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早读英语精华本上册 4 I AMI am only one but still I'm one I can not do everythingbut still I can do something I will not refuse to do that something I can do Article/200903/18060。

PART FOUR - LIFE AT MOOR HOUSECHAPTER NINETEENFinding a HomeAfter traveling for two days, I arrived on the moor, a huge area with grass and many hills. After the coach left, I realized that I had left my clothes inside it, and that [-----1-----]. I was alone on the open moor! There were many white roads that went across the moor. I walked until I found a dry place to sellp under a small hill. Luckily it was a warm night, with no rain. The next day was hot and sunny, and I needed food and water, so I knew I had to find a village.I walked down one of the roads until I found a group of houses. I knocked on the doors and asked if there was any work I could do, but no one could help me. [-----2-----]. That night I slept outside again, but this time the air was cold. The next day I looked for work again, but there was nothing for me to do. I was now very weak from hunger. [-----3-----]. 填空 :1、I had no money我已身无分文。2、I could not beg for food, although I was extremely hungry尽管饥饿难耐,却不能去讨吃的。3、I began to wonder why I should try to stay alive, when I did not want to live我不想活了是开始纳闷自己为什么还拼命地活着。 Article/200906/73173。

你我的性格跟人家都不大合得来,又不愿意多说话,难得开口,除非想说几句一鸣惊人的话,让大家当作格言来流传千古。She danced next with an officer, and had the refreshment of talking of Wickham, and of hearing that he was universally liked. When those dances were over, she returned to Charlotte Lucas, and was in conversation with her, when she found herself suddenly addressed by Mr. Darcy who took her so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that, without knowing what she did, she accepted him. He walked away again immediately, and she was left to fret over her own want of presence of mind; Charlotte tried to console her:;I dare say you will find him very agreeable. ;;Heaven forbid! THAT would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an evil. ;When the dancing recommenced, however, and Darcy approached to claim her hand, Charlotte could not help cautioning her in a whisper, not to be a simpleton, and allow her fancy for Wickham to make her appear unpleasant in the eyes of a man ten times his consequence.Elizabeth made no answer, and took her place in the set, amazed at the dignity to which she was arrived in being allowed to stand opposite to Mr. Darcy, and ing in her neighbours#39; looks, their equal amazement in beholding it. They stood for some time without speaking a word; and she began to imagine that their silence was to last through the two dances, and at first was resolved not to break it; till suddenly fancying that it would be the greater punishment to her partner to oblige him to talk, she made some slight observation on the dance. He replied, and was again silent. After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time with:--;It is YOUR turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance, and YOU ought to make some sort of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples. ;He smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be said.;Very well. That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones. But NOW we may be silent. ;;Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?;;Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together; and yet for the advantage of SOME, conversation ought to be so arranged, as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible. ;;Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?;;Both, ; replied Elizabeth archly; ;for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the eclat of a proverb. ; Article/201108/147746。

Noise. It gets into your head and under your skin. Too much noise can turn ordinary people into raging maniacs. All too-common noises in neighborhoods are the blaring TVs, blaring car radios, and barking dogs. Most cities have ordinances against excessive noise. Of course, if you complain about your neighbor’s noise, your neighbor will hate you and start making more noise. So, many people try to ignore their inconsiderate neighbors. Finally, when they can take it no longer, they simply move.The city council of Los Angeles recently came to the rescue of its residents—or seemed to. It passed a new ordinance: the owner of a dog that barks for 30 minutes straight will get a warning the first time a complaint is made. For a second complaint, the owner will pay a 0 fine or go to jail for a week maximum, or both. The council wrote no penalty concerning a third or fourth complaint. “Finally,” said Zev Doheny, “we’ve passed a noise law with some teeth in it.”Of course, there are a few problems with the new law: How does a resident prove that a dog was barking for 30 minutes? Does he present an audio tape? With modern technology, couldn’t that tape easily be “doctored” so that one minute of actual barking magically becomes 30 minutes? Couldn’t a person tape just any old dog barking and then claim that it’s his neighbor’s dog doing all that barking? Do dogs have voiceprints, like humans have fingerprints? Will all dogs have to get “voice-printed?”“There isn’t one brain among the lot of them,” complained the owner of a pet store when he heard about the council’s new law. “Their ‘solutions’ are almost always worse than the problems themselves.” Article/201105/134415。

Enough was enough. After four years of devoting herself to Ward, Leah had given up. “I’m moving to New York,” she said. He couldn’t believe it. He begged her to give him one more chance. She said she had aly given him “one more chance” too many times.“I asked you to marry me, but you said you weren’t y to get married. You’re 50 years old—when will you be y!? I asked you to find us an apartment, so that we could live together; you didn’t. As a nervous realtor, I asked you to stay with me when I had to sit in open houses by myself on weekends. You didn’t. I asked you to help my son find a scholarship or grant so that he could attend a good college. You didn’t. Shall I go on?”He said he got the picture. He apologized. “My priorities weren’t right; now I realize that you are my only priority.”She said his apology was too little, too late. She had aly bought an airline ticket to New York City; her flight was Monday evening.His jaw dropped. “You’re not serious! What are you going to do in New York?” he asked. “You don’t know anyone there. You’ve never even been there. You can’t just fly into New York all alone and start wandering around. It’s a dangerous place. And the places that aren’t dangerous are expensive. You don’t have any money!”She said she had enough money to stay in a hotel until she found an apartment and a job. She had always wanted to live in a big, exciting city like New York. “That’s where I can start my own business,” she said, “and maybe find a man I can depend on!” Article/201108/150533。

有声名著之双城记 Chapter05CHAPTER VThe Wine-shopA LARGE cask of wine had been dropped and broken, street. The accident had happened in getting it out of a cart; the cask had tumbled out with a run, the hoops had burst, and it lay on the stones just outside the door of the wine-shop, shattered like a walnut-shell. All the people within reach had suspended their business or their idleness, to run to the spot and drink the wine. The rough, irregular stones of the street, pointing every way, and designed, one might have thought, expressly to lame all living creatures that approached them, had dammed it into little pools; these were surrounded, each by its own jostling group or crowd, according to its size. Some men kneeled down, made scoops of their two hands joined, and sipped, or tried to help women, who bent over their shoulders to sip, before the wine had all run out between their fingers. Others, men and women, dipped in the puddles with little mugs of mutilated earthenware, or even with handkerchiefs from women's heads, which were squeezed dry into infants mouths; others made small mud embankments, to stem the wine as it ran; others, directed by lookers-on up at high windows, darted here and there, to cut off little streams of wine that started away in new directions; others devoted themselves to the sodden and lee-dyed pieces of the cask licking, and even champing the moister wine-rotted fragments with eager relish. There was no drainage to carry off the wine, and not only did it all get taken up, but so much mud got taken up along with it, that there might have been a scavenger in the street, if anybody acquainted with it could have believed in such a miraculous presence. A shrill sound of laughter and of amused voices--voices of men, women, and children--resounded in the street while this wine game lasted. There was little roughness in the spot and much playfulness. There was a special companionship in it, an observable inclination on the part of every one to join some other one, which led, especially among the luckier or lighter-hearted, to frolicsome embraces, drinking of healths, shaking of hands, and even joining of hands and dancing, a dozen together. When the wine was gone, and the places where it had been most abundant were raked into a gridiron-pattern by fingers, these demonstrations ceased, as suddenly as they had broken out. The man who had left his saw sticking in the firewood he was cutting, set it in motion again; the woman who had left on a door-step the little pot of hot ashes, at which she had been trying to soften the pain in her own starved fingers and toes, or in those of her child, returned to it; men with bare arms, matted locks, and cadaverous faces, who had emerged into the winter light from cellars, moved away, to descend again; and a gloom gathered on the scene that appeared more natural to it than sunshine. The wine was red wine, and had stained the ground of the narrow street in the suburb of Saint Antoine, in Paris, where it was spilled. It had stained many hands, too, and many faces, and many naked feet, and many wooden shoes. The hands of the man who sawed the wood, left red marks on the billets; and the forehead of the woman who nursed her baby, was stained with the stain of the old rag she wound about her head again. Those who had been greedy with the staves of the cask, had acquired a tigerish smear about the mouth; and one tall joker so besmirched, his head more out of a long squalid bag of a night-cap than in it, scrawled upon a wall with his finger dipped in muddy wine-lees--BLOOD. The time was to come, when that wine too would be spilled on the street-stones, and when the stain of it would be red upon many there. And now that the cloud settled on Saint Antoine, which a momentary gleam had driven from his sacred countenance, the darkness of it was heavy--cold, dirt, sickness, ignorance, and want, were the lords in waiting on the saintly presence--nobles of great power all of them; but, most especially the last. Samples of a people that had undergone a terrible grinding and re-grinding in the mill, and certainly not in the fabulous mill which ground old people young, shivered at every corner, passed in and out at every doorway, looked from every window, fluttered in every vestige of a garment that the wind shock. The mill which had worked them down, was the mill that grinds young people old; the children had ancient faces and grave voices; and upon them, and upon the grown faces, and ploughed into every furrow of age and coming up afresh, was the sign, Hunger. It was prevalent everywhere. Hunger was pushed out of the tall houses, in the wretched clothing that hung upon poles and lines; Hunger was patched into them with straw and rag and wood and paper; Hunger was repeated in every fragment of the small modicum of firewood that the man sawed off; Hunger stared down from the smokeless chimneys, and started up from the filthy street that had no offal, among its refuse, of anything to eat. Hunger was the inscription on the baker's shelves, written in every small loaf of his Scanty stock of bad b; at the sausage-shop, in every dead-dog preparation that was offered for sale. Hunger rattled its dry bones among the roasting chestnuts in the turned cylinder; Hunger was shred into atomies in every farthing porringer of husky chips of potato, fried with some reluctant drops of oil. Its abiding place was in all things fitted to it. A narrow winding street, full of offence and stench, with other narrow winding streets diverging, all peopled by rags and nightcaps, and all smelling of rags and nightcaps, and all visible things with a brooding look upon them that looked ill. In the hunted air of the people there was yet some wild-beast thought of the possibility of turning at bay. Depressed and slinking though they were, eyes of fire were not wanting among them; nor compressed lips, white with what they suppressed; nor foreheads knitted into the likeness of the gallows-rope they mused about enduring, or inflicting. The trade signs (and they were almost as many as the shops) were, all, grim illustrations of Want. The butcher and the porkman painted up, only the leanest scrags of meat; the baker, the coarsest of meagre loaves. The people rudely pictured as drinking in the wine-shops, croaked over their scanty measures of thin wine and beer, and were gloweringly confidential together. Nothing was represented in a flourishing condition, save tools and weapons; but, the cutler's knives and axes were sharp and bright, the smith's hammers-were heavy, and the gunmaker's stock was murderous. The crippling stones of the pavement, with their many little reservoirs of mud and water, had no footways, but broke off abruptly at the doors. The kennel, to make amends, ran down the middle of the street--when it ran at all: which was only after heavy rains, and then it ran, by many eccentric fits, into the houses. Across the streets, at wide intervals, one clumsy lamp was slung by a rope and pulley; at night, when the lamplighter had let these down, and lighted, and hoisted them again, a feeble grove of dim wicks swung in a sickly manner overhead, as if they were at sea. Indeed they were at sea, and the ship and crew were in peril of tempest. For, the time was to come, when the gaunt scarecrows of that region should have watched the lamplighter, in their idleness and hunger, so long, as to conceive the idea of improving on his method, and hauling up men by those ropes and pulleys, to flare upon the darkness of their condition. But, the time was not come yet; and every wind that blew over France shook the rags of the scarecrows in vain, for the birds, fine of song and feather, took no warning. The wine-shop was a comer shop, better than most other' in its appearance and degree, and the master of the wine shop had stood outside it, in a yellow waistcoat and green breeches, looking on at the struggle for the lost wine. `It'' not my affair,' said he, with a final shrug of the shoulders, `The people from the market did it. Let them bring another. There, his eyes happening to catch the tall joker writing up his joke, he called to him across the way: `Say, then, my Gaspard, what do you do there?' The fellow pointed to his joke with immense significance as is often the way with his tribe. It missed its mark, and completely failed, as is often the way with his tribe too. `What now? Are you a subject for the mad hospital?' said the wine-shop keeper, crossing the road, and obliterating the jest with a handful of mud, picked up for the purpose and smeared over it. `Why do you write in the public streets? Is there--tell me thou--is there no other place to write such words in?' In his expostulation he dropped his cleaner hand (perhaps accidentally, perhaps not) upon the joker's heart. The joke rapped it with his own, took a nimble spring upward, and came down in a fantastic dancing attitude, with one of his stained shoes jerked off his foot into his hand, and held out A joker of an extremely, not to say wolfishly practical character, he looked, under those circumstances. Article/200902/63318。

It was 10 p.m. Fritz said good night to his wife. She was watching TV. He went to bed. Tomorrow was a big day. It was his last day of work. Thirty years with the federal government. Thirty years of flying out of town for weeks on end. Thirty years of interviews, meetings, and heavy briefcases. Tomorrow it would all be over. Not that he didn’t like it. He had enjoyed his career.Fritz felt blessed. His father had had a tough life as an unskilled laborer. Whenever Fritz was a bit discouraged or upset, he thought about his overworked and underpaid father. He thanked God for his own good life, and for the fact that he had been able to make his dad’s last years comfortable.His two children were married and had their own careers. His wife Paige kept busy with, among other things, her bridge club. She had tried to get him interested in bridge, but without success. Fritz was content with his own Friday night poker group.Friday morning, he went to work for the very last time. Those who knew him well would miss him. Fritz was a genuinely nice guy. He never had a bad word to say about anyone. Some people might have thought he was a little dull, but he was intelligent, a hard worker, and a team player. He had taken only three weeks of sick leave in 30 years.A small group took him out to lunch. When he returned from lunch, the whole office gathered around for cake, ice cream, a farewell card, and a few short speeches. They presented him with various going-away gifts, including a big, paperback US atlas. It listed all the motels, campgrounds, national parks, tourist spots, and other information to help guide a leisurely traveler throughout the good old USA. He had told his friends that he and Paige were going to spend a couple of years visiting all the places that he never had gotten to explore while there on business. As a final gift, his supervisor told him to take the rest of the day off.Paige’s car wasn’t in the driveway when he got home. She was probably shopping for some traveling clothes. Maybe she was out arranging a dinner at a restaurant that evening for just the two of them. That would be nice.But something was wrong. When he hung up his jacket, he saw that the bedroom closet was half empty. Paige’s clothes were gone. Her shoes were not on the closet floor. Confused, he looked around the bedroom.He saw an envelope on the lamp stand. Inside it were two pieces of paper. One notified him of a divorce proceeding. The other was a hand-written note from Paige. “I’m so sorry,” it began. She said that her lawyer had told her to wait until today. If she had sought divorce a year earlier, like her boyfriend had suggested, she would not have been able to qualify for 50 percent of Fritz’s pension. She hoped that he would find it in his heart to forgive her. She felt terrible about this, she wrote, because “you’ve been so good to me. But I can’t ignore my own heart.”Fritz sat immobile on the edge of the bed. Her note was in his hand; her words were burning in his brain.Maybe an hour later, the phone rang. He picked it up on the fifth ring. It was Bob, wondering if Fritz was going to play poker later that night. Article/201108/147101。

有声名著之少年维特的烦恼 Chapter5《少年维特的烦恼》小说的情节十分简单,年轻的维特来到一个小镇,这里的自然风光、淳朴的民风、天真快乐的儿童给予他极大的快乐。一次舞会上他认识了一个叫绿蒂的少女,她的一颦一笑、一举一动都让他倾倒;绿蒂也喜欢他,却不能予以爱的回报,她已与维特好友订婚。维特陷入了尴尬和痛苦,他毅然离开此地,力图从事业上得到解脱,有所成就,然而鄙陋的环境、污浊的人际关系、压抑个性窒息自由的现存秩序,都使他无法忍受,当他怀才不遇地重返绿蒂身边时,发现绿蒂已结婚,决定以死殉情,遂用一手结束了自己的生命。英文原著:少年维特的烦恼PDF文本下载。

她梦见正同黛娜手拉着手走着,并且很认真地问:“黛娜,告诉我,你吃过蝙蝠吗?,就在这时,突然“砰”地一声,她掉到了一堆枯枝败叶上了,总算掉到了底了! Down, down, down. There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon began talking again. `Dinah'll miss me very much to-night, I should think!' (Dinah was the cat.) `I hope they'll remember her saucer of milk at tea-time. Dinah my dear! I wish you were down here with me! There are no mice in the air, I'm afraid, but you might catch a bat, and that's very like a mouse, you know. But do cats eat bats, I wonder?' And here Alice began to get rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of way, `Do cats eat bats? Do cats eat bats?' and sometimes, `Do bats eat cats?' for, you see, as she couldn't answer either question, it didn't much matter which way she put it. She felt that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she was walking hand in hand with Dinah, and saying to her very earnestly, `Now, Dinah, tell me the truth: did you ever eat a bat?' when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over. Article/201011/117455。

有声名著之螺丝在拧紧 Chapter7英文原著:《螺丝在拧紧The.Turn.of.the.Screw》文本下载 相关名著:有声名著之查泰莱夫人的情人有声名著之简爱有声名著之呼啸山庄有声名著之傲慢与偏见有声名著之儿子与情人有声名著之红与黑有声名著之歌剧魅影有声名著之了不起的盖茨比有声名著之远大前程有声名著之巴斯史维尔猎犬 Article/200810/52997。