water(after driving the turbines, most is returned to the river), but some, such as the techniques used to extract oil from sands, are big consumers.17.Industrial use takes about 60% of water in rich countries and 10% in the rest. The difference in domestic use is much smaller, 11% and 8% respectively. Some of the variation is explained by capacious baths, power showers and flush lavatories in the rich world. All humans, however, need a basic minimum of two litres of water in food or drink each day, and for this there is no substitute. No one survived in the ruins of Port-au-Prince for more than a few days after January's earthquake unless they had access to some water-based food or drink. That is why many people in poor and arid countries—usually women or children—set off early each morning to trudge to the nearest well and return five or six hours later burdened with precious supplies. That is why many people believe water to be a human right, a necessity more basic than bread or a roof over the head.18.From this much follows. One consequence is a widespread belief that no one should have to pay for water. The Byzantine emperor Justinian declared in the 6th century that "by natural law" air, running water, the sea and seashore were "common to all." Many Indians agree, seeing groundwater in particular as a "democratic resource." In Africa it is said that "even the jackal deserves to drink."19.A second consequence is that water often has a sacred or mystical quality that is invested in deities like Gong Gong and Osiris and rivers like the Jordan and the Ganges. Throughout history, man's dependence on water has made him live near it or organize access to it. Water is in his body and in his soul. It has provided not just life and food but a means of transport, a way of keeping clean, a mechanism for removing sewage, a home for fish and other animals, a medium with which to skate and sail, a thing of beauty to provideinspiration, to gaze upon and to enjoy. No wonder a commodity with so many qualities, uses and associations has proved so difficult to organize.。

大学英语教材课文原文Unit 1Text 1Section 1A New Semester BeginsThe bell on the first day of the new semester rang, bringing excitement and anticipation to the students of the English Department. As they gathered in the classroom, the teacher, Ms. Johnson, welcomed everyone with a warm smile.Section 2Introductions and ExpectationsMs. Johnson introduced herself and encouraged each student to introduce themselves one by one. It was a diverse group, with students coming from different cities and backgrounds. They shared their expectations for the semester, expressing their desire to improve their English skills and broaden their cultural knowledge.Section 3Exploring the TextbookNext, Ms. Johnson distributed the new edition of the English textbook. The students eagerly flipped through the pages, taking note of the interesting topics and engaging exercises. Ms. Johnson emphasized the importance of regular self-study and assigned the first chapter as homework.Section 4Reading and Comprehension ExercisesThe following week, the students began their journey into the first unit of the textbook. They read the text carefully, underlining unfamiliar words and discussing the main ideas. Ms. Johnson guided them through comprehension exercises, ensuring they understood the context and nuances of the reading.Section 5Group ActivitiesTo encourage active participation, Ms. Johnson organized group activities. The students worked in pairs or small groups, discussing the text and exchanging ideas. Through these activities, they not only improved their language skills but also developed teamwork and communication abilities.Section 6Writing AssignmentsWriting assignments were an integral part of the course. The students were given topics related to the text they had read, and they had to write essays expressing their thoughts and opinions. Ms. Johnson provided constructive feedback and encouraged them to revise their work for better clarity and coherence.Section 7Speaking and Presentation SkillsIn addition to writing, speaking and presentation skills were emphasized in the English Department. The students had opportunities to give presentations on various topics, ranging from personal experiences to global issues. Peer evaluations and constructive criticism helped them refine their public speaking abilities.Section 8Final AssessmentAs the end of the semester approached, the students prepared for the final assessment. It consisted of a comprehensive exam, covering all the units they had studied. They reviewed the textbook, practiced writing essays, and participated in mock speaking tests to build confidence and consolidate their learning.Section 9Reflections and FarewellOn the last day of the semester, the students gathered once again in the classroom. Ms. Johnson reflected on their progress and growth throughout the semester, expressing her pride in their achievements. She wished them success in their future endeavors and reminded them to continue pursuing their English language skills beyond the classroom.In conclusion, the English Department's new semester brought students on a journey of language learning and personal growth. Through engaging activities, comprehensive assessments, and supportive mentoring, the students were able to improve their English skills and develop as individuals. As they said goodbye to Ms. Johnson and their classmates, they carried withthem the knowledge and experiences gained from the course, ready to face new challenges in their academic and professional lives.。

We all listen to music according to our separate , for the sake of analysis, the whole listening process may become clearer if we break it up into its component parts, so to certain sense we all listen to music on three separate lack of a better terminology, one might name these: 1) the sensuous plane, 2) the expressive plane, 3) the sheerly musical only advantage to be gained from mechanically splitting up the listening process into these hypothetical planes is the clearer view to be had of the way in which we listen.The simplest way of listening to music is to listen for the sheer pleasure of the musical sound is the sensuous is the plane on which we hear music without thinking, without considering it in any turns on the radio while doing something else andabsent-mindedly bathes in the kind of brainless but attractive state of mind is engendered by the mere sound appeal of the music.The surprising thing is that many people who consider themselves qualified music lovers abuse that plane in go to concerts in order to lose use music as a consolation or an enter an ideal world where one doesn’t have to think of the realities of everyday course they aren’t thinking about the music allows them to leave it, and they go off to a place to dream, dreaming because of and apropos of the music yet never quite listening to it.Yes, the sound appeal of music is a potent and primitive force, but you must not allow it to usurp a disproportionate share of your sensuous plane is an important one in music, a very important one, but it does not constitute the whole story.The second plane on which music exists is what I have called the expressive , immediately, we tread on controversial have a way of shying away from any discussion of music’s expressive not Stravinsky himself proclaim that his music was an “object”, a “thing”, with a life of its own, and with no other meaning than its own purely musical existenceThis intransigent attitude of Stravinsky’s may be due to the fact that so many people have tried to read different meanings into so many knows it is difficult enough to say precisely what it is that a piece of music means, to say it definitely to say it finally so that everyone is satisfied with your that should not lead one to the other extreme of denying to music the right to be “expressive”.Listen, if you can,to the 48 fugue themes of Bach’s Well-tempered to each theme, one after will soon realize that each theme mirrors a different world of will also soon realize that the more beautiful a theme seems to you the harder it is to find any word that will describe it to your complete , you will certainly know whether it is a gay theme or a sad will be able, on other words, in your own mind, to draw a frame of emotional feeling around your study the sad one a little closer.Try to pin down the exact quality of its it pessimistically sad or resignedly sad; is it fatefully sad or smilingly sadLet us suppose that you are fortunate and can describe to your own satisfaction in so many words the exact meaning of your chosen is still no guarantee that anyone else will be need they important thing is that each one feels for himself the specific expressive quality of a theme or, similarly, an entire piece of if it is a great work of art, don’t expect it to mean exactly the same thing to you each time you return to it.The third plane on which music exists is the sheerly musical the pleasurable sound of music and the expressive feeling that it gives off, music does exist in terms of the notes themselves and of their listeners are not sufficiently conscious of this third plane.It is very important for all of us to become more alive to music on its sheerly musical all, an actual musical material is being intelligent listener must be prepared to increase his awareness of the musical material and what happens to must hear the melodies, the rhythms, the harmonies, the tone colors in a more conscious above all he must, in order to follow the line of the composer’s thought, know something of the principles of musical to all of these elements is listening to the sheerly musical plane.Let me repeat that I have split up mechanically the three separate planes on which we listen merely for the sake of greater clarity. Actually, we never listen on one or the other of these we do is to correlate them—listening in all three ways at the same takes no mental effort, for we do it instinctivelyPerhaps an analogy with what happens to us when we visit the theater will make this instinctive correlation the theater, you are aware of the actors and actresses, costumes and sets, sounds and these give one the sense that the theater is a pleasant place to be constitute the sensuous plane in our theatrical reactions.The expressive plane in the theater would be derived from the feeling that you get from what is happening on the are moved to pity, excitement, or is this general feeling, generated aside from the particular words being spoken, a certain emotional something which exists on the stage,that isanalogous to the expressive quality in music.The plot and plot development is equivalent to our sheerly musical playwright creates and develops a character in just the same way that a composer creates and develops a to the degree of your awareness of the way in which the artist in either field handles his material will you become a more intelligent is easy enough to see that the theatergoer never is conscious of any of these elements is aware of them all at the same same is true of music simultaneously and without thinking listen on all three planes.It is not surprising that modern children tend to look blank and dispirited when info rmed that they will someday have to “go to work andmake a living”. The problem is that they cannot visualize what work is in corporate Americ a.Not so long ago, when a parent said he was off to work, the child knew very well what was about to happen. His parent was going to make something or fix something. The parent could take his offspring to his place of business and let him watch while he repai red a buggy or built a table.When a child asked, “What kind of work do you do, Daddy” his father could answer in terms that a child could come to grips with, such as “I fix steam engines” or “I make hor se collars.Well, a few fathers still fix steam engines and build tables, but most do not. Nowad ays, most fathers sit in glass buildings doing things that are absolutely incomprehensible t o children. The answers they give when asked, “What kind of work do you do, Daddy” are likely to be utterlymystifying to a child.”I sell space””I do market research.”,”I am a data processor.””I am in public relation s.””I am a systems analyst” Suchexplanations must seem nonsense to a child. How can he possibly envision anyone analyzi ng a system or researching a marketEven grown men who do market research have trouble visualizing what a public rel ations man does with his day, and it is a safe bet that the average systems analyst is as baf fled about what a space salesman does at the shop as the average space salesman is about the tools needed to analyze a system.In the common everyday job, nothing is made any more. Things are now made by machines. Very little is repaired. The machines that makethings make them in such a fashion that they will quickly fall apart in such a way that repai rs will be prohibitively expensive. Thus the buyer isencouraged to throw the thing away and buy a new one. In effect, the machines are makin g handful of people remotely associated withthese machines can, of course, tell their inquisitive children “Daddy makes junk”. Most of t he workforce, however, is too remote from junkproduction to sense any contribution to the industry. What do these people do Consider the typical 12-story glass building in the typical American city. Nothing is b eing made in this building and nothing is being repaired, including the building itself. Cons tructed as a piece of junk, the building will be discarded when it wears out, and another pi ece of junk will be set in its place.Still, the building is filled with people who think of themselves as working. At any given moment during the day perhaps one-third of them will be talking into telephones. Most of these conversations will be about paper, for paper is what occupies nearly every one in this building. Somejobs in the building require men to fill paper with words. There are persons who type ne atly on paper and persons who read paper and jot notes in the margins. Some persons m ake copies of paper and other persons deliver paper. There are persons who file paper a nd persons who unfile paper.Some persons mail paper. Some persons telephone other persons and ask that pa per be sent to them. Others telephone to ascertain thewhereabouts of paper. Some persons confer about paper. In the grandest offices, men a pprove of some paper and disapprove of other paper.The elevators are filled throughout the day with young men carrying paper from fl oor to floor and with vital men carrying paper to bediscussed with other vital men.What is a child to make of all this His father may be so eminent that he lunches wi th other men about paper. Suppose he brings his son towork to give the boy some idea of what work is all about. What does the boy see happ eningHis father calls for paper. He reads paper. Perhaps he scowls at paper. Perhaps he makes an angry red mark on paper. He telephones another man and says they had bette r lunch over paper.At lunch they talk about paper. Back at the office, the father orders the paper rety ped and reproduced in quintuplicate, and then sent toanother man for comparison with paper that was reproduced in triplicate last year.Imagine his poor son afterwards mulling over the mysteries of work with a friend, who asks him, ”What’s your father do” What can the boy reply “It beats me,” perhaps, if he is not very observant. Or if he is, “Something that has to do with making junk, I think . Same as everybodyelse.”It was snowing heavily, and although every true New Yorker looks forward to a white Christmas, the shoppers on Fifth Avenue were in a hurry, not just to track down the last-minute presents, but to escape the bitter cold and get home with their families for Christmas Eve.Josh Lester turned into 46th Street. He was not yet enjoying the Christmas spirit, because he was still at work, albeit a working dinner at Joanne's. Josh was black, in his early thirties, and an agreeable-looking person, dressed smartly but not expensively. He was from a hard-working family in upstate Virginia, and was probably happiest back home in his parents' house. But his demeanor concealed a Harvard law degree and an internship in DC with a congressman, a junior partnership in a New York law firm, along with a razor-sharp intellect and an ability to think on his feet. Josh was very smart.The appointment meant Josh wouldn't get home until after Christmas. He was not, however, unhappy. He was meeting Jo Rogers, the senior senator for Connecticut, and one of the best-known faces in the US. Senator Rogers was a Democrat in her third term of office, who knew Capitol Hill inside out but who had nevertheless managed to keep her credibility with her voters as a Washington outsider. She was pro-abortion,anti-corruption, pro-low carbon emissions and anti-capital punishment, as fine a progressive liberal as you could find this side of the Atlantic. Talk show hosts called her Honest Senator Jo, and a couple of years ago, Time magazine had her in the running for Woman of the Year. It was election time in the following year, and the word was she was going to run for the Democratic nomination. Rogers had met Josh in DC, thought him highly competent, and had invited him to dinner.Josh shivered as he checked the address on the slip of paper in his hand. He'd never been to Joanne's, but knew it by reputation, not because of its food, which had often been maligned, or its jazz orchestra, which had a guest slot for a well-known movie director who played trumpet, but because of the stellar quality of its sophisticated guests: politicians, diplomats, movie actors, hall-of-fame athletes, journalists, writers, rock stars and Nobel Prize winners – in short, anyone who was anyone in this city of power brokers.Josh told him, and although the waiter refrained from curling his lip, he managed to show both disdain and effortless superiority with a simple flaring of his nostrils.“Yes, Senator, please come this way,” and as Senator Rogers passed through the crowded room, heads turned as the diners recognized her and greeted her with silent applause. In a classless society, Rogers was the closest thing to aristocracy that America had. Alberto hovered for a moment, then went to speak to a colleague.After two hours, Rogers and Josh got up to leave. There was a further flurry of attention by the staff, including an offer by Alberto to waive payment of the bill, which Rogers refused. As they were putting on their coats, Rogers said, “Thank you, Alberto. Oh, have I introduced you to my companion, Josh Lester”A look of panic, followed by one of desperate optimism flashed across Alberto's face.“Ah, not yet, no, ... not properly, ” he said weakly.“Josh Lester. This is the latest recruit to my election campaign. He's going to be my new deputy campaign manager, in charge of raising donations. And if we get that Republican out of the White House next year, you've just met my Chief of Staff.”It came as if from nowhere.There were about two dozen of us by the bank of elevators on the 35th floor of the north tower of the World Trade Center. We were firefighters, mostly, and we were in various stages of exhaustion. Some guys were sweating like pigs. Some had their turnout coats off, or tied around their waists. Quite a few were breathing heavily. Others were raring to go. All of us were taking a beat to catch our breaths, and our bearings, figure out what the hell was going on. We'd been at this thing, hard, for almost an hour, somea little bit less, and we were nowhere close to done. Of course, we had no idea what there was left to do, but we hadn't made a dent.And then the noise started, and the building began to tremble, and we all froze. Dead solid still. Whatever there had been left to do would now have to wait. For what, we had no idea, but it would wait. Or, it wouldn't, but that wasn't the point. The point was that no one was moving. To a man, no one moved, except to lift his eyes to the ceiling, to see where the racket was coming from. As if we could see clear through the ceiling tiles for an easy answer. No one spoke. There wasn't time to turn thought into words, even though there was time to think. For me anyway, there was time to think, too much time to think, and my thoughts were all over the place. Every possible worst-case scenario, and a few more besides. The building was shaking like in an earthquake, like an amusement park thrill ride gone berserk, but it was the rumble that struck me still with fear. The sheer volume of it. The way it coursed right through me. I couldn't think what the hell would make a noise like that. Like a thousand runaway trains speeding towards me. Like a herd of wild beasts. Like the thunder of a rockslide. Hard to put it into words, but whatever the hell it was it was gaining speed, and gathering force, and getting closer, and I was stuck in the middle, unable to get out of its path.It's amazing, the kind of thing you think about when there should be no time to think. I thought about my wife and my kids, but only fleetingly and not in any kind oflife-flashing-before-my-eyes sort of way. I thought about the job, how close I was to making deputy. I thought about the bagels I had left on the kitchen counter back at the firehouse. I thought how we firemen were always saying to each other, "I'll see you at the big one." Or, "We'll all meet at the big one." I never knew how it started, or when I'd picked up on it myself, but it was part of our , no matter how big this fire is, there'll be another one bigger, somewhere down the road. We'll make it through this one, and we'll make it through that one, too. I always said it, at big fires, and I always heard it back, and here I was, thinking I would never say or hear these words again, because there would never be another fire as big as this. This was the big one we had all talked about, all our lives, and if I hadn't known this before – just before these chilling moments – this sick, black noise now confirmed it.I fumbled for some fix on the situation, thinking maybe if I understood what was happening I could steel myself against it. All of these thoughts were landing in my brain in a kind of flashpoint, one on top of the other and all at once, but there they were. And each thought landed fully formed, as if there might be time to act on each, when in truth there was no time at all.Richard Picciotto (also known as Pitch) was in the north tower of the World Trade Center when it collapsed in theaftermath of the massive terrorist attack on 11 September 2001. A battalion commander for the New York Fire Department, he was on the scene of the disaster within minutes of the attack, to lead seven companies of firefighters into the tower to help people trapped and to extinguish fires blazing everywhere.The north tower was the first of the twin towers to be hit. It was followed 17 minutes later by the south tower. The south tower, however, was the first to collapse, at 9:59 am. At that moment, Picciotto was in the north tower, racing upwards by the stairs because the elevators were out of action. He then gave the order to evacuate. On the 12th story he came across 50 people amid the debris, too badly hurt or frightened to move. Picciotto and his men helped them down. When he reached the seventh floor, the tower fell, and he was buried beneath thousands of tons of rubble. He eventually came round four hours later, leading his men to safety.Picciotto was the highest ranking firefighter to survive the attack. The chief of the department, the first deputy and the chief of rescue operations had all been killed. Altogether the death toll included 343 firefighters and more than 3,000 civilians.Toast always lands butter side down. It always rains on bank holidays. You never win the lottery, but other people you know seem to ... Do you ever get the impression that you were born unlucky Even the most rational person can be convinced at times that there is a force out there making mishaps occur at the worst possible time. We all like to believe that Murphy's Law is true。

21世纪大学英语读写教程（第四册）Unit1课文原文《Who Is Great?》Michal Ryan As a young boy, Albert Einstein did so poorly in school that teachers thought he was slow. The young Napoleon Bonaparte was just one of hundreds of artillery lieutenants in the French Army. And the teenage George Washington, with little formal education, was being trained not as a soldier but as a land surveyor.Despite their unspectacular beginnings, each would go on to carve a place for himself in history. What was it that enabled them to become great? Were they born with something special? Or did their greatness have more to do with timing, devotion and, perhaps, an uncompromising personality?For decades, scientists have been asking such questions. And, in the past few years, they have found evidence to help explain why some people rise above, while others—similarly talented, perhaps—are left behind. Their findings could have implications for us all.Who is great? Defining who is great depends on how one measures success. But there are some criteria. "Someone who has made a lasting contribution to human civilization is great," said Dean Keith Simonton, a professor of psychology at the University of California at Davis and author of the 1994 book Greatness: Who Makes History and Why. But he added a word of caution: "Sometimes great people don't make it into the history books. A lot of women achieved great things or were influential but went unrecognized."In writing his book, Simonton combined historical knowledge about great figures with recent findings in genetics, psychiatry and the social sciences. The great figures he focused on include men and women who have won Nobel Prizes, led great nations or won wars, composed symphonies that have endured for centuries, or revolutionized science, philosophy, politics or the arts. Though he doesn't have a formula to define how or why certain people rise above (too many factors are involved), he has come up with a few common characteristics.A "never surrender" attitude. If great achievers share anything, said Simonton, it is an unrelenting drive to succeed. "There's a tendency to think that they are endowed with something super-normal," he explained. "But what comes out of the research is that there are great people who have no amazing intellectual processes. It's a difference in degree. Greatness is built upon tremendous amounts of study, practice and devotion."He cited Winston Churchill, Britain's prime minister during World War II, as an example of a risk-taker who would never give up. Thrust into office when his country's morale was at its lowest, Churchill rose brilliantly to lead the British people. In a speech following the Allied evacuation at Dunkirk in 1940, he inspired the nation when he said, "We shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end...We shall never surrender."Can you be born great? In looking at Churchill's role in history—as well as the roles of other political and military leaders—Simonton discovered a striking pattern: "Firstborns and only children tend to make good leaders in time of crisis: They're used to taking charge. But middle-borns are better as peacetime leaders: They listen to different interest groups better and make the necessary compromises. Churchill, an only child, was typical. He was great in a crisis, but in peacetime he was not effective—not even popular."Timing is another factor. "If you took George Washington and put him in the 20th century he would go nowhere as a politician," Simonton declared. "He was not an effective public speaker, and he didn't like shaking hands with the public. On the other hand, I'm not sure Franklin Roosevelt would have done well in Washington's time. He wouldn't have had the radio to do his fireside chats."Can you be too smart? One surprise among Simonton's findings is that many political and military leaders have been bright but not overly so. Beyond a certain point, he explained, other factors, like the ability to communicate effectively, become more important than innate intelligence as measured by an IQ test. The most intelligent U.S. Presidents, for example—Thomas Jefferson, Woodrow Wilson and John F. Kennedy—had a hard time getting elected, Simonton said, while others with IQs closer to the average (such as Warren G. Harding) won by landslides. While political and economic factors also are involved, having a genius IQ is not necessary to be a great leader.In the sciences, those with "genius level" IQs do have a better chance at achieving recognition, added Simonton. Yet evidence also indicates that overcoming traditional ways of thinking may be just as important.He pointed to one recent study where college students were given a set of data and were asked to see if they could come up with a mathematical relation. Almost a third did. What they did not know was that they had just solved one of the most famous scientific equations in history: the Third Law of Planetary Motion, an equation that Johannes Kepler came up with in 1618.Kepler's genius, Simonton said, was not so much in solving a mathematical challenge. It was in thinking about the numbers in a unique way—applying his mathematical knowledge to his observations of planetary motion. It was his boldness that set him apart.Love your work. As a child, Einstein became fascinated with the way magnets are drawn to metal. "He couldn't stop thinking about this stuff," Simonton pointed out. "He became obsessed with problems in physics by the time he was 16, and he never stopped working on them. It's not surprising that he made major contributions by the time he was 26.""For most of us, it's not that we don't have the ability," Simonton added, "it's that we don't devote the time. You have to put in the effort and put up with all the frustrations and obstacles."Like other creative geniuses, Einstein was not motivated by a desire for fame, said Simonton. Instead, his obsession with his work was what set him apart.Where such drive comes from remains a mystery. But it is found in nearly allcreative geniuses—whether or not their genius is acknowledged by contemporaries."Emily Dickinson was not recognized for her poetry until after her death," said Simonton. "But she was not writing for fame. The same can be said of James Joyce, who didn't spend a lot of time worrying about how many people would read Finnegans Wake."Today, researchers have evidence that an intrinsic passion for one's work is a key to rising above. In a 1985 study at Brandeis University conducted by Teresa Amabile, now a professor of business administration at Harvard University, a group of professional writers—none famous—were asked to write a short poem. Each writer was then randomly placed in one of three groups: One group was asked to keep in mind the idea of writing for money; another was told to think about writing just for pleasure; and a third group was given no instruction at all.The poems then were submitted anonymously to a panel of professional writers for evaluation. The poetry written by people who thought about writing for money ranked lowest. Those who thought about writing just for pleasure did the best. "Motivation that comes from enjoying the work makes a significant difference, "Amabile said.。

新标准大学英语课文原文New Standard College English Text Original。

Unit 1。

Part I Pre-reading Task。

Text A。

The Dangers of Smoking。

Smoking is a dangerous habit. It causes many different diseases, such as lung cancer and heart disease. Many people die from smoking-related illnesses every year. In addition, smoking can harm other people who are nearby. This is called passive smoking. The smoke from a cigarette not only affects the person who is smoking, but also the people around them. This is why many countries have banned smoking in public places.Part II Global Reading。

Text A。

The Dangers of Smoking。

Smoking is a dangerous habit that can have serious consequences. It not only harms the person who smokes, but also those around them. The smoke from a cigarette can cause lung cancer, heart disease, and many other illnesses. In addition, passive smoking can also lead to health problems for non-smokers. This is why it is important to create smoke-free environments in public places.Part III Detailed Reading。

大学英语综合教程第二版第四册Unit1TextB课文原文及翻译The Normandy LandingsThe largest and most ambitious mili-tary expedition in history was the inva-sion of Normandy in northern France by British, American and Canadian forces that took place in the summer of 1944. Even nature played a role.lt took more than a year for military planners to orchestrate every movement of troops, artillery, ships and aircraft and to set everything in place for the move that was to open up a second front in Europe. This would liberate France and open the way for the final assault on Ger-many itself.Everything was controlled; right down to the placement of military decoys across the English Channel to fool the Germans into thinking the attack would come from Britain's closest point to France at Pas de Calais3 rather than in Normandy as planned.Everything was controlled, that is, except the weather.D-Day, the code name given to the day of invasion, was originally scheduled for 5 June 1944. This date had been ar-rived at by considering two factors -moonlight and tide. The hour of the in-vasion would need to be near sunrise, when the seaborne troops would have a rising tide. This would enable them to land close to the obstacles that had been placed to hinder their landing without coming ashore on top of them. The paratroopers needed a full moon for visibility. The days with the proper tide-moonlight formula closest to the target date were 5, 6 and 7 June. (1) The fifth was chosen for D-Day to allow a safety margin in case the attack needed to be postponedIn addition to moonlight and favorable tides, calm seas were needed for the crossing. (2) But an unusually stormy transitionfrom spring toward summer that year held out little hope that there would be a suitable break in the weather It also meant the possibility that Operation Overlord, as the invasion was called, might have to be postponed until later in the year or even the following year. Z With the arrival of 5 June, the weather was so bad that General Eisenhower4, supreme commander of the invasion forces, was forced to postpone the invasion by one day. When he met with his staff to review their options, they were faced with the grim reality that 6 June did not look much better than the original D-Day. The meteorological re-port gave a thin ray of hope that a lull in the storm would allow enough time to. launch the invasion. Consultations went on late into the night on whether to press ahead. Opinions were divided. Finally, Eisenhower made his decision. "I am quite positive we must give the order," he said. "I don't like it, but there it is. I don't see how we can do anything else." Within hours, an armada of 3,000 landing craft, 2,500 other ships, and 500 naval vessels began to leave English ports.8. Meanwhile, critical errors by the Ger-man side allowed them to be taken com-pletely by surprise. Due to the bad weather, the German navycancelled its usual patrol of the English Channel. Also, a practice drill scheduled for June 6 was called off. The German meteorological services were unaware of the break in the weather. On the eve of the attack, many of the top German leaders were absent from their commands. Rommel 5, the gen-eral in charge of the coastal defenses, was in Germany visiting his wife on her birthday, and several officers were some distance away in Rennes6 or on their way there for a war-game exercise.The assault on Normandy began at 12:15 a.m., when thepathfinders for the American airborne units left their planes and parachuted to earth. Five minutes later, on the other side of the invasion area, the British pathfinders made their jump. The pathfinders were specially trained to find and mark the drop zones. The main airborne assault was to commence within the hour.The airborne attack became confused because of stiff winds and the evasive fly-ing of the transport planes when they en-countered anti-aircraft fire. As a result, the paratroopers were scattered over a wide area and most missed their drop zones, some by as much as 20 miles. Other com-plications were caused by the terrain, and the worst terrain was on the Cotentin Peninsula. The Germans had laced the open fields with anti-personnel and glider stakes and flooded the low areas. The flooding caused the most trouble for the Americans of the 101st and 82nd Airborne divisions, with many of the troops drowned, laden down by their heavyequipment.11. The airborne units were to secure the flanks of the amphibious assault. That meant capturing bridges, crossroads and coastal batteries. After accomplishing those tasks, the paratroopers had to with-stand any German counterattacks.12 As the airborne units struggled to achieve their goals, the great fleet made its way across the channel to its appoint-ment with destiny. Leading that grand ar-mada were the minesweepers. Behind them followed a vast array of naval ves-sels of every conceivable type. Never be-fore had such a fleet been assembled. Including the landing craft carried on board, the combined Allied invasion armada num-bered up to 6,000 ships. Approximately 150,000 men were to cross the English Channel and land atassault beaches code-named "Utah" ' "Omaha" ' "Gold" ' "Juno" and "Sword."The first areas of French soil wrested from German control were a group of small islands located three miles off Utah Beach. Allied commanders were con-cerned that these islands could be used as sites for heavy guns. The men of the U.S. 4th and 24th Cavalry squadrons were des-ignated to take the islands prior to the main invasion. The assault teams found only land mines. The Germans had left the islands unoccupied.For the majority of the assault troops, however, the war had not begun yet. Af-ter spending as long as 48 hours aboard the various transport shipsas a result of the delay, many of the men were miser-ably seasick and in poor shape for the chal-lenge ahead.The naval bombardment began around 5:45 a.m. The air attack followed. The naval and air bombardments were designed to destroy the beach guns and obstacles, pin down the enemy and pro-vide shelter for the ground troops on the open beaches by making craters. Both, however, largely failed in their objectives. Weather conditions had improved, but they were not perfect. Because of poor visibility caused by low cloud cover, it was decided that the bombers would delay the release of bombs 30 seconds to avoid hit-ting the assaulting troops. As a result, the bombs fell inland and missed their targets. Although the naval bombardment was more accurate, it was not much more ef-fective against the hardened German gun emplacements.The weather also was partially re-sponsible for causing some of the assault craft to miss their assigned landing areas. Additionally, many of the landing craft and amphibious tanks foundered in the rough sea. In the Omaha area, most of the craftcarrying artillery and tanks intended to support the incoming troops sank in the high waves.At Utah Beach, however, a strange stroke of good fortune occurred when the assault craft encountered a southerly cur-rent that caused them to land in the wrong sector. (3) The German shore batteries that would have contested a landing in the original area would undoubtedly have taken aheavy toll. The landing at the new sector was virtually unopposed.(4) Despite difficulties, Eisenhower's gamble with the elements was to pay off The invasion forces succeeded in estab-lishing a toehold on French soil. Rein-forcements began to pour in, thrusting on deep into France. Within a year Hitler's empire, which he had boasted would last a thousand years, lay in ruins.诺曼底登陆历史上规模最大、最雄心勃勃的军事远征是1944年夏天英国、美国和加拿大军队入侵法国北部的诺曼底。

大学英语教材第一册课文原文Unit 1 TravelText ATravelingTraveling by air is becoming more and more popular. More and more people are using the air services. But why do they prefer traveling by air to traveling by train or by car?Speed is one of the important things. You can travel hundreds of miles in a few hours by plane. You can get to most places in the world in twenty-four hours or less. In the past, a journey of that distance often took weeks. Some journeys still take weeks or even months now if you do not go by air.But the most important reason for traveling by air is comfort. On a modern plane, you can sit in a comfortable seat with plenty of room. You can get meals and drinks during the flight. And you can walk around the plane if you want to. You do not have to sit in one place all the time. When the weather is good, you can enjoy the beautiful view from the windows. When the weather is bad, you can read, watch TV or just sleep.But not all air travel is comfortable. Economy class travel can be uncomfortable. You usually have very little room for your legs and there is very little personal service.Still, most people think that it is better to travel by plane than by train or by car. Even though air travel is sometimes uncomfortable, it is both faster and more convenient than other types of travel.ExercisesA. Choose the correct answers:1. Which one is an important reason for traveling by air?A. Speed.B. Comfort.C. Low cost.D. Adventure.2. How long does it take to travel by plane to most places in the world?A. A few hours.B. Two days.C. Weeks.D. Twenty-four hours or less.B. Complete the following sentences according to the text:1. Air travel is becoming more and more popular. _______ ______________ _______ the air services.2. On a modern plane, you can sit in a _______ _______ with plenty of room.3. _______ _______ _______ in the past, a journey of hundreds of miles often took weeks.Text BFour Ways of TravelingMany people like to travel. There are different ways of traveling, and they all have their advantages and disadvantages. Here we look at four ways of traveling.Two of the most popular ways are traveling by car and traveling by train. Traveling by car has some advantages. It is cheap, and you can stop whenever and wherever you want. You can also carry a lot of luggage with you. But there are also disadvantages. Sometimes there are traffic jams and accidents, and you can spend a lot of time waiting. Traveling by train is comfortable and you can see the country. You can move around on the train and you can eat in the restaurant car. But trains are not as flexible as cars. They only go to certain places, and you have to catch the train at certain times.Another way of traveling is by boat. If you like ships and the sea, traveling by boat is an excellent way to relax and enjoy yourself. Boats are big and comfortable, and you can have a very good time on board. You can eat and drink in the restaurants and bars, and you can do a lot of shopping. But moving around on a boat can be tiring. You can only go where the boat goes, and you may have to share your cabin with other people.Finally, there is air travel. It is the fastest and most comfortable way of traveling long distances. You can get to most places in the world quickly and easily by plane. You can eat and sleep on the plane, and you can watch TV or listen to music. But air travel is expensive. And sometimes airports can be crowded and noisy.So if you like traveling, what is the best way? It depends on where you want to go, how much money you have, and how much time you have.。

1、Man in the Realm of NatureHuman beings live in the realm of nature. They are constantly surrounded by it and interact with it. Man is constantly aware of the influence of nature in the form of the air he breathes, the water he drinks, and the food he eats. We are connected with nature by "blood" ties and we cannot live outside nature.Man is not only a dweller in nature, he also transforms it. Humanity converts nature's wealth into the means of the cultural, historical life of society. Man has subdued and disciplined electricity and compelled it to serve the interests of society. Not only has man transferred various species of plants and animals to different climatic conditions, he has also changed the shape and climate of his environment and transformed plants and animals.As society develops, man tends to become less dependent on nature directly, while indirectly his dependence grows. Our distant ancestors lived in fear of nature's destructive forces. Very often they were unable to obtain the merest daily necessities. However, despite their imperfect tools, they worked together stubbornly, collectively, and were able to attain results. Nature was also changed through interaction with man. Forests were destroyed and the area of farmland increased. Nature with its elemental forces was regarded as something hostile to man. The forest, for example, was something wild and frightening and people tried to force it to retreat. This was all done in the name of civilization, which meant the places where man had made his home, where the earth was cultivated, where the forest had been cut down.But as time goes on mankind becomes increasingly concerned with the question of where and how to obtain irreplaceable natural resources for the needs of production. Science and man's practical transforming activities have made humanity aware of the enormous geological role played by the industrial transformation of the earth.At present the previous dynamic balance between man and nature and between nature and society as a whole, has shown ominous signs of breaking down. The problem of the so-called replaceable resources of the biosphere has become particularly acute. It is getting more and more difficult to satisfy the needs of human beings and society even for such a substance, for example, as fresh water. The problem of eliminating industrial waste is also becoming increasingly complex. Modern technology is distinguished by an ever increasing abundance of produced and used synthetic goods. Hundreds of thousands of synthetic materials are being made. People increasingly cover their bodies from head to foot in nylon and other synthetic, glittering fabrics that are obviously not good for them. Young people may hardly feel this, and they pay more attention to appearance than to health. But they become more aware of this harmful influence as they grow older. As time goes on the synthetic output of production turns into waste, and then substances that in their original form were not very toxic are transformed in the cycle of natural processes into aggressive agents. Today both natural scientists and philosophers are asking themselves the question: Is man's destruction of the biosphere inevitable?The man-nature relation – the crisis of the ecological situation – is a global problem. Its solution lies in rational and wise organization of both production itself and care for Mother Nature, not just by individuals, enterprises or countries, but by all humanity. One of the ways to deal with the crisis situation in the "man-nature" system is to use such resources as solar energy, the power of winds, the riches of the seas and oceans and other, as yet unknown natural forces of the universe.But to return to our theme, the bitter truth is that those human actions which violate the laws of nature, the harmony of the biosphere, threaten to bring disaster and this disaster may turn out to be universal. How apt then are the words of ancient Oriental wisdom: live closer to nature, my friends, and its eternal laws will protect you!2、Technology and HappinessIn the 20th century, Americans, Europeans, and East Asians enjoyed material and technological advances that were unimaginable in previous eras. In the United States, for instance, gross domestic product per capita tripled from 1950 to 2000. Life expectancy soared. The boom in productivity after World War II made goods better and cheaper at the same time. Things that were once luxuries, such as jet travel and long-distance phone calls, became necessities. And even though Americans seemed to work extraordinarily hard, their pursuit of entertainment turned media and leisure into multibillion-dollar industries.By most standards, then, you would have to say that Americans are better off now than they were in the middle of the last century. Oddly, though, if you ask Americans how happy they are, you find that they are no happier than they were in 1946 (which is when formal surveys of happiness started). In fact, the percentage of people who say they are "very happy" has fallen slightly since the early 1970s – even though the income of people born in 1940 has, on average,increased by 116 percent over the course of their working lives. You can find similar data for most developed countries. The relationship between happiness and technology has been an eternal subject for social critics and philosophers since the advent of the Industrial Revolution. But it's been left largely unexamined by economists and social scientists. The truly groundbreaking work on the relationship between prosperity and well-being was done by the economist Richard Easterlin, who in 1974 wrote a famous paper entitled "Does Economic Growth Improve the Human Lot?" Easterlin showed that when it came to developed countries, there was no real correlation between a nation's income level and its citizens' happiness. Money, Easterlin argued, could not buy happiness – at least not after a certain point. Easterlin showed that though poverty was strongly correlated with misery, once a country was solidly middle-class, getting wealthier did not seem to make its citizens any happier.This seems to be close to a universal phenomenon. In fact, one of happiness scholars' most important insights is that people adapt very quickly to good news. Take lottery winners for example. One famous study showed that although winners were very, very happy when they won, their extreme excitement quickly evaporated, and after a while their moods and sense of well-being were indistinguishable from what they had been before the victory.So, too, with technology: no matter how dramatic a new innovation is, no matter how much easier it makes our lives, it is very easy to take it for granted. You can see this principle at work in the world of technology every day, as things that once seemed miraculous soon become common and, worse, when they don't work perfectly. It's hard, it turns out, to keep in mind what things were like before the new technology came along.Does our fast assimilation of technological progress mean, then, that technology makes no difference? No. It just makes the question of technology's impact, for good or ill, more complicated. Let's start with the downside. There are certain ways in which technology makes life obviously worse. Telemarketing, traffic jams, and identity theft all come to mind. These are all phenomena that make people consciously unhappy. But for the most part, modern critiques of technology have focused not so much on specific, bad technologies as the impact of technology on our human relationships.Privacy has become increasingly fragile in a world of linked databases. In many workplaces, technologies like keystroke monitoring and full recordings of phone calls make it easier to watch workers. The notion that technology disrupts relationships and fractures community gained mainstream prominence as an attack on television. Some even say that TV is chiefly responsible for the gradual isolation of Americans from each other. Similarly, the harmful effects of the Internet, which supposedly further isolates people from what is often called "the real world".This broad criticism of technology's impact on relationships is an interesting one and is especially relevant to the question of happiness, because one of the few things we can say for certain is that the more friends and the closer relationships people have, the happier they tend to be.Today, technological change is so rapid that when you buy something, you do so knowing that in a few months there's going to be a better, faster version of the product, and that you're going to be stuck with the old one. Someone else, in other words, has it better. It's as if disappointment were built into acquisition from the very beginning.Daily stress, an annoying sense of disappointment, fear that the government knows a lot more about you than you would like it to – these are obviously some of the ways in which technology reduces people's sense of well-being. But the most important impact of technology on people's sense of well-being is in the field of health care. Before the Industrial Revolution, two out of every three Europeans died before the age of 30. Today, life expectancy for women in Western Europe is almost 80 years, and it continues to increase. The point is obvious: the vast majority of people are happy to be alive, and the more time they get on earth, the better off they feel they'll be. But until very recently, life for the vast majority of people was nasty, rough, and short. Technology has changed that, at least for people in the rich world. As much as we should worry about the rising cost of health care and the problem of the uninsured, it's also worth remembering how valuable for our spirits as well as our bodies are the benefits that medical technology has brought us.On a deeper level, what the technological improvement of our health and our longevity emphasizes is a paradox of any discussion of happiness on a national or a global level: even though people may not be happier, even though they are wealthier and possess more technology, they're still as hungry as ever for more time. It's like that old joke: the food may not be so great, but we want the portions to be as big as possible.3、The Rainbow of KnowledgeFor more than 3/4 of my life – 39 of my 50 years – I've either studied or taught in a school or a college in New York.You might think, then, that after all this time I'd have some grasp of the situation, that I'd actually know things – that I'd have some positive sense of assurance, of certainty, about knowledge and about life. But I don't. In fact, the more I know, the more I know I don't know.To say that the more I know, the more I know I don't know is, of course, contradictory. But then, modern physics tells us that reality itself is contradictory. The more scientists look into our physical reality, the more it slips away from them. In a way, the more they learn, the less they know.Knowledge itself is contradictory. For example, picture your knowledge as a dot, as perhaps the period at the end of this sentence. Notice the tiny circumference of that period, and let that represent the interface of the known with the unknown – in other words, your awareness of what you don't know.But now imagine that little period growing, its blackness consuming more and more of the page. As it grows, so does its circumference. And if that growing blackness represents knowledge, then as it grows, so does the awareness of what remains unknown. In other words, the more you know, the more you know you don't know.No doubt you have experienced this yourself in your own personal quests for knowledge. At first, you don't even know a field of learning exists. It's been there all along, of course; you just haven't noticed it before. When I got my first computer in 1988, I walked down to the magazine store, hoping to find something about computing and was amazed at the number of choices. Likewise, when I lucked into an opportunity to teach film analysis, I found myself dazzled at the sheer number of books devoted to the subject.Let's say you decide to learn about this topic. You buy one of these books, the best and most complete one you can find (or so you think), or perhaps you borrow it from the library. But you quickly find that your reading, rather than answering questions, only creates more of them.Earlier this year, for example, I not only had no idea that I had any interest at all in the relationship of technology to freedom; I didn't even realize that a connection between them might exist. So I started reading books and became more and more aware of the relationship between technology and freedom. Then, on the one hand, I now know much more about this topic than I did a few short months ago. But on the other hand, all this reading has made me see how little I really know and how much more I need to read and think and write. Once I've finished reading a book, I always feel that I need to read three more to gain a better grasp of the topic. And I think and write at the same time. In fact, it is my writing that has led me into it. We think often that only people who know and who are sure of themselves write. For me, however, it's just the opposite. Writing doesn't close things off – it opens things up.For a long time, I, as a writer, was paralyzed by this paradox – the more I know, the more I know I don't know. I was very aware of the teaching from Taoism that said "those who know don't speak; those who speak don't know." I wasn't sure I should write at all, and, even if I did, I didn't believe that I was qualified to do it. I always felt I had to know more first. It took me a long time not to let this paradox freeze me and to believe that it was my writing that would qualify my knowledge, and not the other way around. I think of my work not as articles or as columns but as essays – a word from French, meaning "to try". I do not know truth. I only try to find it.I don't mean, of course, to suggest that we should not learn, or that we should not read and write and think and talk. I do not mean to suggest that we should not try. An infinite quest is not a hopeless one. I only suggest that an understanding will inevitably and doubtlessly lead us away from the force and rigidity of dogmatism and toward the flexibility and freedom of the individual. As Taoism teaches, "the stiff and unbending is the disciple of death. The gentle and yielding is the disciple of life."We must temper our pride in knowing with the humility of not knowing. The truth, as they say, is out there, but, maybe, like the rainbow, we can never really grasp it, never hold it in our hands and truly know it. We can only, as William James said, "live today by what truth we can get today and be ready to call it falsehood tomorrow."4、Work, Labor, and PlaySo far as I know, Miss Hannah Arendt was the first person to define the essential difference between work and labor. To be happy, a man must feel, firstly, free and, secondly, important. He cannot be really happy if he is compelled by society to do what he does not enjoy doing, or if what he enjoys doing is ignored by society as of no value or importance. In a society where slavery in the strict sense has been abolished, whether what a man does has social value depends on whether he ispaid money to do it, but a laborer today can rightly be called a wage slave. A man is a laborer if the job society offers him is of no interest to himself but he is compelled to take it by the necessity of earning a living and supporting his family.The opposite to labor is play. When we play a game, we enjoy what we are doing, otherwise we should not play it, but it is a purely private activity; society could not care less whether we play it or not.Between labor and play stands work. A man is a worker if he is personally interested in the job which society pays him to do; what from the point of view of society is necessary labor is from his own point of view voluntary play. Whether a job is to be classified as labor or work depends, not on the job itself, but on the tastes of the individual who undertakes it. The difference does not, for example, coincide with the difference between a manual and a mental job; a gardener or a cobbler may be a worker, a bank clerk a laborer. Which a man is can be seen from his attitude toward leisure. To a worker, leisure means simply the hours he needs to relax and rest in order to work efficiently. He is therefore more likely to take too little leisure than too much; workers die of heart attacks and forget their wives' birthdays. To the laborer, on the other hand, leisure means freedom from compulsion, so that it is natural for him to imagine that the fewer hours he has to spend laboring, and the more hours he is free to play, the better.What percentage of the population in a modern technological society are, like myself, in the fortunate position of being workers? At a guess I would say sixteen per cent, and I do not think that figure is likely to get bigger in the future. Technology and the division of labor have done two things: by eliminating in many fields the need for special strength or skill, they have made a very large number of paid occupations which formerly were enjoyable work into boring labor, and by increasing productivity they have reduced the number of necessary laboring hours. It is already possible to imagine a society in which the majority of the population, that is to say, its laborers, will have almost as much leisure as in earlier times was enjoyed by the aristocracy . When one recalls how aristocracies in the past actually behaved, the prospect is not cheerful. Indeed, the problem of dealing with boredom may be even more difficult for such a future mass society than it was for aristocracies. The latter, for example, ritualized their time; there was a season to shoot grouse, a season to spend in town, etc. The masses are more likely to replace an unchanging ritual by fashion which changes as often as possible in the economic interest of certain people. Again, the masses cannot go in for hunting, for very soon there would be no animals left to hunt. For other aristocratic amusements like gambling, dueling, and warfare, it may be only too easy to find equivalents in dangerous driving, drug-taking, and senseless acts of violence. Workers seldom commit acts of violence, because they can put their aggression into their work, be it physical like the work of a smith, or mental like the work of a scientist or an artist. The role of aggression in mental work is aptly expressed by the phrase "getting one's teeth into a problem ".。

新视野大学英语第三版第一册课文原文Unit 1Lesson AThe world of the computerComputers are practically everywhere these days. They are being used more and more in industry, in medicine, in education and in many other areas of our lives. In fact, the computer age is upon us, and there’s almost no escaping it. As a result, understanding computers and how they work has become a vital skill.Computers can process informationA computer is a machine that can process information. It can also store and retrieve large amounts of information very quickly. Computers have the ability to perform calculations and solve problems far more efficiently than humans can.Computer parts and their functionsComputers belong to two general categories: hardware and software. Hardware refers to the physical parts of the computer, such as the monitor, the keyboard, and the CPU (Central Processing Unit). Software refers to the programs and operating systems that run on the computer.The development of computersComputers have come a long way since they were first invented. The first computer, called the ENIAC (Electronic Numerical Integrator and Computer), was developed in the 1940s and took up an entire room. Today’s computers are much smaller and more powerful, thanks to advancements in technology.Lesson BWhat’s happening in my brain?Our brains are amazing organs that control everything we do. They are responsible for our thoughts, our movements, our emotions, and even our dreams. Understanding how the brain works can help us understand ourselves better.The structure of the brainThe brain is made up of many different parts, each with its own functions. The cerebral cortex, for example, is responsible for our higher-level thinking, such as language and problem-solving. The cerebellum controls our balance and coordination, while the limbic system is responsible for our emotions.Neurons and neural networksThe brain is made up of billions of cells called neurons. Neurons are specialized cells that transmit information in the form of electrical signals. They are connected to each otherthrough neural networks, which allow information to be processed and transmitted throughout the brain.How the brain learnsThe brain is constantly changing and adapting, a process known as neuroplasticity. When we learn something new, new connections are formed between neurons, strengthening the neural network related to that particular skill or knowledge. This process of learning and forming new connections is what allows us to acquire new skills and knowledge throughout our lives.Lesson CThe power of languageLanguage is a powerful tool that allows us to communicate and express ourselves. It is an essential part of our daily lives, helping us connect with others and understand the world around us. Understanding language and how it works can help us become better communicators.The structure of languageLanguage is made up of several components, including sounds (phonology), words (lexicon), grammar (syntax), and meaning (semantics). Phonology refers to the sounds of a language, while lexicon refers to the vocabulary. Grammar provides the rules for combining words into sentences, and semantics deals with the meaning of words and sentences.The process of language acquisitionLanguage acquisition is the process by which we learn a language. It begins at a young age and continues throughout our lives. During this process, we learn the sounds, vocabulary, grammar, and meaning of a language through exposure and practice.The diversity of languagesThere are thousands of languages spoken around the world, each with its own unique characteristics. Some languages have more speakers than others, but all languages are equally valuable and important. Language diversity is a reflection of the cultural diversity of human societies.ConclusionThese are just a few examples of the fascinating topics covered in the first unit of New Horizon College English, Third Edition. From computers to the brain to language, this unit introduces students to a range of interesting and relevant subjects. By studying these topics, students can expand their knowledge and develop important skills for the modern world.。

Unit1 The misery of shyness Shyness is the cause of much unhappiness for a great many people. All kinds of people describe themselves as shy :short , tall, dull, intelligent, young, old, slim, overweight. Shy people are anxious and self-conscious; that is, they are excessively（过多地） concerned with their own appearance and actions. Worrisome thought are constantly swirling(打转，旋动) in their minds: What kind of impression am I making? Do they like me? Do I stupid? I‟m ugly. I‟m wearing unattractive clothes. It‟s obvious that such uncomfortable feelings must affect people adversely. a person „s self-concept is reflected in the way he or she behaves, and the way people think about themselves has a positive sense of self-worth or high self-esteem usually act with confidence .because they have self-assurance, they do not need constant praise and encouragement from others to feel good about themselves. Self-confident people participate in life enthusiastically and spontaneously（自发地，本能地）.they are not affected by what others think they “should” do . people with high self-esteem are not hurt by criticism; they do not regard criticism as a personal attack.. instead they view a criticism as a suggestion for improvement. In contrast, shy people, having low self-esteem ,are likely to be passive and easily influenced by others .they need reassurance that they are doing “the right thing”. Shy people are very sensitive(敏感的) to criticism; they feel it confirms inferiority（劣势；自卑）.they also find it difficult to be pleased by compliments because they are unworthy of praise. A shy person may respond a compliment with a statement like this one:“you are just saying that to make me feel good. I know it‟s not true.”it is clear that, while self-awareness is a healthy quality, overdoing it is detrimental, or harmful. Can shyness be completely eliminated, or at least reduced？ Fortunately, people can overcome shyness with determined and patient effort in building self-esteem, it is important for people to accept their weakness and as well as their strengths. For example, most people would like to be “A” students in every subject. It is not fair for them to label themselves as inferior because they have difficultly in some areas. People‟s expectations of themselves must be realistic. Dwelling on the impossible leads to a sense of inadequacy, and even feelings of envy, or jealousy. We are self-destructive when we envy a student who gets better grades. If you are shy here are some specific helpful steps toward building self-confidence and overcoming shyness. recognize your personal strengths and weaknesses. Everyone has both. As self-acceptance grows, shyness naturally diminishes. set reasonable goals. For example, you may be timid about being with a group of strangers at a party. Don‟t feel that you must converse with everyone. Concentrate on talking to only one or two people. You will feel more comfortable. guilt and shame are destructive feelings. don‟t waste time and energy on them. Suppose you hurt someone‟s feelings. Feeling shame accomplishes nothing. Instead, accept the fact that you make a mistake, and make up your mind to be more sensitive. there are numerous approaches to all issues. Few opinions are completely right or wrong. Don‟t be afraid to speak up and give you point of view. don‟t make negative comments on about yourself. This is a form of self-reject. avoid describing yourself as stupid, ugly, a failure. Accent the positive. accept criticism thoughtfully. Do not interpret it as a personal attack. If, for example, a friend complains your cooking, accept it as a comment on your cooking ,not yourself. Be assured that you are still friends, but perhaps your cooking could improve. remember everyone experience some failure and disappointment. Profit from them as learning experiences. Very often a disappointment become a turning point for a wonderful experience to come along. For instance, you may be rejected by the college of your choice. However, at the college you actually attend, you may find a quality of education beyond what you had expected. do not associate with people who make you feel inadequate, try to change their attitude or yours, or remove yourself from the relationship. People who hurt you do not have your best interests at heart. set aside time, enjoy hobbies, and reevaluate your goals regularly. Time spend this way helps you learn more about yourself. practice being in social situations. Don‟t isolate yourself from people. Try making one acquaintance at a time; eventually you will circulate in large groups with skill and self-assurance. Each one of us is unique, valuable individual. We are interesting in our own personal ways. The better we understand ourselves, the easily it becomes to live up to our full potential. let‟s not allow shyness to block our chances for a rich and fulfilling life.

新编大学英语第二版Book2 Unit1-4课文原文加翻译Unit 1 A Good Heart to Lean OnMore than I realized, Dad has helped me keep my balance.[1] When I was growing up, I was embarrassed to be seen with my father. He was severely crippled and very short, and when we would walk together, his hand on my arm for balance , people would stare. I would be ashamed of the unwanted attention. If he ever noticed or was bothered, he never let on.[2] It was difficult to coordinate our steps—his halting, mine impatient —and because of that, we didn't say much as we went along. But as we started out, he always said, “You set the pace. I will try to adjust to you. ”[3] Our usual walk was to or from the subway, which was how he got to work. He went to work sick, and despite nasty weather. He almost never missed a day, and would make it to the office even if others could not. It was a matter of pride for him.[4] When snow or ice was on the ground, it was impossible for him to walk, even with help. At such times my sisters or I would pull him through the streets of Brooklyn , N.Y., on a child's sleigh to the subway entrance. Once there, he would cling to the handrail until he reached the lower steps that the warmer tunnel air kept ice-free.In Manhattan the subway station was the basement of his office building, and he would not have to go outside again until we met him in Brooklyn on his way home..[5] When I think of it now, I marvel at how much courage it must have taken for a grown man to subject himself to such indignity and stress. And I marvel at how he did it—without bitterness or complaint.[6] He never talked about himself as an object of pity, nor did he show any envy of the more fortunate or able . What he looked for in others was a “good heart”, and if he found one, the owner was good enough for him.[7] Now that I am older, I believe that is a proper standard by which to judge people , even though I still don't know precisely what a “good heart” is. But I know the times I don't have one myself.[8] Unable to engage in many activities, my father still tried to participate in some way. When a local baseball team found itself without a manager , he kept it going. He was a knowledgeable baseball fan and often took me to Ebbets Field to see the Brooklyn Dodgers play. He liked to go to dances and parties, where he could have a good time just sitting and watching.[9] On one memorable occasion a fight broke out at a beach party, with everyone punching and shoving .He wasn't content to sit and watch, but he couldn't stand unaided on the soft sand. In frustration he began to shout, “I'll fight anyone who will sit down with me! I'll fight anyone who will sit down with me! ”[10] Nobody did. But the next day people kidded him by saying it was the first time any fighter was urged to take a dive even before the bout began.[11] I now know he participated in some things vicariously through me, his only son. When I played ball (poorly), he “played” too. When I joined the Navy, he “joined” too. And when I came home on leave, he saw to it that I visited his office. Introducing me, he was really saying, “This is my son, but it is also me, and I could have done this, too, if things had been different. ” Those wordswere never said aloud.[12] He has been gone many years now, but I think of him often. I wonder if he sensed my reluctance to be seen with him during our walks. If he did, I am sorry I never told him how sorry I was, how unworthy I was, how I regretted it. I think of him when I complain about trifles, when I am envious of anoth er's good fortune, when I don't have a “good heart”.[13] At such times I put my hand on his arm to regain my balance, and say, “You set the pace. I will try to adjust to you.” ( 703 words)【译文】善良之心，久久相依1 随着我渐渐长大，当别人看见我和爸爸在一起，我会觉得很尴尬。

新视野大学英语读写教程第一册unit1Section APre-reading ActivitiesFirst ListeningPlease listen to a short passage carefully and prepare to answer some questions. Second ListeningListen to the tape again. Then answer the following questions with your own experiences.1. What problems do you have in trying to learn English in your middle school?2. Why do you think the computer can help you in learning English?3. What other things do you think we can gain through English language learning? Learning a Foreign LanguageLearning a foreign language was one of the most difficult yet most rewarding experiences of my life. Although at times, learning a language was frustrating, it was well worth the effort.My experience with a foreign language began in junior middle school, when I took my first English class. I had a kind and patient teacher who often praised all of the students. ause of this positive method, I eagerly answered all the questions I could,never worrying much about making mistakes. I was at the top of my class for two years.When I went to senior middle school, I was eager to continue studying English; however, my experience in senior school was very different from before. While my former teacher had been patient with all the students, my new teacher quickly punished those who gave incorrect answers. Whenever we answered incorrectly, she pointed a long stick at us and, shaking it up and down, shouted, "No! No! No!" It didn't take me long to lose my eagerness to answer questions. Not only did I lose my joy in answering questions, but also I totally lost my desire to say anything at all in English.However, that state didn't last long. When I went to college, I learned that all students were required to take an English course. Unlike my senior middle school teacher, my college English teachers were patient and kind, and none of them carried long, pointed sticks! However, the situation was far from perfect. As our classes were very large, I was only able to answer a couple of questions in each class period. Also, after a few weeks of classes, I noticed there were many students who spoke much better than I did. I began to feel intimidated. So, once again, although for different reasons, I was afraid to speak. It seemed my English was going to stay at the same level forever.That was the situation until a couple of years later, when I was offered an opportunity to study English through an online course. The communicationmedium was a computer, phone line, and modem. I soon got access to the necessary equipment, learned the technology from a friend and participated in the virtual classroom 5 to 7 days a week.Online learning is not easier than regular classroom study; it requires much time, commitment and discipline to keep up with the flow of the course. I worked hard to meet the minimum standards set by the course and to complete assignments on time.I practiced all the time. I carried a little dictionary with me everywhere I went, as well as a notebook in which I listed any new words I heard. I made many, sometimes embarrassing, mistakes. Once in a while I cried with frustration, and sometimes I felt like giving up. But I didn't feel intimidated by students who spoke faster than I did ause I took all the time I needed to think out my ideas and wrote a reply before posting it on the screen. Then, one day I realized I could understand just about everything I came across, and most importantly, I could "say" anything I wanted to in English. Although I still made many mistakes and was continually learning, I had finally reaped the benefits of all that hard work.Learning a foreign language has been a most trying experience for me, but one that I wouldn't trade for anything. Not only did learning another language teach me the value of hard work, but it also gave me insights into another culture, and my mind was opened to new ways of seeing things. The most wonderful result of having learned a foreign language was that I could communicate with many more peoplethan before. Talking with people is one of my favorite activities, so being able to speak a new language lets me meet new people, participate in converions, and form new, unforgettable friendships. Now that I speak a foreign language, instead of staring into space when English is being spoken, I can participate and make friends. I am able to reach out to others and bridge the gap between my language and culture and theirs.Section BKeys to Successful Online LearningWhile regular schools still exist, the virtual classroom plays an important role in today's learning community. Job opportunities for students are expanding rapidly and more people of all ages are oming aware of online learning that allows them to study at home. Online students, however, require unique qualities to be successful. The following list discusses some ideal qualities of successful online students.1. Be open-minded about sharing life, work, and learning experiences as part of online learning.Many different people find that the online method requires them to use their experiences and that online learning offers them a place to communicate with each other. This forum for communication removes the visual barriers that hinder some students from expressing themselves. In addition, students are given time to reflecton the information before replying. In this way, students can help to keep the online environment open and friendly.2. Be able to communicate through writing.In the virtual classroom nearly all communication is written, so it is critical that students feel comfortable expressing themselves in writing. Some students have limited writing abilities which need to be improved before or as part of the online experience. This usually requires extra commitment by these students. Whether working alone or in a group, students share ideas, perspectives and discussions on the subject being studied, and read about those of their classmates. In this way, students gain at insight from their peers, learning from each other as well as the instructor.3. Be willing to "speak up" if problems arise.Remember that instructors cannot see their students in an online course. This means students must be absolutely explicit with their comments and requests. If they experience technical difficulties, or problems in understanding something about the course, they MUST speak up; otherwise there is no way anyone can know something is wrong. If one person does not understand something, possibly several others have the same problem. If another student is able to help, she/he probably will. While explaining something to others, students reinforce their own knowledge about the subject.4. Take the program seriously.Online learning is not easier than study in regular classrooms. In fact, many students say it requires much more time and effort. Requirements for online courses are not less than those of any quality program. Successful students, however, see online learning as a convenient way to receive their education —not an easier way. Many online students sit at computers for hours at a time during evenings and on weekends in order to complete their assignments. When other people are finished and having fun is most likely the time when online students do their course work. Online students need to commit 4 to 15 hours a week for each course.5. Accept critical thinking and decision making as part of online learning.Online courses require students to make decisions based on facts as well as experience. It is absolutely necessary for students to assimilate information and make the right decisions based on critical thinking. In a positive online environment, students feel valued by the instructor, by their classmates and by their own work.6. Be able to think ideas through before replying.Providing meaningful and quality input into the virtual classroom is an essential part of online learning. Time is given to allow for careful development of answers. Testing and challenging of ideas is encouraged. Many times online students will not always be right; they just need to be prepared to accept a challenge.7. Keep up with the pross of the course.Online learning is normally sequential and requires commitment on the students' part. Keeping up with the face-to-face class and completing all work on time is vital. Once students get behind, it is almost impossible to catch up. Students need to want to be there and need to want the experience. The instructor may have to communicate with students personally to offer help and remind them of the need to keep up.Just as many excellent instructors may not be effective online facilitators, not all students have the necessary qualities to perform well online. People who have the qualities discussed above usually make very successful online students. If you have these qualities, learning online may be one of the best discoveries you will ever make.新视野大学英语读写教程第一册课文原文unit2Section APre-reading ActivitiesFirst ListeningYou are about to read an early morning exchange between a daughter and her parents.Second ListeningDiscuss the following questions after the second listening.1. What are some of the things you think the daughter and her parents might have different ideas about?2. How can the older and the younger generation have real communication with and understand each other?A Busy Weekday MorningThe radio clicked on. Rock music blasted forth. Like a shot, the music woke Sandy. She looked at the clock; it was 6:15 A.M. Sandy sang along with the words as she lay listening to her favorite radio station."Sandy," shouted her father. "Sandy, turn that music off!" Steve Finch burst into her room. "Why do you have to listen to such horrible stuff? It's the same thing over and over. I'm not sure it is really music though it does have rhythm. Hmmm. No, it isn't really music. It's weird. It is definitely horrible stuff.""I like that music, Dad; it's my favorite group —Gre en Waves. Listen for a minute; I'm sure you'll like it. It has a really powerful message. Didn't you ever listen to music like this when you were a youngster?" Sandy reached for the radio to turn it up louder."No, no, don't do that. I can't stand it. The music I listened to had a message, too, but the words were clear and the musicians didn't use such offensive language. Turn that radio down so your mother and I can't hear it. I'm sure that music ishurting your ears as well as your brain. Now, would you please hurry up and turn it off? Get ready for school or you'll be late!"Sandy walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. At first, the water felt cold. It helped her wake up. Then, as the water got hotter, she thought, "This shower feels great and in here I can be alone and sing. No one disturbs me in here." She grabbed the soap and washed thoroughly, including her hair. If she stayed in the shower too long, her mom or dad usually banged on the door to rush her so she grabbed a towel and dried off.After her shower, Sandy brushed her hair, put on her old, gre en T-shirt and some jeans and wrapped her sweater around her shoulders. Then she put on her makeup, grabbed her books and went to the kitchen.She looked at the clock again; it was late. As usual, she didn't know what to have for breakfast, so she grabbed a glass of milk and ate a piece of toast while standing by the sink. Just then, her mother, Jane, entered the kitchen."Sandy, why don't you sit down and eat your breakfast? It isn't healthy to eat standing up.""I know. Mom, but I'm already late for school. I don't have time to sit down and eat.""Did you finish your homework, dear?""Yes.""Do you have your instrument?""Uh-huh.""And your lunch?""Yah.""Did you brush your teeth?""Mom, I haven't finished eating breakfast yet. I'll brush my teeth when I'm done." "You should brush your teeth when you wake up and then brush them again after breakfast. Sandy, why are you wearing that old T-shirt? It's disgusting. I know you have some nice blouses in your closet.""Mom, please stop.""Stop what, dear?""Stop bugging me.""Sandy, are you wearing eye-liner?""Yes, Mom, I've been wearing eye-liner for months. Isn't it pretty? It's called French Lilac Blue. I just love it." Sandy pretended not to notice that her mother was a little annoyed."Sandy Finch, you're too young to wear that much makeup. Please go upstairs and wash it off.""Mom, I'm fifteen. I'm old enough to wear makeup. Believe me, all the girls at school wear makeup. Some have tattoos and pierced ears, and noses and tongues, too. Mom, I don't have time to talk about this now —I'm late. I've got to go. See you later." Sandy kissed her mother quickly on the cheek, picked up her books, and bolted out of the house.As she ran to catch the school bus, Sandy thought of her older brother Bill who was away at college. He phoned her often so they could talk and share their problems, but she hadn't heard from him for a while. She missed him. Since Bill had gone to college, her mother bugged Sandy much more than before, and she was arguing with her mother a lot more than usual, too.Section BParent TalkAfter Sandy had left for school, Jane Finch sat down in peace and quiet to drink her coffee. She sipped slowly and tried to read the newspaper. Soon her husband joined her."Would you like some coffee, Steve?" asked Jane."No thanks, honey. My stomach feels upset —like it's full of knots. It's probably that awful music that wakes me up every morning. I don't think I'm old-fashioned but hearing those tuneless, offensive lyrics repeatedly makes my blood boil. There is no message to them either. I can't believe Sandy really likes that stuff.""You know, honey, different music appeals to different generations," reasoned Jane. "Remember some of the music we listened to?"Steve smiled. "You're right. Maybe eating breakfast will help me get rid of some of the knots in my stomach.""I'll get you some juice," she offered, starting to get up."That's okay," said Steve. "I'll get it. You're reading.""I'm not really reading. I'm distracted. I've been thinking about Sandy too."Steve prepared his breakfast and then sat down with his wife. She gave him a section of the newspaper and they both tried to read for a few moments. Then Jane broke the silence."Did you notice how much makeup our fifteen-year-old daughter was wearing this morning? When I asked about it, she told me she's been wearing eyeliner for months. I can't believe I never noticed. I suppose we should feel lucky bec ause makeup is our biggest problem with her. I've seen other teenagers walking around town with tattoos and piercings all over their bodies—in their eyebrows, their noses, everywhere. I suppose they're expressing their identity but it's so very different from what we did.""Is it so different?" asked Steve. "I remember defying my parents when I gre w my hair long. Remember? It was so long it was down below my shoulders.""And you almost got expelled from school," added Jane."That's true but my hair could be cut. These tattoos are permanent. Tattoos seem radical to me.""Actually, tattoos can be removed," said Jane. "It's painful and expensive but they can be removed. Every generation seems to need to identify itself.""What worries me," said Steve, "is that music has a very negative message. It could have a negative influence on Sandy. I don't know what's happening to our little girl. She's changing and I'm concerned about her. Makeup, terrible music —who knows what will be next? We need to have a talk with her. The news is full of stories about teenagers in trouble whose parents hardly know anything about their problems.""Oh, I don't think her music is so terrible. I like it." said Jane."You like it? ""You know I like loud, weird music. Anyway, you're right. We need to have a talk with Sandy," a gre ed Jane.Jane glanced at the clock. "Oh dear, I'm late!" she moaned. "I have to run or I'll be late for my first appointment." She kissed her husband quickly, picked up her briefcase, and started for the door."Bye, honey," called Jane."Bye, dear," answered Steve.As Jane Finch drove to work, she thought about her children, Sandy and Bill. "Sandy is beginning to mature," she thought. "Soon she'll be dating and going out but I don't want her wasting her time talking on the phone and watching TV. I want her to do well in school and to continue her music. How can I tell her these things? I don't want her to get angry with me. If I'm too strict, she'll rebel. I often worry she may rebel and go too far. So many young girls rebel, drop out of school and get into all kinds of trouble. Sometimes they even run away from home. I wouldn't want that to happen to Sandy."Jane knew what she wanted to say, what she had to say to Sandy. She was so glad that she and Sandy could still talk things over. She knew she had to have patience and keep the lines of communication with her daughter open. She wanted to be there as an anchor for her but at the same time she would give her her freedom to find her own identity.新视野大学英语读写教程第一册课文Unit 3Section APre-reading ActivitiesFirst ListeningHaving ideas about a story before you read it is an important reading skill. Please listen to a very short piece of recording.Second ListeningNow listen to the recording for the second time and try to the best of your ability to answer the following questions.1. Why do you think people stared at the father and the son?2. What do you think a "good heart" is?3. What is the difference between how the son felt about his father as a youth and how he feels many years later?4. Now read the story below. How close did you come to knowing the answers before you read the whole story?A Good Heart to Lean OnMore than I realized, Dad has helped me keep my balance.When I was growing up, I was embarrassed to be seen with my father. He was severely crippled and very short, and when we walked together, his hand on my arm for balance, people would stare. I would inwardly struggle at the unwanted attention. If he ever noticed or was bothered, he never let on.It was difficult to coordinate our steps —his halting, mine impatient —and ause of that, we didn't say much as we went along. But as we started out, he always said, "You set the pace. I will try to adjust to you."Our usual walk was to or from the subway on which he traveled to work. He went to work sick, and despite nasty weather. He almost never missed a day, and would make to the office even if others could not. A matter of pride.When snow or ice was on the ground, it was impossible for him to walk, even with help. At such times my sisters or I would pull him through the streets of Brooklyn, N.Y., on a child's wagon with steel runners to the subway entrance. Once there, he would cling to the hand-rail until he reached the lower steps that the warmer tunnel air kept free of ice. In Manhattan the subway station was the basement of his office building, and he would not have to go outside again until we met him in Brooklyn on his way home.When I think of it now, I am amazed at how much courage it must have taken for a grown man to subject himself to such shame and stress. And at how he did it—without bitterness or complaint.He never talked about himself as an object of pity, nor did he show any envy of the more fortunate or able. What he looked for in others was a "good heart", and if he found one, the owner was good enough for him.Now that I am older, I believe that is a proper standard by which to judge people, even though I still don't know precisely what a "good heart" is. But I know the times I don't have one myself.Unable to engage in many activities, my father still tried to participate in some way. When a local baseball team found itself without a manager, he kept it going. He was a knowledgeable baseball fan and often took me to Ebbets Field to see the Brooklyn Dodgers play. He liked to go to dances and parties, where he could have a good time just sitting and watching.On one occasion a fight broke out at a beach party, with everyone punching and shoving. He wasn't content to sit and watch, but he couldn't stand unaided on the soft sand. In frustration he began to shout, "I'll fight anyone who will sit down with me! I'll fight anyone who will sit down with me!"Nobody did. But the next day people kidded him by saying it was the first time any fighter was urged to take a dive before the fight began.I now know he participated in some things through me, his only son. When I played ball (poorly), he "played" too. When I joined the Navy, he "joined" too. And when I came home on leave, he saw to it that I visited his office. Introducing me, he was really saying, "This is my son, but it is also me, and I could have done this, too, if things had been different." Those words were never said aloud.He has been gone many years now, but I think of him often. I wonder if he sensed my reluctance to be seen with him during our walks. If he did, I am sorry I never told him how sorry I was, how unworthy I was, how I retted it. I think of him when I complain about trifles, when I am envious of another's good fortune, when I don't have a "good heart."At such times I put my hand on his arm to regain my balance, and say, "You set the pace. I will try to adjust to you."Section BThe Right Son at the Right TimeThe story began on a downtown Brooklyn street corner. An elderly man had collapsed while crossing the street, and an ambulance rushed him to Kings County Hospital. There, when he came to now and again, the man repeatedly called for his son.From a worn letter located in his pocket, an emergency-room nurse learned that his son was a Marine stationed in North Carolina. Apparently there were no other relatives.Someone at the hospital called the Red Cross office in Brooklyn, and a request for the boy to rush to Brooklyn was sent to the Red Cross director of the North Carolina Marine Corps camp.ause time was short —the patient was dying —the Red Cross man and an officer set out in an army vehicle. They found the young man walking through some marshes in a military exercise. He was rushed to the airport in time to catch the sole plane that might enable him to reach his dying father.It was dusk when the young Marine walked into the entrance lobby of Kings County Hospital. A nurse took the tired, anxious serviceman to the bedside."Your son is here," she said to the old man. She had to repeat the words several times before the patient's eyes opened. The medicine he had been given because of the pain from his heart attack made his eyes weak and he only dimly saw the young man in Marine Corps uniform standing outside the oxygen tent. He extended his hand. The Marine wrapped his strong fingers around the old man's limp ones, squeezing a message of love and encouragement. The nurse brought a chair, so the Marine could sit by the bed.Nights are long in hospitals, but all through the night the young Marine there in the dimly-lit ward, holding the old man's hand and offering words of hope and strength. Occasionally, the nurse urged the Marine to rest for a while. He refused. Whenever the nurse came into the ward, the Marine was there, but he paid no attention to her and the night noises of the hospital —the banging of an oxygen tank, the laughter of the night staff exchanging etings, the cries and moans and breathing of other patients. Now and then she heard him say a few gentle words. The dying man said nothing, only held tightly to his son through most of the night. It was nearly dawn when the patient died. The Marine placed the lifeless hand he had been holding on the bed, and went to inform the nurse. While she did what she had to do, he smoked a cigarette, his first since he got to the hospital.Finally, she returned to the nurse's station, where he was waiting. She started to offer words of sympathy, but the Marine interrupted her. "Who was that man?" he asked."He was your father," she answered, startled."No, he wasn't," the Marine replied. "I never saw him before in my life.""Why didn't you say something when I took you to him?" the nurse asked."I knew immediately there'd been a mistake, but I also knew he needed his son, and his son just wasn't here. When I realized he was too sick to tell whether or not I was his son, I guessed he really needed me. So I stayed. "With that, the Marine turned and exited the hospital. Two days later a message came in from the North Carolina Marine Corps base informing the Brooklyn Red Cross that the real son was on his way to Brooklyn for his father's funeral. It turned out there had been two Marines with the same name and similar numbers in the camp. Someone in the personnel office had pulled out the wrong record.But the wrong Marine had ome the right son at the right time. And he proved, in a very human way, that there are people who care what happens to their fellow men. 新视野大学英语读写教程第一册课文unit4Section APre-reading ActivitiesFirst ListeningPlease listen to a short passage carefully and prepare to answer some questions.Second ListeningListen to the tape again. Then answer the following questions with your own experiences.1. How long does it take us to judge the people we meet?2. What is one way you can have a positive effect on other people?3. What is the key to being the best person you can be?How to Make a Good ImpressionResearch shows we make up our minds about people through unspoken communication within seven seconds of meeting them. Consciously or unconsciously, we show our true feelings with our eyes, faces, bodies and attitudes, causing a chain of reactions, ranging from comfort to fear.Think about some of your most unforgettable meetings: an introduction to your future spouse, a job interview, an encounter with a stranger. Focus on the first seven seconds. What did you feel and think? How did you "read" the other person? How do you think he read you?You are the message. For 25 years I've worked with thousands who want to be successful. I've helped them make persuasive presentations, answer unfriendly questions, communicate more effectively. The secret has always been you are the message.Others will want to be with you and help you if you use your good qualities. They include: physical appearance, energy, rate of speech, pitch and tone of voice, gestures, expression through the eyes, and the ability to hold the interest of others. Others form an impression about you based on these.Think of times when you know you made a good impression. What made you successful? You were committed to what you were talking about and so absorbed in the moment, you lost all self-consciousness.Be yourself. Many how-to books advise you to stride into a room and impress others with your qualities. They instruct you to et them with "power handshakes" and tell you to fix your eyes on the other person. If you follow all this advice, you'll drive everyone crazy —including yourself.The trick is to be consistently you, at your best. The most effective people never change from one situation to another. They’re the same whether they're having a converion, addressing their garden club or being interviewed for a job. They communicate with their whole being; the tones of their voices and their gestures match their words.Public speakers, however, often send mixed messages. My favorite is the kind who say, "Ladies and gentlemen. I'm very happy to be here" —while looking at their shoes. They don't look happy. They look angry, frightened or depressed.。

新标准大学英语综合教程3课文原文We all listen to music according to our separate capacities.But, for the sake of analysis, the whole listening process may become clearer if we break it up into its component parts, so to speak.In certain sense we all listen to music on three separate planes.For lack of a better terminology, one might name these: 1) the sensuous plane, 2) the expressive plane, 3) the sheerly musical plane.The only advantage to be gained from mechanically splitting up the listening process into these hypothetical planes is the clearer view to be had of the way in which we listen.The simplest way of listening to music is to listen for the sheer pleasure of the musical sound itself.That is the sensuous plane.It is the plane on which we hear music without thinking, without considering it in any way.One turns on the radio while doing something else andabsent-mindedly bathes in the sound.A kind of brainless but attractive state of mind is engendered by the mere sound appeal of the music.The surprising thing is that many people who consider themselves qualified music lovers abuse that plane in listening.They go to concerts in order to lose themselves.They use music as a consolation or an escape.They enter an ideal world where one doesn’t have to think of the realities of everyday life.Of course they aren’t thinking about the music either.Music allows them to leave it, and they go off to a place to dream, dreaming because of and apropos of the music yet never quite listening to it.Yes, the sound appeal of music is a potent and primitive force, but you must not allow it to usurp a disproportionate share of your interest.The sensuous plane is an important one in music, a very important one, but it does not constitute the whole story.The second plane on which music exists is what I have called the expressive one.Here, immediately, we tread on controversial posers have a way of shying away from any discussion of m usic’s expressive side.Did not Stravinsky himself proclaim that his music was an “object”, a “thing”, with a life of its own, and with no other meaning than its own purely musical existence?This intransigent attitude of Stravinsky’s may be due to the fact that so many people have tried to read different meanings into so many pieces.Heaven knows it is difficult enough to say precisely what it is that a piece of music means, to say it definitely to say it finally so that everyone is satisfied with your explanation.But that should not lead one to the other extreme of denying to music the right to be “expressive”.Listen, if you can,to the 48 fugue themes of Bach’s Well-tempered Clavichore.Listen to each theme, one after another.You will soon realize that each theme mirrors a different world of feeling.You will also soon realize that the more beautiful a theme seems to you the harder it is to find any word that will describe it to your complete satisfaction.Yes, you will certainly know whether it is a gay theme or a sad one.You will be able, on other words, in your own mind, to draw a frame of emotional feeling around your theme.Now study the sad one a little closer.Try to pin down the exact quality of its sadness.Is it pessimistically sad or resignedly sad; is it fatefully sad or smilingly sad?Let us suppose that you are fortunate and can describe to your own satisfaction in so many words the exact meaning of your chosen theme.There is still no guarantee that anyone else will be satisfied.Nor need theybe.The important thing is that each one feels for himself the specific expressive quality of a theme or, similarly, an entire piece of music.And if it is a great work of art, don’t expect it to mean exactly the same thing to you each time you return to it.The third plane on which music exists is the sheerly musical plane.Besides the pleasurable sound of music and the expressive feeling that it gives off, music does exist in terms of the notes themselves and of their manipulation.Most listeners are not sufficiently conscious of this third plane.It is very important for all of us to become more alive to music on its sheerly musical plane.After all, an actual musical material is being used.The intelligent listener must be prepared to increase his awareness of the musical material and what happens to it.He must hear the melodies, the rhythms, the harmonies, the tone colors in a more conscious fashion.But above all he must, in order to follow the line of the composer’s thought, know something of the principles of musical form.Listening to all of these elements is listening to the sheerly musical plane.Let me repeat that I have split up mechanically the three separate planes on which we listen merely for the sake of greater clarity. Actually, we never listen on one or the other of these planes.What we do is to correlate them—listening in all three ways at the same time.It takes no mental effort, for we do it instinctively Perhaps an analogy with what happens to us when we visit the theater will make this instinctive correlation clearer.In the theater, you are aware of the actors and actresses, costumes and sets, sounds and movements.All these give one the sense that the theater is a pleasant place to be in.They constitute the sensuous plane in our theatrical reactions.The expressive plane in the theater would be derived from the feeling that you get from what is happening on the stage.You are moved to pity, excitement, or gaiety.It is this general feeling, generated aside from the particular words being spoken, a certain emotional something which exists on the stage,that isanalogous to the expressive quality in music.The plot and plot development is equivalent to our sheerly musical plane.The playwright creates and develops a character in just the same way that a composer creates and develops a theme.According to the degree of your awareness of the way in which the artist in either field handles his material will you become a more intelligent listener.It is easy enough to see that the theatergoer never is conscious of any of these elements separately.He is aware of them all at the same time.The same is true of music listening.We simultaneously and without thinking listen on all three planes.It is not surprising that modern children tend to look blank and dispirited when i nformed that they will someday have to “go to work andmake a living”. The problem is that they cannot visualize what work is in corporate Am erica.Not so long ago, when a parent said he was off to work, the child knew very well what was about to happen. His parent was going to make something or fix something. T he parent could take his offspring to his place of business and let him watch while he re paired a buggy or built a table.When a child asked, “What kind of work do you do, Daddy?” his father could an swer in terms that a child could come to grips with, such as “I fix steam engines” or “I make horse collars.Well, a few fathers still fix steam engines and build tables, but most do not. Nowa days, most fathers sit in glass buildings doing things that are absolutely incomprehensib le to children. The answers they give when asked, “What kind of work do you do, Dadd y?” are likely to be utterlymystifying to a child.”I sell space””I do market research.”,”I am a data processor.””I am in public rel ations.””I am a systems analyst” Suchexplanations must seem nonsense to a child. How can he possibly envision anyone analy zing a system or researching a market?Even grown men who do market research have trouble visualizing what a public relations man does with his day, and it is a safe bet that the average systems analyst is as baffled about what a space salesman does at the shop as the average space salesman is about the tools needed to analyze a system.In the common everyday job, nothing is made any more. Things are now made b y machines. Very little is repaired. The machines that makethings make them in such a fashion that they will quickly fall apart in such a way that r epairs will be prohibitively expensive. Thus the buyer isencouraged to throw the thing away and buy a new one. In effect, the machines are mak ing junk.The handful of people remotely associated withthese machines can, of course, tell their inquisitive children “Daddy makes junk”. Most of the workforce, however, is too remote from junkproduction to sense any contribution to the industry. What do these people do?Consider the typical 12-story glass building in the typical American city. Nothing is being made in this building and nothing is being repaired, including the building its elf. Constructed as a piece of junk, the building will be discarded when it wears out, a nd another piece of junk will be set in its place.Still, the building is filled with people who think of themselves as working. At a ny given moment during the day perhaps one-third of them will be talking into teleph ones. Most of these conversations will be about paper, for paper is what occupies nearl y everyone in this building. Somejobs in the building require men to fill paper with words. There are persons who type neatly on paper and persons who read paper and jot notes in the margins. Some perso ns make copies of paper and other persons deliver paper. There are persons who file p aper and persons who unfile paper.Some persons mail paper. Some persons telephone other persons and ask that p aper be sent to them. Others telephone to ascertain thewhereabouts of paper. Some persons confer about paper. In the grandest offices, men approve of some paper and disapprove of other paper.The elevators are filled throughout the day with young men carrying paper fro m floor to floor and with vital men carrying paper to bediscussed with other vital men.What is a child to make of all this? His father may be so eminent that he lunche s with other men about paper. Suppose he brings his son towork to give the boy some idea of what work is all about. What does the boy see hap pening?His father calls for paper. He reads paper. Perhaps he scowls at paper. Perhaps he makes an angry red mark on paper. He telephones another man and says they had better lunch over paper.At lunch they talk about paper. Back at the office, the father orders the paper r etyped and reproduced in quintuplicate, and then sent toanother man for comparison with paper that was reproduced in triplicate last year.Imagine his poor son afterwards mulling over the mysteries of work with a frie nd, who asks him, ”What’s your father do?” What can the boy reply? “It beats me,” p erhaps, if he is not very observant. Or if he is, “Somethi ng that has to do with making junk, I think. Same as everybodyelse.”It was snowing heavily, and although every true New Yorker looks forward to a white Christmas, the shoppers on Fifth Avenue were in a hurry, not just to track down the last-minute presents, but to escape the bitter cold and get home with their families for Christmas Eve.Josh Lester turned into 46th Street. He was not yet enjoying the Christmas spirit, because he was still at work, albeit a working dinner at Joanne's. Josh was black, in his early thirties, and an agreeable-looking person, dressed smartly but not expensively. He was from a hard-working family in upstate Virginia, and was probably happiest back home in his parents' house. But his demeanor concealed a Harvard law degree and an internship in DC with a congressman, a junior partnership in a New York law firm, along with a razor-sharp intellect and an ability to think on his feet. Josh was very smart.The appointment meant Josh wouldn't get home until after Christmas. He was not, however, unhappy. He was meeting Jo Rogers, the senior senator for Connecticut, and one of the best-known faces in the US. Senator Rogers was a Democrat in her third term of office, who knew Capitol Hill inside out but who had nevertheless managed to keep her credibility with her voters as a Washington outsider. She was pro-abortion, anti-corruption, pro-low carbon emissions and anti-capital punishment, as fine a progressive liberal as you could find this side of the Atlantic. Talk show hosts called her Honest Senator Jo, and a couple of years ago, Time magazine had her in the running for Woman of the Year. It was election time in the following year, and the word was she was going to run for the Democratic nomination. Rogers had met Josh in DC, thought him highly competent, and had invited him to dinner.Josh shivered as he checked the address on the slip of paper in his hand. He'd never been to Joanne's, but knew it by reputation, not because of its food, which had often been maligned, or its jazz orchestra, which had a guest slot for awell-known movie director who played trumpet, but because of the stellar quality of its sophisticated guests: politicians, diplomats, movie actors, hall-of-fame athletes, journalists, writers, rock stars and Nobel Prize winners – in short, anyone who was anyone in this city of power brokers.Josh told him, and although the waiter refrained from curling his lip, he managed to show both disdain and effortless superiority with a simple flaring of his nostrils.“Yes, Senator, please come this way,” and as Senator Rogers passed through the crowded room, heads turned as the diners recognized her and greeted her with silent applause. In a classless society, Rogers was the closest thing to aristocracy that America had. Alberto hovered for a moment, then went to speak to a colleague.After two hours, Rogers and Josh got up to leave. There was a further flurry of attention by the staff, including an offer by Alberto to waive payment of the bill, which Rogers refused. As they were putting on their coats, Rogers said, “Thank you, Alberto. Oh, have I introduced you to my companion, Josh Lester?”A look of panic, followed by one of desperate optimism flashed across Alberto's face.“Ah, not yet, no, ... not properly, ” he said weakly.“Josh Lester. This is the latest recruit to my election campaign. He's going to be my new deputy campaign manager, in charge of raising donations. And if we get that Republican out of the White House next year, you've just met my Chief of Staff.”It came as if from nowhere.There were about two dozen of us by the bank of elevators on the 35th floor of the north tower of the World Trade Center. We were firefighters, mostly, and we were in various stages of exhaustion. Some guys were sweating like pigs. Some had their turnout coats off, or tied around their waists. Quite a few were breathing heavily. Others were raring to go. All of us were taking a beat to catch our breaths, and our bearings, figure out what the hell was going on. We'd been at this thing, hard, for almost an hour, some a little bit less, and we were nowhere close to done. Of course, we had no idea what there was left to do, but we hadn't made a dent.And then the noise started, and the building began to tremble, and we all froze. Dead solid still. Whatever there had been left to do would now have to wait. For what, we had no idea, but it would wait. Or, it wouldn't, but that wasn't the point. The point was that no one was moving. To a man, no one moved, except to lift his eyes to the ceiling, to see where the racket was coming from. As if we could see clear through the ceiling tiles for an easy answer. No one spoke. There wasn't time to turn thought into words, even though there was time to think. For me anyway, there was time to think, too much time to think, and my thoughts were all over the place. Every possibleworst-case scenario, and a few more besides. The building was shaking like in an earthquake, like an amusement park thrill ride gone berserk, but it was the rumble that struck me still with fear. The sheer volume of it. The way it coursed right through me. I couldn't think what the hell would make a noise like that. Like a thousand runaway trains speeding towards me. Like a herd of wild beasts. Like the thunder of a rockslide. Hard to put it into words, but whatever the hell it was it was gaining speed, and gathering force, and getting closer, and I was stuck in the middle, unable to get out of its path.It's amazing, the kind of thing you think about when there should be no time to think. I thought about my wife and my kids, but only fleetingly and not in any kind of life-flashing-before-my-eyes sort of way. I thought about the job, how close I was to making deputy. I thought about the bagels I had left on the kitchen counter back at the firehouse. I thought how we firemen were always saying to each other, "I'll see you at the big one." Or, "We'll all meet at the big one." I never knew how it started, or when I'd picked up on it myself, but it was part of our shorthand.Meaning, no matter how big this fire is, there'll be another one bigger, somewhere down the road. We'll make it through this one, and we'll make it through that one, too. I always said it, at big fires, and I always heard it back, and here I was, thinking I would never say or hear these words again, because there would never be another fire as big as this. This was the big one we had all talked about, all our lives, and if I hadn't known this before –just before these chilling moments – this sick, black noise now confirmed it.I fumbled for some fix on the situation, thinking maybe if I understood what was happening I could steel myself against it. All of these thoughts were landing in my brain in a kind of flashpoint, one on top of the other and all at once, but there they were. And each thought landed fully formed, as if there might be time to act on each, when in truth there was no time at all.Richard Picciotto (also known as Pitch) was in the north tower of the World Trade Center when it collapsed in theaftermath of the massive terrorist attack on 11 September 2001. A battalion commander for the New York Fire Department, he was on the scene of the disaster within minutes of the attack, to lead seven companies of firefighters into the tower to help people trapped and to extinguish fires blazing everywhere.The north tower was the first of the twin towers to be hit. It was followed 17 minutes later by the south tower. The south tower, however, was the first to collapse, at 9:59 am. At that moment, Picciotto was in the north tower, racing upwards by the stairs because the elevators were out of action. He then gave the order to evacuate. On the 12th story he came across 50 people amid the debris, too badly hurt or frightened to move. Picciotto and his men helped them down. When he reached the seventh floor, the tower fell, and he was buried beneath thousands of tons of rubble. He eventually came round four hours later, leading his men to safety.Picciotto was the highest ranking firefighter to survive the attack. The chief of the department, the first deputy and the chief of rescue operations had all been killed. Altogether the death toll included 343 firefighters and more than 3,000 civilians.Toast always lands butter side down. It always rains on bank holidays. You never win the lottery, but other people you know seem to ... Do you ever get the impression that you were born unlucky? Even the most rational person can be convinced at times that there is a force out there making mishaps occur at the worst possible time. We all like to believe that Murphy's Law is true。

新标准大学英语综合教程3课文原文新标准大学英语综合教程3课文原文We all listen to music according to our separate capacities.But, for the sake of analysis, the whole listening process may become clearer if we break it up into its component parts, so to speak.In certain sense we all listen to music on three separate planes.For lack of a better terminology, one might name these: 1) the sensuous plane, 2) the expressive plane, 3) the sheerly musical plane.The only advantage to be gained from mechanically splitting up the listening process into these hypothetical planes is the clearer view to be had of the way in which we listen.The simplest way of listening to music is to listen for the sheer pleasure of the musical sound itself.That is the sensuous plane.It is the plane on which we hear music without thinking, without considering it in any way.One turns on the radio while doing something else andabsent-mindedly bathes in the sound.A kind of brainless but attractive state of mind is engendered by the mere sound appeal of the music.The surprising thing is that many people who consider themselves qualified music lovers abuse that plane in listening.They go to concerts in order to lose themselves.They use music as a consolation or an escape.They enter an ideal world where one doesn’t have to think of the realities of everyday life.Of course they aren’t thinking about the music either.Music allows them to leave it, and they go off to a place to dream, dreaming because of and apropos of the music yet never quite listening to it.Yes, the sound appeal of music is a potent and primitive force,but you must not allow it to usurp a disproportionate share of your interest.The sensuous plane is an important one in music, a very important one, but it does not constitute the whole story.The second plane on which music exists is what I have called the expressive one.Here, immediately, we tread on controversial /doc/c315869164.html,posers have a way of shying away fro m any discussion of m usic’s expressive side.Did not Stravinsky himself proclaim that his music was an “object”, a “thing”, with a life of its own, and with no other meaning than its own purely musical existence?This intransigent attitude of Stravinsky’s m ay be due to the fact that so many people have tried to read different meanings into so many pieces.Heaven knows it is difficult enough to say precisely what it is that a piece of music means, to say it definitely to say it finally so that everyone is satisfied with your explanation.But that should not lead one to the other extreme of denying to music the right to be “expressive”.Listen, if you can,to the 48 fugue themes of Bach’s Well-tempered Clavichore.Listen to each theme, one after another.You will soon realize that each theme mirrors a different world of feeling.You will also soon realize that the more beautiful a theme seems to you the harder it is to find any word that will describe it to your complete satisfaction.Yes, you will certainly know whether it is a gay theme or a sad one.You will be able, on other words, in your own mind, to draw a frame of emotional feeling around your theme.Now study the sad one a little closer.Try to pin down the exact quality of its sadness.Is it pessimistically sad or resignedly sad; is it fatefully sad or smilingly sad?Let us suppose that you are fortunate and can describe to your own satisfaction in so many words the exact meaning ofyour chosen theme.There is still no guarantee that anyone else will be satisfied.Nor need theybe.The important thing is that each one feels for himself the specific expressive quality of a theme or, similarly, an entire piece of music.And if it is a great work of art, don’t expect it to mean exactly the same thing to you each time you return to it.The third plane on which music exists is the sheerly musical plane.Besides the pleasurable sound of music and the expressive feeling that it gives off, music does exist in terms of the notes themselves and of their manipulation.Most listeners are not sufficiently conscious of this third plane.It is very important for all of us to become more alive to music on its sheerly musical plane.After all, an actual musical material is being used.The intelligent listener must be prepared to increase his awareness of the musical material and what happens to it.He must hear the melodies, the rhythms, the harmonies, the tone colors in a more conscious fashion.But above all he must, in order to follow the line of the composer’s thought, know something of the principles of musical form.Listening to all of these elements is listening to the sheerly musical plane.Let me repeat that I have split up mechanically the three separate planes on which we listen merely for the sake of greater clarity. Actually, we never listen on one or the other of these planes.What we do is to correlate them—listening in all three ways at the same time.It takes no mental effort, for we do it instinctively Perhaps an analogy with what happens to us when we visit the theater will make this instinctive correlation clearer.In the theater, you are aware of the actors and actresses, costumes and sets, sounds and movements.All these give one the sensethat the theater is a pleasant place to be in.They constitute the sensuous plane in our theatrical reactions.The expressive plane in the theater would be derived from the feeling that you get from what is happening on the stage.You are moved to pity, excitement, or gaiety.It is this general feeling, generated aside from the particular words being spoken, a certain emotional something which exists on the stage,that isanalogous to the expressive quality in music.The plot and plot development is equivalent to our sheerly musical plane.The playwright creates and develops a character in just the same way that a composer creates and develops a theme.According to the degree of your awareness of the way in which the artist in either field handles his material will you become a more intelligent listener.It is easy enough to see that the theatergoer never is conscious of any of these elements separately.He is aware of them all at the same time.The same is true of music listening.We simultaneously and without thinking listen on all three planes.It is not surprising that modern children tend to look blank and dispirited when i nformed that they will someday have to “go to work andmake a living”. The problem is that they cannot visualize what work is in corporate Am erica.Not so long ago, when a parent said he was off to work, the child knew very well what was about to happen. His parent was going to make something or fix something. T he parent could take his offspring to his place of business and let him watch while he re paired a buggy or built a table.When a child asked, “What kind of work do you do, Daddy?” his father could an swer in terms that a child could come to gripswith, such as “I fix steam engines” or “I make horse collars.Well, a few fathers still fix steam engines and build tables, but most do not. Nowa days, most fathers sit in glass buildings doing things that are absolutely incomprehensib le to children. The answers they give when asked, “What kind of work do you do, Dadd y?” are likely to be utterlymystifying to a child.”I sell space””I do market research.”,”I am a data processor.””I am in public rel ations.””I am a systems analyst” Suchexplanations must seem nonsense to a child. How can he possibly envision anyone analy zing a system or researching a market?Even grown men who do market research have trouble visualizing what a public relations man does with his day, and it is a safe bet that the average systems analyst is as baffled about what a space salesman does at the shop as the average space salesman is about the tools needed to analyze a system.In the common everyday job, nothing is made any more. Things are now made b y machines. Very little is repaired. The machines that makethings make them in such a fashion that they will quickly fall apart in such a way that r epairs will be prohibitively expensive. Thus the buyer isencouraged to throw the thing away and buy a new one. In effect, the machines are mak ing junk.The handful of people remotely associated withthese machines can, of course, tell their inquisitive children “Daddy makes junk”. Most of the workforce, however, is too remote from junkproduction to sense any contribution to the industry. What do these people do?Consider the typical 12-story glass building in the typical American city. Nothing is being made in this building and nothing is being repaired, including the building its elf. Constructed as a piece of junk, the building will be discarded when it wears out, a nd another piece of junk will be set in its place.Still, the building is filled with people who think of themselves as working. At a ny given moment during the day perhaps one-third of them will be talking into teleph ones. Most of these conversations will be about paper, for paper is what occupies nearl y everyone in this building. Somejobs in the building require men to fill paper with words. There are persons who type neatly on paper and persons who read paper and jot notes in the margins. Some perso ns make copies of paper and other persons deliver paper. There are persons who file p aper and persons who unfile paper.Some persons mail paper. Some persons telephone other persons and ask that p aper be sent to them. Others telephone to ascertain thewhereabouts of paper. Some persons confer about paper. In the grandest offices, men approve of some paper and disapprove of other paper.The elevators are filled throughout the day with young men carrying paper fro m floor to floor and with vital men carrying paper to bediscussed with other vital men.What is a child to make of all this? His father may be so eminent that he lunche s with other men about paper. Supposehe brings his son towork to give the boy some idea of what work is all about. What does the boy see hap pening?His father calls for paper. He reads paper. Perhaps he scowls at paper. Perhaps he makes an angry red mark on paper. He telephones another man and says they had better lunch over paper.At lunch they talk about paper. Back at the office, the father orders the paper r etyped and reproduced in quintuplicate, and then sent toanother man for comparison with paper that was reproduced in triplicate last year.Imagine his poor son afterwards mulling over the mysteries of work with a frie nd, who asks him, ”What’s your father do?” What can the boy reply? “It beats me,” p erhaps, if he is not very observant. Or if he is, “Somethi ng that has to do with making junk, I think. Same as everybodyelse.”It was snowing heavily, and although every true New Yorker looks forward to a white Christmas, the shoppers on Fifth Avenue were in a hurry, not just to track down the last-minute presents, but to escape the bitter cold and get home with their families for Christmas Eve.Josh Lester turned into 46th Street. He was not yet enjoying the Christmas spirit, because he was still at work, albeit a working dinner at Joanne's. Josh was black, in his early thirties, and an agreeable-looking person, dressed smartly but not expensively. He was from a hard-working family in upstate Virginia, and was probably happiest back home in his parents' house. But his demeanor concealed a Harvard law degree and an internship inDC with a congressman, a junior partnership in a New York law firm, along with a razor-sharp intellect and an ability to think on his feet. Josh was very smart.The appointment meant Josh wouldn't get home until after Christmas. He was not, however, unhappy. He was meeting Jo Rogers, the senior senator for Connecticut, and one of the best-known faces in the US. Senator Rogers was a Democrat in her third term of office, who knew Capitol Hill inside out but who had nevertheless managed to keep her credibility with her voters as a Washington outsider. She was pro-abortion, anti-corruption, pro-low carbon emissions and anti-capital punishment, as fine a progressive liberal as you could find this side of the Atlantic. Talk show hosts called her Honest Senator Jo, and a couple of years ago, Time magazine had her in the running for Woman of the Year. It was election time in the following year, and the word was she was going to run for the Democratic nomination. Rogers had met Josh in DC, thought him highly competent, and had invited him to dinner.Josh shivered as he checked the address on the slip of paper in his hand. He'd never been to Joanne's, but knew it by reputation, not because of its food, which had often been maligned, or its jazz orchestra, which had a guest slot for a well-known movie director who played trumpet, but because of the stellar quality of its sophisticated guests: politicians, diplomats, movie actors, hall-of-fame athletes, journalists, writers, rock stars and Nobel Prize winners – in short, anyone who was anyone in this city of power brokers.Josh told him, and although the waiter refrained from curling his lip, he managed to show both disdain and effortless superiority with a simple flaring of his nostrils.“Yes, Senator, please come this way,” and as Senator Rogers passed through the crowded room, heads turned as the diners recognized her and greeted her with silent applause. In a classless society, Rogers was the closest thing to aristocracy that America had. Alberto hovered for a moment, then went to speak to a colleague.After two hours, Rogers and Josh got up to leave. There was a further flurry of attention by the staff, including an offer by Alberto to waive payment of the bill, which Rogers refused. As they were putting on their coats, Rogers said, “Thank you, Alberto. Oh, have I introduced you to my companion, Josh Lester?”A look of panic, followed by one of desperate optimism flashed across Alberto's face.“Ah, not yet, no, ... not properly, ” he said weakly.“Josh Lester. This is the latest recruit to my election campaign. He's going to be my new deputy campaign manager, in charge of raising donations. And if we get that Republican out of the White House next year, you've just met my Chief of Staff.”It came as if from nowhere.There were about two dozen of us by the bank of elevators on the 35th floor of the north tower of the World Trade Center. We were firefighters, mostly, and we were in various stages of exhaustion. Some guys were sweating like pigs. Some had their turnout coats off, or tied around their waists. Quite a few were breathing heavily. Others were raring to go. All of us were taking a beat to catch our breaths, and our bearings, figure out what the hell was going on. We'd been at this thing, hard, for almost an hour, some a little bit less, and we were nowhere close to done. Of course, we had no idea what there was left to do, but wehadn't made a dent.And then the noise started, and the building began to tremble, and we all froze. Dead solid still. Whatever there had been left to do would now have to wait. For what, we had no idea, but it would wait. Or, it wouldn't, but that wasn't the point. The point was that no one was moving. To a man, no one moved, except to lift his eyes to the ceiling, to see where the racket was coming from. As if we could see clear through the ceiling tiles for an easy answer. No one spoke. There wasn't time to turn thought into words, even though there was time to think. For me anyway, there was time to think, too much time to think, and my thoughts were all over the place. Every possibleworst-case scenario, and a few more besides. The building was shaking like in an earthquake, like an amusement park thrill ride gone berserk, but it was the rumble that struck me still with fear. The sheer volume of it. The way it coursed right through me.I couldn't think what the hell would make a noise like that. Like a thousand runaway trains speeding towards me. Like a herd of wild beasts. Like the thunder of a rockslide. Hard to put it into words, but whatever the hell it was it was gaining speed, and gathering force, and getting closer, and I was stuck in the middle, unable to get out of its path.It's amazing, the kind of thing you think about when there should be no time to think. I thought about my wife and my kids, but only fleetingly and not in any kind of life-flashing-before-my-eyes sort of way. I thought about the job, how close I was to making deputy. I thought about the bagels I had left on the kitchen counter back at the firehouse. I thought how we firemen were always saying to each other, "I'll see you at the big one." Or, "We'll all meet at the big one." I never knew how it started, orwhen I'd picked up on it myself, but it was part of our shorthand.Meaning, no matter how big this fire is, there'll be another one bigger, somewhere down the road. We'll make it through this one, and we'll make it through that one, too. I always said it, at big fires, and I always heard it back, and here I was, thinking I would never say or hear these words again, because there would never be another fire as big as this. This was the big one we had all talked about, all our lives, and if I hadn't known this before –just before these chilling moments – this sick, black noise now confirmed it.I fumbled for some fix on the situation, thinking maybe if I understood what was happening I could steel myself against it. All of these thoughts were landing in my brain in a kind of flashpoint, one on top of the other and all at once, but there they were. And each thought landed fully formed, as if there might be time to act on each, when in truth there was no time at all.Richard Picciotto (also known as Pitch) was in the north tower of the World Trade Center when it collapsed in theaftermath of the massive terrorist attack on 11 September 2001. A battalion commander for the New York Fire Department, he was on the scene of the disaster within minutes of the attack, to lead seven companies of firefighters into the tower to help people trapped and to extinguish fires blazing everywhere.The north tower was the first of the twin towers to be hit. It was followed 17 minutes later by the south tower. The south tower, however, was the first to collapse, at 9:59 am. At that moment, Picciotto was in the north tower, racing upwards by the stairs because the elevators were out of action. He then gave the order to evacuate. On the 12th story he came across 50 people amid the debris, too badly hurt or frightened to move. Picciottoand his men helped them down. When he reached the seventh floor, the tower fell, and he was buried beneath thousands of tons of rubble. He eventually came round four hours later, leading his men to safety.Picciotto was the highest ranking firefighter to survive the attack. The chief of the department, the first deputy and the chief of rescue operations had all been killed. Altogether the death toll included 343 firefighters and more than 3,000 civilians.。

Unit 1The idea of becoming a writer had come to me off and on since my childhood in Belleville, but it wasn't until my third year in high school that the possibility took hold. Until then I'd been bored by everything associated with English courses. I found English grammar dull and difficult. I hated the assignments to turn out long, lifeless paragraphs that were agony for teachers to read and for me to write.When our class was assigned to Mr. Fleagle for third-year English I anticipated another cheerless year in that most tedious of subjects. Mr. Fleagle had a reputation among students for dullness and inability to inspire. He was said to be very formal, rigid and hopelessly out of date. To me he looked to be sixty or seventy and excessively prim. He wore primly severe eyeglasses, his wavy hair was primly cut and primly combed. He wore prim suits with neckties set primly against the collar buttons of his white shirts. He had a primly pointed jaw, a primly straight nose, and a prim manner of speaking that was so correct, so gentlemanly,that he seemed a comic antique.I prepared for an unfruitful year with Mr. Fleagle and for a long time was not disappointed. Late in the year we tackled the informal essay. Mr. Fleagle distributed a homework sheet offering us a choice of topics. None was quite so simple-minded as "What I Did on My Summer Vacation," but most seemed to be almost as dull. I took the list home and did nothing until the night before the essay was due. Lying on the sofa, I finally faced up to the unwelcome task, took the list out of my notebook, and scanned it. The topic on which my eye stopped was "The Art of Eating Spaghetti."This title produced an extraordinary sequence of mental images. Vivid memories came flooding back of a night in Belleville when all of us were seated around the supper table —Uncle Allen, my mother, Uncle Charlie, Doris, Uncle Hal — and Aunt Pat served spaghetti for supper. Spaghetti was still a little known foreign dish in those days. Neither Doris nor I had ever eaten spaghetti, and none of the adults had enough experience to be good at it. All the good humor of Uncle Allen's house reawoke in my mind as I recalled the laughingarguments we had that night about the socially respectable method for moving spaghetti from plate to mouth.Suddenly I wanted to write about that, about the warmth and good feeling of it, but I wanted to put it down simply for my own joy, not for Mr. Fleagle. It was a moment I wanted to recapture and hold for myself. I wanted to relive the pleasure of that evening. To write it as I wanted, however, would violate all the rules of formal composition I'd learned in school, and Mr. Fleagle would surely give it a failing grade. Never mind.I would write something else for Mr. Fleagle after I had written this thing for myself.When I finished it the night was half gone and there was no time left to compose a proper, respectable essay for Mr. Fleagle. There was no choice next morning but to turn in my tale of the Belleville supper. Two days passed before Mr. Fleagle returned the graded papers, and he returned everyone's but mine. I was preparing myself for a command to report to Mr. Fleagle immediately after school for discipline when I saw him lift my paper from his desk and knock for the class'sattention."Now, boys," he said. "I want to read you an essay. This is titled, 'The Art of Eating Spaghetti.'"And he started to read. My words! He was reading my words out loud to the entire class. What's more, the entire class was listening. Listening attentively. Then somebody laughed, then the entire class was laughing, and not in contempt and ridicule, but with open-hearted enjoyment. Even Mr. Fleagle stopped two or three times to hold back a small prim smile.I did my best to avoid showing pleasure, but what I was feeling was pure delight at this demonstration that my words had the power to make people laugh. In the eleventh grade, at the eleventh hour as it were, I had discovered a calling. It was the happiest moment of my entire school career. When Mr. Fleagle finished he put the final seal on my happiness by saying, "Now that, boys, is an essay, don't you see. It's —don't you see —it's of the very essence of the essay, don't you see. Congratulations, Mr. Baker."(797 words)Unit 2He must have been completely lost in something he was reading because I had to tap on the windshield to get his attention."Is your cab available" I asked when he finally looked up at me. He nodded, then said apologetically as I settled into the back seat, "I'm sorry, but I was reading a letter." He sounded as if he had a cold or something."I'm in no hurry," I told him. "Go ahead and finish your letter."He shook his head. "I've read it several times already.I guess I almost know it by heart.""Letters from home always mean a lot," I said. "At least they do with me because I'm on the road so much." Then, estimating that he was 60 or 70 years old, I guessed: "From a child or maybe a grandchild""This isn't family," he replied. "Although," he went on, "come to think of it", it might just as well have been family. Old Ed was my oldest friend. In fact, we used to call each other 'Old Friend' —when we'd meet, that is. I'm not much of a hand at writing.""I don't think any of us keep up our correspondence toowell," I said. "I know I don't. But I take it he's someone you've known quite a while""All my life, practically. We were kids together, so we go way back.""Went to school together""All the way through high school. We were in the same class, in fact, through both grade and high school." "There are not too many people who've had such a long friendship," I said."Actually," the driver went on, "I hadn't seen him more than once or twice a year over the past 25 or 30 years because I moved away from the old neighborhood and you kind of lose touch even though you never forget. He was a great guy.""You said 'was'. Does that mean —"He nodded. "Died a couple of weeks ago.""I'm sorry," I said. "It's no fun to lose any friend — and losing a real old one is even tougher."He didn't reply to that, and we rode on in silence for a few minutes. But I realized that Old Ed was still on his mind when he spoke again, almost more to himself than to me: "I should have kept in touch. Yes," herepeated, "I should have kept in touch.""Well," I agreed, "we should all keep in touch with old friends more than we do. But things come up and we just don't seem to find the time."He shrugged. "We used to find the time," he said. "That's even mentioned in the letter." He handed it over to me. "Take a look.""Thanks," I said, "but I don't want to read your mail. That's pretty personal."The driver shrugged. "Old Ed's dead. There's nothing personal now. Go ahead," he urged me.The letter was written in pencil. It began with the greeting "Old Friend," and the first sentence reminded me of myself. I've been meaning to write for some time, but I've always postponed it. It then went on to say that he often thought about the good times they had had together when they both lived in the same neighborhood. It had references to things that probably meant something to the driver, such as the time Tim Shea broke the window, the Halloween that we tied Old Mr. Parker's gate, and when Mrs. Culver used to keep us after school."You must have spent a lot of time together," I said to him."Like it says there," he answered, "about all we had to spend in those days was time." He shook his head: "Time."I thought the next paragraph of the letter was a little sad: I began the letter with "Old Friend" because that's what we've become over the years — old friends. And there aren't many of us left."You know," I said to him, "when it says here that there aren't many of us left, that's absolutely right. Every time I go to a class reunion, for example, there are fewer and fewer still around.""Time goes by," the driver said."Did you two work at the same place" I asked him. "No, but we hung out on the same corner when we were single. And then, when we were married, we used to go to each other's house every now and then. But for the last 20 or 30 years it's been mostly just Christmas cards. Of course there'd be always a note we'd each add to the cards — usually some news about our families, you know, what the kids were doing, who moved where,a new grandchild, things like that — but never a real letter or anything like that.""This is a good part here," I said. "Where it says Your friendship over the years has meant an awful lot to me, more than I can say because I'm not good at saying things like that. " I found myself nodding in agreement. "That must have made you feel good, didn't it"The driver said something that I couldn't understand because he seemed to be all choked up, so I continued: "I know I'd like to receive a letter like that from my oldest friend."We were getting close to our destination so I skipped to the last paragraph. So I thought you'd like to know that I was thinking of you. And it was signed，Your Old Friend, Tom.I handed back the letter as we stopped at my hotel. "Enjoyed talking with you," I said as I took my suitcase out of the cab. Tom The letter was signed Tom"I thought your friend's name was Ed," I said. "Why did he sign it Tom""The letter was not from Ed to me," he explained. "I'm Tom. It's a letter I wrote to him before I knew he'ddied. So I never mailed it."He looked sort of sorrowful, or as if he were trying to see something in the distance. "I guess I should have written it sooner."When I got to my hotel room I didn't unpack right away. First I had to write a letter — and mail it. (1093 words)Unit 3Whether we like it or not, the world we live in has changed a great deal in the last hundred years, and it is likely to change even more in the next hundred. Some people would like to stop these changes and go back to what they see as a purer and simpler age. But as history shows, the past was not that wonderful. It was not so bad for a privileged minority, though even they had to do without modern medicine, and childbirth was highly risky for women. But for the vast majority of the population, life was nasty, brutish, and short. Anyway, even if one wanted to, one couldn't put the clock back to an earlier age. Knowledge and techniques can't just be forgotten. Nor can one prevent further advances in the future. Even if all government moneyfor research were cut off (and the present government is doing its best), the force of competition would still bring about advances in technology. Moreover, one cannot stop inquiring minds from thinking about basic science, whether or not they are paid for it. The only way to prevent further developments would be a global state that suppressed anything new, and human initiative and inventiveness are such that even this wouldn't succeed. All it would do is slow down the rate of change.If we accept that we cannot prevent science and technology from changing our world, we can at least try to ensure that the changes they make are in the right directions. In a democratic society, this means that the public needs to have a basic understanding of science, so that it can make informed decisions and not leave them in the hands of experts. At the moment, the public is in two minds about science. It has come to expect the steady increase in the standard of living that new developments in science and technology have brought to continue, but it also distrusts science because it doesn't understand it. This distrust isevident in the cartoon figure of the mad scientist working in his laboratory to produce a Frankenstein. It is also an important element behind support for the Green parties. But the public also has a great interest in science, particularly astronomy, as is shown by the large audiences for television series such as The Sky at Night and for science fiction.What can be done to harness this interest and give the public the scientific background it needs to make informed decisions on subjects like acid rain, the greenhouse effect, nuclear weapons, and genetic engineering Clearly, the basis must lie in what is taught in schools. But in schools science is often presented in a dry and uninteresting manner. Children learn it by rote to pass examinations, and they don't see its relevance to the world around them. Moreover, science is often taught in terms of equations. Although equations are a brief and accurate way of describing mathematical ideas, they frighten most people. When I wrote a popular book recently, I was advised that each equation I included would halve the sales. I included one equation, Einstein's famous equation, E=mc2. MaybeI would have sold twice as many copies without it. Scientists and engineers tend to express their ideas in the form of equations because they need to know the precise values of quantities. But for the rest of us, a qualitative grasp of scientific concepts is sufficient, and this can be conveyed by words and diagrams, without the use of equations.The science people learn in school can provide the basic framework. But the rate of scientific progress is now so rapid that there are always new developments that have occurred since one was at school or university.I never learned about molecular biology or transistors at school, but genetic engineering and computers are two of the developments most likely to change the way we live in the future. Popular books and magazine articles about science can help to put across new developments, but even the most successful popular book is read by only a small proportion of the population. Only television can reach a truly mass audience. There are some very good science programmes on TV, but others present scientific wonders simply as magic, without explaining them or showing how they fit into theframework of scientific ideas. Producers of television science programmes should realize that they have a responsibility to educate the public, not just entertain it.The world today is filled with dangers, hence the sick joke that the reason we have not been contacted by an alien civilization is that civilizations tend to destroy themselves when they reach our stage. But I have sufficient faith in the good sense of the public to believe that we might prove this wrong.(812 words)Unit 4He came from a rocky farm in Italy, somewhere south of Rome. How or when he got to America, I don't know. But one evening I found him standing in the driveway, behind my garage. He was about five-foot-seven or eight, and thin."I mow your lawn," he said. It was hard to comprehend his broken English.I asked him his name. "Tony Trivisonno," he replied. "I mow your lawn." I told Tony that I couldn't afford a gardener."I mow your lawn," he said again, then walked away. I went into my house unhappy. Yes, these Depression days were difficult, but how could I to turn away a person who had come to me for helpWhen I got home from work the next evening, the lawn had been mowed, the garden weeded, and the walks swept.I asked my wife what had happened."A man got the lawn mower out of the garage and worked on the yard," she answered. "I assumed you had hired him."I told her of my experience the night before. We thought it strange that he had not asked for pay.The next two days were busy, and I forgot about Tony. We were trying to rebuild our business and bring some of our workers back to the plants. But on Friday, returning home a little early, I saw Tony again, behind the garage. I complimented him on the work he had done. "I mow your lawn," he said.I managed to work out some kind of small weekly pay, and each day Tony cleaned up the yard and took care of any little tasks. My wife said he was very helpful whenever there were any heavy objects to lift or thingsto fix.Summer passed into fall, and winds blew cold. "Mr. Craw, snow pretty soon," Tony told me one evening. "When winter come, you give me job clearing snow at the factory."Well, what do you do with such determination and hope Of course, Tony got his job at the factory.The months passed. I asked the personnel department for a report. They said Tony was a very good worker.One day I found Tony at our meeting place behind the garage. "I want to be 'prentice," he said.We had a pretty good apprentice school that trained laborers. But I doubted whether Tony had the capacity to read blueprints and micrometers or do precision work. Still, how could I turn him downTony took a cut in pay to become an apprentice. Months later, I got a report that he had graduated as a skilled grinder. He had learned to read the millionths of an inch on the micrometer and to shape the grinding wheel with an instrument set with a diamond. My wife and I were delighted with what we felt was a satisfying end of the story.A year or two passed, and again I found Tony in his usual waiting place. We talked about his work, and I asked him what he wanted."Mr. Craw," he said, "I like a buy a house." On the edge of town, he had found a house for sale, a complete wreck.I called on a banker friend. "Do you ever loan money on character" I asked. "No," he said. "We can't afford to. No sale.""Now, wait a minute," I replied. "Here is a hard-working man, a man of character, I can promise you that. He's got a good job. You're not getting a damn thing from your lot. It will stay there for years. At least he will pay your interest."Reluctantly, the banker wrote a mortgage for $2,000 and gave Tony the house with no down payment. Tony was delighted. From then on, it was interesting to see that any discarded odds and ends around our place —a broken screen, a bit of hardware, boards from packing — Tony would gather and take home.After about two years, I found Tony in our familiar meeting spot. He seemed to stand a little straighter. He was heavier. He had a look of confidence."Mr. Craw, I sell my house!" he said with pride. "I got $8,000."I was amazed. "But, Tony, where are you going to live without a house""Mr. Craw, I buy a farm."We sat down and talked. Tony told me that to own a farm was his dream. He loved the tomatoes and peppers and all the other vegetables important to his Italian diet. He had sent for his wife and son and daughter back in Italy. He had hunted around the edge of town until he found a small, abandoned piece of property with a house and shed. Now he was moving his family to his farm. Sometime later. Tony arrived on a Sunday afternoon, neatly dressed. He had another Italian man with him. He told me that he had persuaded his childhood friend to move to America. Tony was sponsoring him. With an amused look in his eye, he told me that when they approached the little farm he now operated, his friend stood in amazement and said, "Tony, you are a millionaire!"Then, during the war, a message came from my company. Tony had passed away.I asked our people to check on his family and see that everything was properly handled. They found the farm green with vegetables, the little house livable and homey. There was a tractor and a good car in the yard. The children were educated and working, and Tony didn't owe a cent.After he passed away, I thought more and more about Tony's career. He grew in stature in my mind. In the end, I think he stood as tall, and as proud, as the greatest American industrialists.They had all reached their success by the same route and by the same values and principles: vision, determination, self-control, optimism, self-respect and, above all, integrity.Tony did not begin on the bottom rung of the ladder. He began in the basement. Tony's affairs were tiny; the greatest industrialists' affairs were giant. But, after all, the balance sheets were exactly the same. The only difference was where you put the decimal point. Tony Trivisonno came to America seeking the American Dream. But he didn't find it —he created it for himself. All he had were 24 precious hours a day, and he wastednone of them. (1110 words)。

The man in the water1 As disasters go, this one was terrible, but not unique, certainly not among the worst US air crashes on record2. There was the unusual element of the bridge, of course, and the fact that the plane hit it at a moment of high traffic. Then, too, there was the location of the event. Washington, the city of form and rules, turned chaotic by a blast of real winter and a single slap of metal on metal. The jets from Washington National Airport that normally fly around the presidential monuments like hungry gulls are, for the moment represented by the one that fell. And there was the aesthetic clash as well—blue-and-green Air Florida, the name of a flying garden, to be sure. Still, there was nothing very special in any of it, expect death, which while always special, does not necessarily bring the nation to tears or to attention. Why, then, the shock here?2 Perhaps because the nation saw in this disaster something more than a mechanical failure. Perhaps because people saw in it no failure at all, but rather something successful about themselves. Here, after all, were two forms of nature in collision, the elements and human character. Last Wednesday, the elements, indifferent as ever, brought down Flight 90. And on that same afternoon, human nature—groping and struggling—rose to the occasion.3 Of the four acknowledged heroes of the event, three are able to account for their behavior. Donald Usher and Eugene Windsor, a park police helicopter team, risked their lives every time they dipped their skids into the water to pick up survivors. On television, side by side, they described their courage as all in the line of duty. Lenny Skutnik, a 28-year-old employee of the Congressional Budget Office, said: ”It’s something I never thought I would do”—referring to his jumping into the water to drag an injur ed woman to shore. Skutnik added that “somebody had to go in the water,” delivering every hero’s line that is no less admirable for being repeated. In fact, nobody had to go into the water. That somebody actually did so is part of the reason this particular tragedy sticks in the mind.4 But the person most responsible for the emotional impact of the disaster is the one known at first simply as “the man in the water.” Balding, probably in his 50s, a huge mustache. He was seen clinging with five other survivors to the tail section of the airplane. This man was describedby Usher and Windsor as appearing alert and in control. Every time they lowered a lifeline and flotation ring to him, he passed it on to another of the passengers. “In a mass casualty, you’ll find people like him,” said Windsor. “But I’ve never seen one with that commitment.” When the helicopter came back for him, the man had gone under. His selflessness was one reason the story held national attention; his anonymity another. The fact that he went unidentified gave him a universal character. For a while he was Everyman, and thus proof (as if one needed it) that no man is ordinary.5 Still, he could never have imagined such a capacity in himself. Only minutes before his character was tested, he was sitting in the ordinary plane among the ordinary passengers, dutifully listening to the stewardess telling him to fasten his seat belt and saying something about the “no smoking sign.” So our man relaxed with the others, some of whom would owe their lives to him. Perhaps he started to read, or to doze, or to regret some harsh remark made in the office that morning. Then suddenly he knew that the trip would not be ordinary. Like every other person on that flight, he was desperate to live, which makes his final act so stunning.6 For at some moment in the water he must have realized that he would not live if he continued to hand over the rope and ring to others. He had to know it, no matter how gradual the effect of the cold. He felt he had no choice. When the helicopter took off with what was to be the last survivor, he watched everything in the world move away from him, and he let it happen.7 Yet there was something else about our man that kept our thoughts on him, and which keeps our thoughts on him still. He was there, in the essential, classic circumstance. Man in nature. The man in the water. For its part, nature cared nothing about the five passengers. Our man, on the other hand, cared totally. So age-old battle began again in the Potomac. For as long as that man could last, they went at each other, nature and man; the one making no distinctions of good and evil, acting on no principles, offering no lifelines; the other acting wholly on distinctions, principles and, perhaps, on faith.8 Since it was he who lost the fight, we ought to come again to the conclusion that people are powerless in the world. In reality, we believe the opposite, and it takes the act of the man inthe water to remind us of our true feelings in this matter. It is not to say that everyone would have acted as he did, or as Usher, Windsor and Skutnik. Yet whatever moved these men to challenge death on behalf of their fellows is not peculiar to them. Everyone feels the possibility in himself. That is the enduring wonder of the story. That is why we would not let go of it. If the man in the water gave a lifeline to the people gasping for survival, he was likewise giving a lifeline to those who watched him.9 The odd thing is that we do not even really believe that the man in the water lost his fight. “Everything in Nature contains all the powers of Nature.” said Emerson. Exactly. The man in the water had his own natural powers. He could not make ice storms, or freeze the water until it froze the blood. But he could hand life over to a stranger, and that is a power of nature too. The man in the water set himself against an immovable, impersonal enemy; he fought it with kindness and he held it to a standoff. He was the best we can do.。

Unit 1The idea of becoming a writer had come to me off and on since my childhood in Belleville, but it wasn't until my third year in high school that the possibility took hold. Until then I'd been bored by everything associated with English courses. I found English grammar dull and difficult. I hated the assignments to turn out long, lifeless paragraphs that were agony for teachers to read and for me to write.When our class was assigned to Mr. Fleagle for third-year English I anticipated another cheerless year in that most tedious of subjects. Mr. Fleagle had a reputation among students for dullness and inability to inspire. He was said to be very formal, rigid and hopelessly out of date. To me he looked to be sixty or seventy and excessively prim. He wore primly severe eyeglasses, his wavy hair was primly cut and primly combed. He wore prim suits with neckties set primly against the collar buttons of his white shirts. He had a primly pointed jaw, a primly straight nose, and a prim manner of speaking that was so correct, so gentlemanly,that he seemed a comic antique.I prepared for an unfruitful year with Mr. Fleagle and for a long time was not disappointed. Late in the year we tackled the informal essay. Mr. Fleagle distributed a homework sheet offering us a choice of topics. None was quite so simple-minded as "What I Did on My Summer Vacation," but most seemed to be almost as dull. I took the list home and did nothing until the night before the essay was due. Lying on the sofa, I finally faced up to the unwelcome task, took the list out of my notebook, and scanned it. The topic on which my eye stopped was "The Art of Eating Spaghetti."This title produced an extraordinary sequence of mental images. Vivid memories came flooding back of a night in Belleville when all of us were seated around the supper table —Uncle Allen, my mother, Uncle Charlie, Doris, Uncle Hal — and Aunt Pat served spaghetti for supper. Spaghetti was still a little known foreign dish in those days. Neither Doris nor I had ever eaten spaghetti, and none of the adults had enough experience to be good at it. All the good humor of Uncle Allen's house reawoke in my mind as I recalled the laughingarguments we had that night about the socially respectable method for moving spaghetti from plate to mouth.Suddenly I wanted to write about that, about the warmth and good feeling of it, but I wanted to put it down simply for my own joy, not for Mr. Fleagle. It was a moment I wanted to recapture and hold for myself. I wanted to relive the pleasure of that evening. To write it as I wanted, however, would violate all the rules of formal composition I'd learned in school, and Mr. Fleagle would surely give it a failing grade. Never mind.I would write something else for Mr. Fleagle after I had written this thing for myself.When I finished it the night was half gone and there was no time left to compose a proper, respectable essay for Mr. Fleagle. There was no choice next morning but to turn in my tale of the Belleville supper. Two days passed before Mr. Fleagle returned the graded papers, and he returned everyone's but mine. I was preparing myself for a command to report to Mr. Fleagle immediately after school for discipline when I saw him lift my paper from his desk and knock for the class'sattention."Now, boys," he said. "I want to read you an essay. This is titled, 'The Art of Eating Spaghetti.'"And he started to read. My words! He was reading my words out loud to the entire class. What's more, the entire class was listening. Listening attentively. Then somebody laughed, then the entire class was laughing, and not in contempt and ridicule, but with open-hearted enjoyment. Even Mr. Fleagle stopped two or three times to hold back a small prim smile.I did my best to avoid showing pleasure, but what I was feeling was pure delight at this demonstration that my words had the power to make people laugh. In the eleventh grade, at the eleventh hour as it were, I had discovered a calling. It was the happiest moment of my entire school career. When Mr. Fleagle finished he put the final seal on my happiness by saying, "Now that, boys, is an essay, don't you see. It's —don't you see —it's of the very essence of the essay, don't you see. Congratulations, Mr. Baker."(797 words)Unit 2He must have been completely lost in something he was reading because I had to tap on the windshield to get his attention."Is your cab available" I asked when he finally looked up at me. He nodded, then said apologetically as I settled into the back seat, "I'm sorry, but I was reading a letter." He sounded as if he had a cold or something."I'm in no hurry," I told him. "Go ahead and finish your letter."He shook his head. "I've read it several times already.I guess I almost know it by heart.""Letters from home always mean a lot," I said. "At least they do with me because I'm on the road so much." Then, estimating that he was 60 or 70 years old, I guessed: "From a child or maybe a grandchild""This isn't family," he replied. "Although," he went on, "come to think of it", it might just as well have been family. Old Ed was my oldest friend. In fact, we used to call each other 'Old Friend' —when we'd meet, that is. I'm not much of a hand at writing.""I don't think any of us keep up our correspondence toowell," I said. "I know I don't. But I take it he's someone you've known quite a while""All my life, practically. We were kids together, so we go way back.""Went to school together""All the way through high school. We were in the same class, in fact, through both grade and high school." "There are not too many people who've had such a long friendship," I said."Actually," the driver went on, "I hadn't seen him more than once or twice a year over the past 25 or 30 years because I moved away from the old neighborhood and you kind of lose touch even though you never forget. He was a great guy.""You said 'was'. Does that mean —"He nodded. "Died a couple of weeks ago.""I'm sorry," I said. "It's no fun to lose any friend — and losing a real old one is even tougher."He didn't reply to that, and we rode on in silence for a few minutes. But I realized that Old Ed was still on his mind when he spoke again, almost more to himself than to me: "I should have kept in touch. Yes," herepeated, "I should have kept in touch.""Well," I agreed, "we should all keep in touch with old friends more than we do. But things come up and we just don't seem to find the time."He shrugged. "We used to find the time," he said. "That's even mentioned in the letter." He handed it over to me. "Take a look.""Thanks," I said, "but I don't want to read your mail. That's pretty personal."The driver shrugged. "Old Ed's dead. There's nothing personal now. Go ahead," he urged me.The letter was written in pencil. It began with the greeting "Old Friend," and the first sentence reminded me of myself. I've been meaning to write for some time, but I've always postponed it. It then went on to say that he often thought about the good times they had had together when they both lived in the same neighborhood. It had references to things that probably meant something to the driver, such as the time Tim Shea broke the window, the Halloween that we tied Old Mr. Parker's gate, and when Mrs. Culver used to keep us after school."You must have spent a lot of time together," I said to him."Like it says there," he answered, "about all we had to spend in those days was time." He shook his head: "Time."I thought the next paragraph of the letter was a little sad: I began the letter with "Old Friend" because that's what we've become over the years — old friends. And there aren't many of us left."You know," I said to him, "when it says here that there aren't many of us left, that's absolutely right. Every time I go to a class reunion, for example, there are fewer and fewer still around.""Time goes by," the driver said."Did you two work at the same place" I asked him. "No, but we hung out on the same corner when we were single. And then, when we were married, we used to go to each other's house every now and then. But for the last 20 or 30 years it's been mostly just Christmas cards. Of course there'd be always a note we'd each add to the cards — usually some news about our families, you know, what the kids were doing, who moved where,a new grandchild, things like that — but never a real letter or anything like that.""This is a good part here," I said. "Where it says Your friendship over the years has meant an awful lot to me, more than I can say because I'm not good at saying things like that. " I found myself nodding in agreement. "That must have made you feel good, didn't it"The driver said something that I couldn't understand because he seemed to be all choked up, so I continued: "I know I'd like to receive a letter like that from my oldest friend."We were getting close to our destination so I skipped to the last paragraph. So I thought you'd like to know that I was thinking of you. And it was signed，Your Old Friend, Tom.I handed back the letter as we stopped at my hotel. "Enjoyed talking with you," I said as I took my suitcase out of the cab. Tom The letter was signed Tom"I thought your friend's name was Ed," I said. "Why did he sign it Tom""The letter was not from Ed to me," he explained. "I'm Tom. It's a letter I wrote to him before I knew he'ddied. So I never mailed it."He looked sort of sorrowful, or as if he were trying to see something in the distance. "I guess I should have written it sooner."When I got to my hotel room I didn't unpack right away. First I had to write a letter — and mail it. (1093 words)Unit 3Whether we like it or not, the world we live in has changed a great deal in the last hundred years, and it is likely to change even more in the next hundred. Some people would like to stop these changes and go back to what they see as a purer and simpler age. But as history shows, the past was not that wonderful. It was not so bad for a privileged minority, though even they had to do without modern medicine, and childbirth was highly risky for women. But for the vast majority of the population, life was nasty, brutish, and short. Anyway, even if one wanted to, one couldn't put the clock back to an earlier age. Knowledge and techniques can't just be forgotten. Nor can one prevent further advances in the future. Even if all government moneyfor research were cut off (and the present government is doing its best), the force of competition would still bring about advances in technology. Moreover, one cannot stop inquiring minds from thinking about basic science, whether or not they are paid for it. The only way to prevent further developments would be a global state that suppressed anything new, and human initiative and inventiveness are such that even this wouldn't succeed. All it would do is slow down the rate of change.If we accept that we cannot prevent science and technology from changing our world, we can at least try to ensure that the changes they make are in the right directions. In a democratic society, this means that the public needs to have a basic understanding of science, so that it can make informed decisions and not leave them in the hands of experts. At the moment, the public is in two minds about science. It has come to expect the steady increase in the standard of living that new developments in science and technology have brought to continue, but it also distrusts science because it doesn't understand it. This distrust isevident in the cartoon figure of the mad scientist working in his laboratory to produce a Frankenstein. It is also an important element behind support for the Green parties. But the public also has a great interest in science, particularly astronomy, as is shown by the large audiences for television series such as The Sky at Night and for science fiction.What can be done to harness this interest and give the public the scientific background it needs to make informed decisions on subjects like acid rain, the greenhouse effect, nuclear weapons, and genetic engineering Clearly, the basis must lie in what is taught in schools. But in schools science is often presented in a dry and uninteresting manner. Children learn it by rote to pass examinations, and they don't see its relevance to the world around them. Moreover, science is often taught in terms of equations. Although equations are a brief and accurate way of describing mathematical ideas, they frighten most people. When I wrote a popular book recently, I was advised that each equation I included would halve the sales. I included one equation, Einstein's famous equation, E=mc2. MaybeI would have sold twice as many copies without it. Scientists and engineers tend to express their ideas in the form of equations because they need to know the precise values of quantities. But for the rest of us, a qualitative grasp of scientific concepts is sufficient, and this can be conveyed by words and diagrams, without the use of equations.The science people learn in school can provide the basic framework. But the rate of scientific progress is now so rapid that there are always new developments that have occurred since one was at school or university.I never learned about molecular biology or transistors at school, but genetic engineering and computers are two of the developments most likely to change the way we live in the future. Popular books and magazine articles about science can help to put across new developments, but even the most successful popular book is read by only a small proportion of the population. Only television can reach a truly mass audience. There are some very good science programmes on TV, but others present scientific wonders simply as magic, without explaining them or showing how they fit into theframework of scientific ideas. Producers of television science programmes should realize that they have a responsibility to educate the public, not just entertain it.The world today is filled with dangers, hence the sick joke that the reason we have not been contacted by an alien civilization is that civilizations tend to destroy themselves when they reach our stage. But I have sufficient faith in the good sense of the public to believe that we might prove this wrong.(812 words)Unit 4He came from a rocky farm in Italy, somewhere south of Rome. How or when he got to America, I don't know. But one evening I found him standing in the driveway, behind my garage. He was about five-foot-seven or eight, and thin."I mow your lawn," he said. It was hard to comprehend his broken English.I asked him his name. "Tony Trivisonno," he replied. "I mow your lawn." I told Tony that I couldn't afford a gardener."I mow your lawn," he said again, then walked away. I went into my house unhappy. Yes, these Depression days were difficult, but how could I to turn away a person who had come to me for helpWhen I got home from work the next evening, the lawn had been mowed, the garden weeded, and the walks swept.I asked my wife what had happened."A man got the lawn mower out of the garage and worked on the yard," she answered. "I assumed you had hired him."I told her of my experience the night before. We thought it strange that he had not asked for pay.The next two days were busy, and I forgot about Tony. We were trying to rebuild our business and bring some of our workers back to the plants. But on Friday, returning home a little early, I saw Tony again, behind the garage. I complimented him on the work he had done. "I mow your lawn," he said.I managed to work out some kind of small weekly pay, and each day Tony cleaned up the yard and took care of any little tasks. My wife said he was very helpful whenever there were any heavy objects to lift or thingsto fix.Summer passed into fall, and winds blew cold. "Mr. Craw, snow pretty soon," Tony told me one evening. "When winter come, you give me job clearing snow at the factory."Well, what do you do with such determination and hope Of course, Tony got his job at the factory.The months passed. I asked the personnel department for a report. They said Tony was a very good worker.One day I found Tony at our meeting place behind the garage. "I want to be 'prentice," he said.We had a pretty good apprentice school that trained laborers. But I doubted whether Tony had the capacity to read blueprints and micrometers or do precision work. Still, how could I turn him downTony took a cut in pay to become an apprentice. Months later, I got a report that he had graduated as a skilled grinder. He had learned to read the millionths of an inch on the micrometer and to shape the grinding wheel with an instrument set with a diamond. My wife and I were delighted with what we felt was a satisfying end of the story.A year or two passed, and again I found Tony in his usual waiting place. We talked about his work, and I asked him what he wanted."Mr. Craw," he said, "I like a buy a house." On the edge of town, he had found a house for sale, a complete wreck.I called on a banker friend. "Do you ever loan money on character" I asked. "No," he said. "We can't afford to. No sale.""Now, wait a minute," I replied. "Here is a hard-working man, a man of character, I can promise you that. He's got a good job. You're not getting a damn thing from your lot. It will stay there for years. At least he will pay your interest."Reluctantly, the banker wrote a mortgage for $2,000 and gave Tony the house with no down payment. Tony was delighted. From then on, it was interesting to see that any discarded odds and ends around our place —a broken screen, a bit of hardware, boards from packing — Tony would gather and take home.After about two years, I found Tony in our familiar meeting spot. He seemed to stand a little straighter. He was heavier. He had a look of confidence."Mr. Craw, I sell my house!" he said with pride. "I got $8,000."I was amazed. "But, Tony, where are you going to live without a house""Mr. Craw, I buy a farm."We sat down and talked. Tony told me that to own a farm was his dream. He loved the tomatoes and peppers and all the other vegetables important to his Italian diet. He had sent for his wife and son and daughter back in Italy. He had hunted around the edge of town until he found a small, abandoned piece of property with a house and shed. Now he was moving his family to his farm. Sometime later. Tony arrived on a Sunday afternoon, neatly dressed. He had another Italian man with him. He told me that he had persuaded his childhood friend to move to America. Tony was sponsoring him. With an amused look in his eye, he told me that when they approached the little farm he now operated, his friend stood in amazement and said, "Tony, you are a millionaire!"Then, during the war, a message came from my company. Tony had passed away.I asked our people to check on his family and see that everything was properly handled. They found the farm green with vegetables, the little house livable and homey. There was a tractor and a good car in the yard. The children were educated and working, and Tony didn't owe a cent.After he passed away, I thought more and more about Tony's career. He grew in stature in my mind. In the end, I think he stood as tall, and as proud, as the greatest American industrialists.They had all reached their success by the same route and by the same values and principles: vision, determination, self-control, optimism, self-respect and, above all, integrity.Tony did not begin on the bottom rung of the ladder. He began in the basement. Tony's affairs were tiny; the greatest industrialists' affairs were giant. But, after all, the balance sheets were exactly the same. The only difference was where you put the decimal point. Tony Trivisonno came to America seeking the American Dream. But he didn't find it —he created it for himself. All he had were 24 precious hours a day, and he wastednone of them. (1110 words)。