为您找到与简奥斯汀理智与情感经典语录英文版相关的共200个结果:
《理智与情感》是简·奥斯丁富于幽默情趣的处女作。故事中的每一个情节,经作者的巧妙构思,表面的因果关系与隐藏在幕后的本质缘故均自然合理。如果反过来重读一遍,会发现导致必然结果的因素早见于字里行间。下面读文网小编为大家带来理智与情感英语段落摘抄,欢迎大家阅读!
No sooner was his father's funeral over, than Mrs. John Dashwood, without sending any notice ofher intention to her mother-in-law, arrived with her child and their attendants. No one could disputeher right to come; the house was her husband's from the moment of his father's decease; but theindelicacy of her conduct was so much the greater, and to a woman in Mrs. Dashwood's situation,with only common feelings, must have been highly unpleasing;--but in HER mind there was a senseof honor so keen, a generosity so romantic, that any offence of the kind, by whomsoever given orreceived, was to her a source of immovable disgust. Mrs. John Dashwood had never been a favouritewith any of her husband's family; but she had had no opportunity, till the present, of shewing themwith how little attention to the comfort of other people she could act when occasion required it.
父亲的丧事刚办完,约翰。达什伍德夫人也不打个招呼,就带着孩子、仆人来到婆婆家里。谁也无法怀疑她有权来这里,因为从她公公死去的时刻起,这房子就属于她丈夫的了。不过,她的行为实在太不文雅,按照人之常情,任何一个女人处在达什伍德太太当婆母的位置上,都会感到很不愉快。何况,达什伍德太太是个自尊心很强、慷慨大方、落拓不羁的女入,对这种唐突无礼的事情,无论是谁干的或者对谁干的,她都会感到深恶痛绝。约翰。达什伍德夫人在婆家从未受过任何人的喜爱,可是直到今天她才有机会向她们摆明:在必要时,她为人行事可以全然不顾别入的痛痒。
浏览量:3
下载量:0
时间:
《理智与情感》是简·奥斯丁富于幽默情趣的处女作。《理智与情感》虽是简·奥斯汀的第一部小说,但写作技巧已经相当熟练。故事中的每一个情节,经作者的巧妙构思,表面的因果关系与隐藏在幕后的本质缘故均自然合理。女主人公根据表面现象产生合情合理的推测和判断,细心的读者虽然不时产生种种疑惑,但思绪会自然而然随着好的观察而发展,等着最后结果出现时,与表面现象截然不同,造成了出乎意料的喜剧效果。如果反过来重读一遍,会发现导致必然结果的因素早见于字里行间。下面读文网小编为大家带来《理智与情感》经典段落英文,欢迎大家阅读!
The first part of their journey was performed in too melancholy a disposition to be otherwise than tedious and unpleasant. But as they drew towards the end of it, their interest in the appearance of a country which they were to inhabit overcame their dejection, and a view of Barton Valley as they entered it gave them cheerfulness. It was a pleasant fertile spot, well wooded, and rich in pasture. After winding along it for more than a mile, they reached their own house. A small green court was the whole of its demesne in front; and a neat wicket gate admitted them into it.
As a house, Barton Cottage, though small, was comfortable and compact; but as a cottage it was defective, for the building was regular, the roof was tiled, the window shutters were not painted green, nor were the walls covered with honeysuckles. A narrow passage led directly through the house into the garden behind. On each side of the entrance was a sitting room, about sixteen feet square; and beyond them were the offices and the stairs. Four bed-rooms and two garrets formed the rest of the house. It had not been built many years and was in good repair. In comparison of Norland, it was poor and small indeed!--but the tears which recollection called forth as they entered the house were soon dried away. They were cheered by the joy of the servants on their arrival, and each for the sake of the others resolved to appear happy. It was very early in September; the season was fine, and from first seeing the place under the advantage of good weather, they received an impression in its favour which was of material service in recommending it to their lasting approbation.
The situation of the house was good. High hills rose immediately behind, and at no great distance on each side; some of which were open downs, the others cultivated and woody. The village of Barton was chiefly on one of these hills, and formed a pleasant view from the cottage windows. The prospect in front was more extensive; it commanded the whole of the valley, and reached into the country beyond. The hills which surrounded the cottage terminated the valley in that direction; under another name, and in another course, it branched out again between two of the steepest of them.
浏览量:2
下载量:0
时间:
《理智与情感》是简·奥斯丁富于幽默情趣的处女作。《理智与情感》虽是简·奥斯汀的第一部小说,但写作技巧已经相当熟练。故事中的每一个情节,经作者的巧妙构思,表面的因果关系与隐藏在幕后的本质缘故均自然合理。女主人公根据表面现象产生合情合理的推测和判断,细心的读者虽然不时产生种种疑惑,但思绪会自然而然随着好的观察而发展,等着最后结果出现时,与表面现象截然不同,造成了出乎意料的喜剧效果。如果反过来重读一遍,会发现导致必然结果的因素早见于字里行间。下面读文网小编为大家带来《理智与情感》经典英文段落,欢迎大家阅读!
Mr. John Dashwood had not the strong feelings of the rest of the family; but he was affected by a recommendation of such a nature at such a time, and he promised to do every thing in his power to make them comfortable. His father was rendered easy by such an assurance, and Mr. John Dashwood had then leisure to consider how much there might prudently be in his power to do for them.
He was not an ill-disposed young man, unless to be rather cold hearted and rather selfish is to be ill-disposed: but he was, in general, well respected; for he conducted himself with propriety in the discharge of his ordinary duties. Had he married a more amiable woman, he might have been made still more respectable than he was:--he might even have been made amiable himself; for he was very young when he married, and very fond of his wife. But Mrs. John Dashwood was a strong caricature of himself;--more narrow-minded and selfish.
When he gave his promise to his father, he meditated within himself to increase the fortunes of his sisters by the present of a thousand pounds a-piece. He then really thought himself equal to it. The prospect of four thousand a-year, in addition to his present income, besides the remaining half of his own mother's fortune, warmed his heart, and made him feel capable of generosity.-- "Yes, he would give them three thousand pounds: it would be liberal and handsome! It would be enough to make them completely easy. Three thousand pounds! he could spare so considerable a sum with little inconvenience."-- He thought of it all day long, and for many days successively, and he did not repent.
No sooner was his father's funeral over, than Mrs. John Dashwood, without sending any notice of her intention to her mother-in-law, arrived with her child and their attendants. No one could dispute her right to come; the house was her husband's from the moment of his father's decease; but the indelicacy of her conduct was so much the greater, and to a woman in Mrs. Dashwood's situation, with only common feelings, must have been highly unpleasing;--but in HER mind there was a sense of honor so keen, a generosity so romantic, that any offence of the kind, by whomsoever given or received, was to her a source of immovable disgust. Mrs. John Dashwood had never been a favourite with any of her husband's family; but she had had no opportunity, till the present, of shewing them with how little attention to the comfort of other people she could act when occasion required it.
浏览量:2
下载量:0
时间:
想找一些简单又有个性的英文句子来做qq签名吗?下面读文网小编为大家带简单个性英文签名,希望大家喜欢!
Life is a on return journey.
人生是一段没有退路的旅程。
Home is where the heart is.
心在的地方就是家。
Life is tough, my darling, but so are you.
生活很艰难,但是宝贝,你也很坚强。
When it has is lost, brave to give up.
当拥有已经是失去,就勇敢的放弃。
Don't let the fear for losing keep you from trying.
别因为害怕失败而停止尝试。
Real dream is the other shore of reality.
真正的梦就是现实的彼岸。
Sometimes you have to give up on someone in order to respect yourself.
有时候我们必须放弃一些人,来成全自己的自尊。
There is no elevator to success. You have to take the stairs.
成功没有电梯,只有一步一个脚印。
浏览量:3
下载量:0
时间:
《丑小鸭》是安徒生的经典童话故事之一,写了一只天鹅蛋在鸭群中破壳后,因相貌怪异,让同类鄙弃,历经千辛万苦、重重磨难之后长成了白天鹅。下面读文网小编为大家带来丑小鸭童话故事英文版及翻译,欢迎大家阅读欣赏!
It was so beautiful out on the country, it was summer- the wheat fields were golden, the oats were green, and down among the green meadows the hay was stacked. There the stork minced about on his red legs, clacking away in Egyptian, which was the language his mother had taught him. Round about the field and meadow lands rose vast forests, in which deep lakes lay hidden. Yes, it was indeed lovely out there in the country.
In the midst of the sunshine there stood an old manor house that had a deep moat around it. From the walls of the manor right down to the water's edge great burdock leaves grew, and there were some so tall that little children could stand upright beneath the biggest of them. In this wilderness of leaves, which was as dense as the forests itself, a duck sat on her nest, hatching her ducklings. She was becoming somewhat weary, because sitting is such a dull business and scarcely anyone came to see her. The other ducks would much rather swim in the moat than waddle out and squat under the burdock leaf to gossip with her.
But at last the eggshells began to crack, one after another. "Peep, peep!" said the little things, as they came to life and poked out their heads.
"Quack, quack!" said the duck, and quick as quick can be they all waddled out to have a look at the green world under the leaves. Their mother let them look as much as they pleased, because green is good for the eyes.
"How wide the world is," said all the young ducks, for they certainly had much more room now than they had when they were in their eggshells.
"Do you think this is the whole world?" their mother asked. "Why it extends on and on, clear across to the other side of the garden and right on into the parson's field, though that is further than I have ever been. I do hope you are all hatched," she said as she got up. "No, not quite all. The biggest egg still lies here. How much longer is this going to take? I am really rather tired of it all," she said, but she settled back on her nest.
"Well, how goes it?" asked an old duck who came to pay her a call.
"It takes a long time with that one egg," said the duck on the nest. "It won't crack, but look at the others. They are the cutest little ducklings I've ever seen. They look exactly like their father, the wretch! He hasn't come to see me at all."
"Let's have a look at the egg that won't crack," the old duck said. "It's a turkey egg, and you can take my word for it. I was fooled like that once myself. What trouble and care I had with those turkey children, for I may as well tell you, they are afraid of the water. I simply could not get them into it. I quacked and snapped at them, but it wasn't a bit of use. Let me see the egg. Certainly, it's a turkey egg. Let it lie, and go teach your other children to swim."
"Oh, I'll sit a little longer. I've been at it so long already that I may as well sit here half the summer."
"Suit yourself," said the old duck, and away she waddled.
At last the big egg did crack. "Peep," said the young one, and out he tumbled, but he was so big and ugly.
The duck took a look at him. "That's a frightfully big duckling," she said. "He doesn't look the least like the others. Can he really be a turkey baby? Well, well! I'll soon find out. Into the water he shall go, even if I have to shove him in myself."
Next day the weather was perfectly splendid, and the sun shone down on all the green burdock leaves. The mother duck led her whole family down to the moat. Splash! she took to the water. "Quack, quack," said she, and one duckling after another plunged in. The water went over their heads, but they came up in a flash, and floated to perfection. Their legs worked automatically, and they were all there in the water. Even the big, ugly gray one was swimming along.
"Why, that's no turkey," she said. "See how nicely he uses his legs, and how straight he holds himself. He's my very own son after all, and quite good-looking if you look at him properly. Quack, quack come with me. I'll lead you out into the world and introduce you to the duck yard. But keep close to me so that you won't get stepped on, and watch out for the cat!"
Thus they sallied into the duck yard, where all was in an uproar because two families were fighting over the head of an eel. But the cat got it, after all.
"You see, that's the way of the world." The mother duck licked her bill because she wanted the eel's head for herself. "Stir your legs. Bustle about, and mind that you bend your necks to that old duck over there. She's the noblest of us all, and has Spanish blood in her. That's why she's so fat. See that red rag around her leg? That's a wonderful thing, and the highest distinction a duck can get. It shows that they don't want to lose her, and that she's to have special attention from man and beast. Shake yourselves! Don't turn your toes in. A well-bred duckling turns his toes way out, just as his father and mother do-this way. So then! Now duck your necks and say quack!"
They did as she told them, but the other ducks around them looked on and said right out loud, "See here! Must we have this brood too, just as if there weren't enough of us already? And-fie! what an ugly-looking fellow that duckling is! We won't stand for him." One duck charged up and bit his neck.
"Let him alone," his mother said. "He isn't doing any harm."
"Possibly not," said the duck who bit him, "but he's too big and strange, and therefore he needs a good whacking."
"What nice-looking children you have, Mother," said the old duck with the rag around her leg. "They are all pretty except that one. He didn't come out so well. It's a pity you can't hatch him again."
"That can't be managed, your ladyship," said the mother. "He isn't so handsome, but he's as good as can be, and he swims just as well as the rest, or, I should say, even a little better than they do. I hope his looks will improve with age, and after a while he won't seem so big. He took too long in the egg, and that's why his figure isn't all that it should be." She pinched his neck and preened his feathers. "Moreover, he's a drake, so it won't matter so much. I think he will be quite strong, and I'm sure he will amount to something."
"The other ducklings are pretty enough," said the old duck. "Now make yourselves right at home, and if you find an eel's head you may bring it to me."
So they felt quite at home. But the poor duckling who had been the last one out of his egg, and who looked so ugly, was pecked and pushed about and made fun of by the ducks, and the chickens as well. "He's too big," said they all. The turkey gobbler, who thought himself an emperor because he was born wearing spurs, puffed up like a ship under full sail and bore down upon him, gobbling and gobbling until he was red in the face. The poor duckling did not know where he dared stand or where he dared walk. He was so sad because he was so desperately ugly, and because he was the laughing stock of the whole barnyard.
So it went on the first day, and after that things went from bad to worse. The poor duckling was chased and buffeted about by everyone. Even his own brothers and sisters abused him. "Oh," they would always say, "how we wish the cat would catch you, you ugly thing." And his mother said, "How I do wish you were miles away." The ducks nipped him, and the hens pecked him, and the girl who fed them kicked him with her foot.
So he ran away; and he flew over the fence. The little birds in the bushes darted up in a fright. "That's because I'm so ugly," he thought, and closed his eyes, but he ran on just the same until he reached the great marsh where the wild ducks lived. There he lay all night long, weary and disheartened.
When morning came, the wild ducks flew up to have a look at their new companion. "What sort of creature are you?" they asked, as the duckling turned in all directions, bowing his best to them all. "You are terribly ugly," they told him, "but that's nothing to us so long as you don't marry into our family."
Poor duckling! Marriage certainly had never entered his mind. All he wanted was for them to let him lie among the reeds and drink a little water from the marsh.
There he stayed for two whole days. Then he met two wild geese, or rather wild ganders-for they were males. They had not been out of the shell very long, and that's what made them so sure of themselves.
"Say there, comrade," they said, "you're so ugly that we have taken a fancy to you. Come with us and be a bird of passage. In another marsh near-by, there are some fetching wild geese, all nice young ladies who know how to quack. You are so ugly that you'll completely turn their heads."
Bing! Bang! Shots rang in the air, and these two ganders fell dead among the reeds. The water was red with their blood. Bing! Bang! the shots rang, and as whole flocks of wild geese flew up from the reeds another volley crashed. A great hunt was in progress. The hunters lay under cover all around the marsh, and some even perched on branches of trees that overhung the reeds. Blue smoke rose like clouds from the shade of the trees, and drifted far out over the water.
The bird dogs came splash, splash! through the swamp, bending down the reeds and the rushes on every side. This gave the poor duckling such a fright that he twisted his head about to hide it under his wing. But at that very moment a fearfully big dog appeared right beside him. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and his wicked eyes glared horribly. He opened his wide jaws, flashed his sharp teeth, and - splash, splash - on he went without touching the duckling.
"Thank heavens," he sighed, "I'm so ugly that the dog won't even bother to bite me."
He lay perfectly still, while the bullets splattered through the reeds as shot after shot was fired. It was late in the day before things became quiet again, and even then the poor duckling didn't dare move. He waited several hours before he ventured to look about him, and then he scurried away from that marsh as fast as he could go. He ran across field and meadows. The wind was so strong that he had to struggle to keep his feet.
Late in the evening he came to a miserable little hovel, so ramshackle that it did not know which way to tumble, and that was the only reason it still stood. The wind struck the duckling so hard that the poor little fellow had to sit down on his tail to withstand it. The storm blew stronger and stronger, but the duckling noticed that one hinge had come loose and the door hung so crooked that he could squeeze through the crack into the room, and that's just what he did.
Here lived an old woman with her cat and her hen. The cat, whom she called "Sonny," could arch his back, purr, and even make sparks, though for that you had to stroke his fur the wrong way. The hen had short little legs, so she was called "Chickey Shortleg." She laid good eggs, and the old woman loved her as if she had been her own child.
In the morning they were quick to notice the strange duckling. The cat began to purr, and the hen began to cluck.
"What on earth!" The old woman looked around, but she was short-sighted, and she mistook the duckling for a fat duck that had lost its way. "That was a good catch," she said. "Now I shall have duck eggs-unless it's a drake. We must try it out." So the duckling was tried out for three weeks, but not one egg did he lay.
In this house the cat was master and the hen was mistress. They always said, "We and the world," for they thought themselves half of the world, and much the better half at that. The duckling thought that there might be more than one way of thinking, but the hen would not hear of it.
"Can you lay eggs?" she asked
"No."
"Then be so good as to hold your tongue."
The cat asked, "Can you arch your back, purr, or make sparks?"
"No."
"Then keep your opinion to yourself when sensible people are talking."
The duckling sat in a corner, feeling most despondent. Then he remembered the fresh air and the sunlight. Such a desire to go swimming on the water possessed him that he could not help telling the hen about it.
"What on earth has come over you?" the hen cried. "You haven't a thing to do, and that's why you get such silly notions. Lay us an egg, or learn to purr, and you'll get over it."
"But it's so refreshing to float on the water," said the duckling, "so refreshing to feel it rise over your head as you dive to the bottom."
"Yes, it must be a great pleasure!" said the hen. "I think you must have gone crazy. Ask the cat, who's the wisest fellow I know, whether he likes to swim or dive down in the water. Of myself I say nothing. But ask the old woman, our mistress. There's no one on earth wiser than she is. Do you imagine she wants to go swimming and feel the water rise over her head?"
"You don't understand me," said the duckling.
"Well, if we don't, who would? Surely you don't think you are cleverer than the cat and the old woman-to say nothing of myself. Don't be so conceited, child. Just thank your Maker for all the kindness we have shown you. Didn't you get into this snug room, and fall in with people who can tell you what's what? But you are such a numbskull that it's no pleasure to have you around. Believe me, I tell you this for your own good. I say unpleasant truths, but that's the only way you can know who are your friends. Be sure now that you lay some eggs. See to it that you learn to purr or to make sparks."
"I think I'd better go out into the wide world," said the duckling.
"Suit yourself," said the hen.
So off went the duckling. He swam on the water, and dived down in it, but still he was slighted by every living creature because of his ugliness.
Autumn came on. The leaves in the forest turned yellow and brown. The wind took them and whirled them about. The heavens looked cold as the low clouds hung heavy with snow and hail. Perched on the fence, the raven screamed, "Caw, caw!" and trembled with cold. It made one shiver to think of it. Pity the poor little duckling!
One evening, just as the sun was setting in splendor, a great flock of large, handsome birds appeared out of the reeds. The duckling had never seen birds so beautiful. They were dazzling white, with long graceful necks. They were swans. They uttered a very strange cry as they unfurled their magnificent wings to fly from this cold land, away to warmer countries and to open waters. They went up so high, so very high, that the ugly little duckling felt a strange uneasiness come over him as he watched them. He went around and round in the water, like a wheel. He craned his neck to follow their course, and gave a cry so shrill and strange that he frightened himself. Oh! He could not forget them-those splendid, happy birds. When he could no longer see them he dived to the very bottom. and when he came up again he was quite beside himself. He did not know what birds they were or whither they were bound, yet he loved them more than anything he had ever loved before. It was not that he envied them, for how could he ever dare dream of wanting their marvelous beauty for himself? He would have been grateful if only the ducks would have tolerated him-the poor ugly creature.
The winter grew cold - so bitterly cold that the duckling had to swim to and fro in the water to keep it from freezing over. But every night the hole in which he swam kept getting smaller and smaller. Then it froze so hard that the duckling had to paddle continuously to keep the crackling ice from closing in upon him. At last, too tired to move, he was frozen fast in the ice.
Early that morning a farmer came by, and when he saw how things were he went out on the pond, broke away the ice with his wooden shoe, and carried the duckling home to his wife. There the duckling revived, but when the children wished to play with him he thought they meant to hurt him. Terrified, he fluttered into the milk pail, splashing the whole room with milk. The woman shrieked and threw up her hands as he flew into the butter tub, and then in and out of the meal barrel. Imagine what he looked like now! The woman screamed and lashed out at him with the fire tongs. The children tumbled over each other as they tried to catch him, and they laughed and they shouted. Luckily the door was open, and the duckling escaped through it into the bushes, where he lay down, in the newly fallen snow, as if in a daze.
But it would be too sad to tell of all the hardships and wretchedness he had to endure during this cruel winter. When the warm sun shone once more, the duckling was still alive among the reeds of the marsh. The larks began to sing again. It was beautiful springtime.
Then, quite suddenly, he lifted his wings. They swept through the air much more strongly than before, and their powerful strokes carried him far. Before he quite knew what was happening, he found himself in a great garden where apple trees bloomed. The lilacs filled the air with sweet scent and hung in clusters from long, green branches that bent over a winding stream. Oh, but it was lovely here in the freshness of spring!
From the thicket before him came three lovely white swans. They ruffled their feathers and swam lightly in the stream. The duckling recognized these noble creatures, and a strange feeling of sadness came upon him.
"I shall fly near these royal birds, and they will peck me to bits because I, who am so very ugly, dare to go near them. But I don't care. Better be killed by them than to be nipped by the ducks, pecked by the hens, kicked about by the hen-yard girl, or suffer such misery in winter."
So he flew into the water and swam toward the splendid swans. They saw him, and swept down upon him with their rustling feathers raised. "Kill me!" said the poor creature, and he bowed his head down over the water to wait for death. But what did he see there, mirrored in the clear stream? He beheld his own image, and it was no longer the reflection of a clumsy, dirty, gray bird, ugly and offensive. He himself was a swan! Being born in a duck yard does not matter, if only you are hatched from a swan's egg.
He felt quite glad that he had come through so much trouble and misfortune, for now he had a fuller understanding of his own good fortune, and of beauty when he met with it. The great swans swam all around him and stroked him with their bills.
Several little children came into the garden to throw grain and bits of bread upon the water. The smallest child cried, "Here's a new one," and the others rejoiced, "yes, a new one has come." They clapped their hands, danced around, and ran to bring their father and mother.
And they threw bread and cake upon the water, while they all agreed, "The new one is the most handsome of all. He's so young and so good-looking." The old swans bowed in his honor.
Then he felt very bashful, and tucked his head under his wing. He did not know what this was all about. He felt so very happy, but he wasn't at all proud, for a good heart never grows proud. He thought about how he had been persecuted and scorned, and now he heard them all call him the most beautiful of all beautiful birds. The lilacs dipped their clusters into the stream before him, and the sun shone so warm and so heartening. He rustled his feathers and held his slender neck high, as he cried out with full heart: "I never dreamed there could be so much happiness, when I was the ugly duckling."#p#副标题#e#
浏览量:4
下载量:0
时间:
小红帽是德国童话作家格林的童话《小红帽》中的人物,故事版本多达一百多个,是如今家户喻晓的经典童话故事,成了不少小朋友最喜欢的睡前故事之一。下面读文网小编为大家带来小红帽童话故事双语版,欢迎大家阅读。
Once upon a time there was a sweet little girl. Everyone who saw her liked her, but most of all her grandmother, who did not know what to give the child next. Once she gave her a little cap made of red velvet. Because it suited her so well, and she wanted to wear it all the time, she came to be known as Little Red Cap.
One day her mother said to her, "Come Little Red Cap. Here is a piece of cake and a bottle of wine. Take them to your grandmother. She is sick and weak, and they will do her well. Mind your manners and give her my greetings. Behave yourself on the way, and do not leave the path, or you might fall down and break the glass, and then there will be nothing for your grandmother. And when you enter her parlor, don't forget to say 'Good morning,' and don't peer into all the corners first."
"I'll do everything just right," said Little Red Cap, shaking her mother's hand.
The grandmother lived out in the woods, a half hour from the village. When Little Red Cap entered the woods a wolf came up to her. She did not know what a wicked animal he was, and was not afraid of him.
"Good day to you, Little Red Cap."
"Thank you, wolf."
"Where are you going so early, Little Red Cap?"
"To grandmother's."
"And what are you carrying under your apron?"
"Grandmother is sick and weak, and I am taking her some cake and wine. We baked yesterday, and they should be good for her and give her strength."
"Little Red Cap, just where does your grandmother live?"
"Her house is good quarter hour from here in the woods, under the three large oak trees. There's a hedge of hazel bushes there. You must know the place," said Little Red Cap.
The wolf thought to himself, "Now that sweet young thing is a tasty bite for me. She will taste even better than the old woman. You must be sly, and you can catch them both."
He walked along a little while with Little Red Cap, then he said, "Little Red Cap, just look at the beautiful flowers that are all around us. Why don't you go and take a look? And I don't believe you can hear how beautifully the birds are singing. You are walking along as though you were on your way to school. It is very beautiful in the woods."
Little Red Cap opened her eyes and when she saw the sunbeams dancing to and fro through the trees and how the ground was covered with beautiful flowers, she thought, "If a take a fresh bouquet to grandmother, she will be very pleased. Anyway, it is still early, and I'll be home on time." And she ran off the path into the woods looking for flowers. Each time she picked one she thought that she could see an even more beautiful one a little way off, and she ran after it, going further and further into the woods. But the wolf ran straight to the grandmother's house and knocked on the door.
"Who's there?"
"Little Red Cap. I'm bringing you some cake and wine. Open the door."
"Just press the latch," called out the grandmother. "I'm too weak to get up."
The wolf pressed the latch, and the door opened. He stepped inside, went straight to the grandmother's bed, and ate her up. Then he put on her clothes, put her cap on his head, got into her bed, and pulled the curtains shut.
Little Red Cap had run after the flowers. After she had gathered so many that she could not carry any more, she remembered her grandmother, and then continued on her way to her house. She found, to her surprise, that the door was open. She walked into the parlor, and everything looked so strange that she thought, "Oh, my God, why am I so afraid? I usually like it at grandmother's."
She called out, "Good morning!" but received no answer.
Then she went to the bed and pulled back the curtains. Grandmother was lying there with her cap pulled down over her face and looking very strange.
"Oh, grandmother, what big ears you have!"
"All the better to hear you with."
"Oh, grandmother, what big eyes you have!"
"All the better to see you with."
"Oh, grandmother, what big hands you have!"
"All the better to grab you with!"
"Oh, grandmother, what a horribly big mouth you have!"
"All the better to eat you with!"
The wolf had scarcely finished speaking when he jumped from the bed with a single leap and ate up poor Little Red Cap. As soon as the wolf had satisfied his desires, he climbed back into bed, fell asleep, and began to snore very loudly.
A huntsman was just passing by. He thought, "The old woman is snoring so loudly. You had better see if something is wrong with her."
He stepped into the parlor, and when he approached the bed, he saw the wolf lying there. "So here I find you, you old sinner," he said. "I have been hunting for you a long time."
He was about to aim his rifle when it occurred to him that the wolf might have eaten the grandmother, and that she still might be rescued. So instead of shooting, he took a pair of scissors and began to cut open the wolf's belly. After a few cuts he saw the red cap shining through., and after a few more cuts the girl jumped out, crying, "Oh, I was so frightened! It was so dark inside the wolf's body!"
And then the grandmother came out as well, alive but hardly able to breathe. Then Little Red Cap fetched some large stones. She filled the wolf's body with them, and when he woke up and tried to run away, the stones were so heavy that he immediately fell down dead.
The three of them were happy. The huntsman skinned the wolf and went home with the pelt. The grandmother ate the cake and drank the wine that Little Red Cap had brought. And Little Red Cap thought, "As long as I live, I will never leave the path and run off into the woods by myself if mother tells me not to."
They also tell how Little Red Cap was taking some baked things to her grandmother another time, when another wolf spoke to her and wanted her to leave the path. But Little Red Cap took care and went straight to grandmother's. She told her that she had seen the wolf, and that he had wished her a good day, but had stared at her in a wicked manner. "If we hadn't been on a public road, he would have eaten me up," she said.
"Come," said the grandmother. "Let's lock the door, so he can't get in."
Soon afterward the wolf knocked on the door and called out, "Open up, grandmother. It's Little Red Cap, and I'm bringing you some baked things."
They remained silent, and did not open the door. Gray-Head crept around the house several times, and finally jumped onto the roof. He wanted to wait until Little Red Cap went home that evening, then follow her and eat her up in the darkness. But the grandmother saw what he was up to. There was a large stone trough in front of the house.
"Fetch a bucket, Little Red Cap," she said to the child. "Yesterday I cooked some sausage. Carry the water that I boiled them with to the trough." Little Red Cap carried water until the large, large trough was clear full. The smell of sausage arose into the wolf's nose. He sniffed and looked down, stretching his neck so long that he could no longer hold himself, and he began to slide. He slid off the roof, fell into the trough, and drowned. And Little Red Cap returned home happily, and no one harmed her.
浏览量:25
下载量:0
时间:
英国的教育体系经过几百年的沿革,相当的完善和复杂,这里就有它的英文版介绍。下面读文网小编为大家带来英国教育体系英文简介,希望对你有所帮助!
英国教育体系总体来说分为三个阶段: 义务教育(Compulsory Education),延续教育(Further Education)和高等教育(Higher Education)。
一、义务教育 (Compulsory Education)
英国的学生从四岁开始接受义务教育,享受全免费的国家福利,学校甚至还提供免费的午餐,所有的家长必须把自己的孩子送到学校读书。小学教育一般持续到11岁,然后进入中学。英国的中学不分初中高中,从中一(Form 1)到中五(Form 5)共五年的时间。
二、延续教育(Further Education)
延续教育是英国教育体系中最有特色也最精彩的部分,它是继小学(Primary)中学(Secondary)教育之后的“第三级教育”(Tertiary)。为进入高等教育或者就业打下基础。也是中国的高中学生留学英国的关键阶段。一般来说接受延续教育的学生介于16和18岁之间。它分为两种体系:学业路线(Academic Route)和职业路线(Vocational Route)。学业路线着重于培养学术研究方面的人才,职业路线则结合社会各层面的职业需要,培养在各种行业中具有专门技能和知识的人才。这两种体系在英国受到同等的重视。
三、高等教育(Higher Education)
顾名思义,高等教育是英国教育体系中的高级阶段,它包括:
本科(Bachelor Degree)
研究生(Master Degree)
博士生(Doctorial Degree)
高级国家文凭(HND-Higher National Diploma)。
高等教育通常都是由大学(University)提供,但许多学院(College)也提供Bachelor和HND课程。
看了英国教育体系英文版介绍这篇文章
浏览量:21
下载量:0
时间:
《假如给我三天光明》是作者海伦·凯勒的自传,被誉为“世界文学史上无与伦比的杰作”。她以自己的经历告诫人们应珍惜生命,珍惜造物主赐予的一切。如果你想欣赏一下这篇经典名作的话,那么就不要错过下面读文网小编为大家带来假如给我三天光明完整英文版及中文翻译,希望大家喜欢!
All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year; sometimes as short as twenty-four hours.
But always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed man chose to spend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who have a choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited.
Such stories set us thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events, what experiences, what associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings? What happiness should we find in reviewing the past, what regrets?
Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with a gentleness, a vigor, and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and years to come. There are those, of course, who would adopt the Epicurean motto of "Eat, drink, and be merry," but most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.
In stories the doomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, but almost always his sense of values is changed. he becomes more appreciative of the meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values. It ahs often been noted that those who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do.
Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life.
The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lose it, of not being conscious of health until we are ill.
I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would tech him the joys of sound.
Now and them I have tested my seeing friends to discover what they see. Recently I was visited by a very good friends who hadjust returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed.. "Nothing in particular, " she replied. I might have been incredulous had I not been accustomed to such reposes, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.
How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough, shaggy bark of a pine. In the spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter's sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have the cool waters of a brook rush thought my open finger. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the page ant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my finger tips.
At times my heart cries out with longing to see all these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight. Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. the panorama of color and action which fills the world is taken for granted. It is human, perhaps, to appreciate little that which we have and to long for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light the gift of sight is used only as a mere conveniences rather than as a means of adding fullness to life.
If I were the president of a university I should establish a compulsory course in "How to Use Your Eyes". The professor would try to show his pupils how they could add joy to their lives by really seeing what passes unnoticed before them. He would try to awake their dormant and sluggish faculties.
Perhaps I can best illustrate by imagining what I should most like to see if I were given the use of my eyes, say, for just three days. And while I am imagining, suppose you, too, set your mind to work on the problem of how you would use your own eyes if you had only three more days to see. If with the on-coming darkness of the third night you knew that the sun would never rise for you again, how would you spend those three precious intervening days? What would you most want to let your gaze rest upon?
I, naturally, should want most to see the things which have become dear to me through my years of darkness. You, too, would want to let your eyes rest on the things that have become dear to you so that you could take the memory of them with you into the night that loomed before you.
If, by some miracle, I were granted three seeing days, to be followed by a relapse into darkness, I should divide the period into three parts.
The First Day
On the first day, I should want to see the people whose kindness and gentleness and companionship have made my life worth living. First I should like to gaze long upon the face of my dear teacher, Mrs. Anne Sullivan Macy, who came to me when I was a child and opened the outer world to me. I should want not merely to see the outline of her face, so that I could cherish it in my memory, but to study that face and find in it the living evidence of the sympathetic tenderness and patience with which she accomplished the difficult task of my education. I should like to see in her eyes that strength of character which has enabled her to stand firm in the face of difficulties, and that compassion for all humanity which she has revealed to me so often.
I do not know what it is to see into the heart of a friend through that "Window of the soul", the eye. I can only "see" through my finger tips the outline of a face. I can detect laughter, sorrow, and many other obvious emotions. I know my friends from the feel of their faces. But I cannot really picture their personalities by touch. I know their personalities, of course, through other means, through the thoughts they express to me, through whatever of their actions are revealed to me. But I am denied that deeper understanding of them which I am sure would come through sight of them, through watching their reactions to various expressed thoughts and circumstances, through noting the immediate and fleeting reactions of their eyes and countenance.
Friends who are near to me I know well, because through the months and years they reveal themselves to me in all their phases; but of casual friends I have only an incomplete impression, an impression gained from a handclasp, from spoken words which I take from their lips with my finger tips, or which they tap into the palm of my hand.
How much easier, how much more satisfying it is for you who can see to grasp quickly the essential qualities of another person by watching the subtleties of expression, the quiver of a muscle, the flutter of a hand. But does it ever occur to you to use your sight to see into the inner nature of a friends or acquaintance/ Do not most of you seeing people grasp casually the outward features of a face and let it go at that?
For instance can you describe accurately the faces of five good friends? some of you can, but many cannot. As an experiment, I have questioned husbands of long standing about the color of their wives' eyes, and often they express embarrassed confusion and admit that they do not know. And, incidentally, it is a chronic complaint of wives that their husbandsdo not notice new dresses, new hats, and changes in household arrangements.
The eyes of seeing persons soon become accustomed to the routine of their surroundings, and they actually see only the startling and spectacular. But even in viewing the most spectacular sights the eyes are lazy. Court records reveal every day how inaccurately "eyewitnesses" see. A given event will be "seen" in several different ways by as many witnesses. Some see more than others, but few see everything that is within the range of their vision.
Oh, the things that I should see if I had the power of sight for just three days!
The first day would be a busy one.
I should call to me all my dear friends and look long into their faces, imprinting upon my mind the outward evidences of the beauty that is within them. I should let my eyes rest, too, on the face of a baby, so that I could catch a vision of the eager, innocent beauty which precedes the individual's consciousness of the conflicts which life develops.
And I should like to look into the loyal, trusting eyes of my dogs - the grave, canny little Scottie, Darkie, and the stalwart, understanding Great Dane, Helga, whose warm, tender , and playful friendships are so comforting to me.
On that busy first day I should also view the small simple things of my home. I want to see the warm colors in the rugs under my feet, the pictures on the walls, the intimate trifles that transform a house into home. My eyes would rest respectfully on the books in raised type which I have read, but they would be more eagerly interested in the printed books which seeing people can read, for during the long night of my life the books I have read and those which have been read to me have built themselves into a great shining lighthouse, revealing to me the deepest channels of human life and the human spirit.
In the afternoon of that first seeing day. I should take a long walk in the woods and intoxicate my eyes on the beauties of the world of Nature trying desperately to absorb in a few hours the vast splendor which is constantly unfolding itself to those who can see. On the way home from my woodland jaunt my path would lie near a farm so that I might see the patient horses ploughing in the field 9perhaps I should see only a tractor!) and the serene content of men living close to the soil. And I should pray for the glory of a colorful sunset.
When dusk had fallen, I should experience the double delight of being able to see by artificial light which the genius of man has created to extend the power of his sight when Nature decrees darkness.
In the night of that first day of sight, I should not be able to sleep, so full would be my mind of the memories of the day.
The Second Day
The next day - the second day of sight - I should arisewith the dawn and see the thrilling miracle by which night is transformed into day. I should behold with awe the magnificent panorama of light with which the sun awakens the sleeping earth.
This day I should devote to a hasty glimpse of the world, past and present. I should want to see the pageant of man's progress, the kaleidoscope of the ages. How can so much be compressed into one day? Through the museums, of course. Often I have visited the New York Museum of Natural History to touch with my hands many of the objects there exhibited, butI have longed to see with my eyes the condensed history of the earth and its inhabitants displayed there - animals and the races of men pictured in their native environment; gigantic carcasses of dinosaurs and mastodons which roamed the earth long before man appeared, with his tiny stature and powerful brain, to conquer the animal kingdom; realistic presentations of the processes of development in animals, in man, and in the implements which man has used to fashion for himself a secure home on this planet; and a thousand and one other aspects of natural history.
I wonder how many readers of this article have viewed this panorama of the face of living things as pictured in that inspiring museum. Many, of course, have not had the opportunity, but I am sure that many who have had the opportunity have not made use of it. there, indeed, is a place to use your eyes. You who see can spend many fruitful days there, but I with my imaginary three days of sight, could only take a hasty glimpse, and pass on.
My next stop would be the Metropolitan Museum of Art, for just as the Museum of Natural History reveals the material aspects of the world, so does the Metropolitan show the myriad facets of the human spirit. Throughout the history of humanity the urge to artistic expression has been almost as powerful as the urge for food, shelter, and procreation. And here , in the vast chambers of the Metropolitan Museum, is unfolded before me the spirit of Egypt, Greece, and Rome, as expressed in their art. I know well through my hands the sculptured gods and goddesses of the ancient Nile-land. I have felt copies of Parthenon friezes, and I have sensed the rhythmic beauty of charging Athenian warriors. Apollos and Venuses and the Winged Victory of Samothrace are friends of my finger tips. The gnarled, bearded features of Homer are dear to me, for he, too, knew blindness.
My hands have lingered upon the living marble of roman sculpture as well as that of later generations. I have passed my hands over a plaster cast of Michelangelo's inspiring and heroic Moses; I have sensed the power of Rodin; I have been awed by the devoted spirit of Gothic wood carving. These arts which can be touched have meaning for me, but even they were meant to be
seen rather than felt, and I can only guess at the beauty which remains hidden from me. I can admire the simple lines of a Greek vase, but its figured decorations are lost to me.
So on this, my second day of sight, I should try to probe into the soul of man through this art. The things I knew through touch I should now see. More splendid still, the whole magnificent world of painting would be opened to me, from the Italian Primitives, with their serene religious devotion, to the Moderns, with their feverish visions. I should look deep into the canvases of Raphael, Leonardo da Vinci, Titian, Rembrandt. I should want to feast my eyes upon the warm colors of Veronese, study the mysteries of E1 Greco, catch a new vision of Nature from Corot. Oh, there is so much rich meaning and beauty in the art of the ages for you who have eyes to see!
Upon my short visit to this temple of art I should not be able to review a fraction of that great world of art which is open to you. I should be able to get only a superficial impression. Artists tell me that fordeep and true appreciation of art one must educated the eye. One must learn through experience to weigh the merits of line, of composition, of form and color. If I had eyes, how happily would I embark upon so fascinating a study! Yet I am told that, to many of you who have eyes to see, the world of art is a dark night,unexplored and unilluminated.
It would be with extreme reluctance that I should leave the Metropolitan Museum, which contains the key to beauty -- a beauty so neglected. Seeing persons, however, do not need a metropolitan to find this key to beauty. The same key lies waiting in smaller museums, and in books on the shelves of even small libraries. But naturally, in my limited time of imaginary sight, I should choose the place where the key unlocks the greatest treasures in the shortest time.
The evening of my second day of sight I should spend at a theatre or at the movies. Even now I often attend theatrical performances of all sorts, but the action of the play must be spelled into my hand by a companion. But how I should like to see with my own eyes the fascinating figure of Hamlet, or the gusty Falstaff amid colorful Elizabethan trappings! How I should like to follow each movement of the graceful Hamlet, each strut of the hearty Falstaff! And since I could see only one play, I should be confronted by a many-horned dilemma, for there are scores of plays I should want to see. You who have eyes can see any you like. How many of you, I wonder, when you gaze at a play, a movie, or any spectacle, realize and give thanks for the miracle of sight which enables you to enjoy its color , grace, and movement?
I cannot enjoy the beauty of rhythmic movement except in a sphere restricted to the touch of my hands. I can vision only dimly the grace of a Pavlowa, although I know something of the delight of rhythm, for often I can sense the beat of music as it vibrates through the floor. I can well imagine that cadenced motion must be one of the most pleasing sights in the world. I have been able to gather something of this by tracing with my fingers the lines in sculptured marble; if this static grace can be so lovely, how much more acute must be the thrill of seeing grace in motion.
One of my dearest memories is of the time when Joseph Jefferson allowed me to touch his face and hands as he went through some of the gestures and speeches of his beloved Rip Van Winkle. I was able to catch thus a meager glimpse of the world of drama, and I shall never forget the delight of that moment. But, oh, how much I must miss, and how much pleasure you seeing ones can derive from watching and hearing the interplay of speech and movement in the unfolding of a dramatic performance! If I could see only one play, I should know how to picture in mymind the action of a hundred plays which I have read or had transferred to me through the medium of the manual alphabet.
So, through the evening of my second imaginary day of sight, the great fingers of dramatic literature would crowd sleep from my eyes.
The Third Day
The following morning, I should again greet the dawn, anxious to discover new delights, for I am sure that, for those who have eyes which really see, the dawn of each day must be a perpetually new revelation of beauty.
This, according to the terms of my imagined miracle, is to be my third and last day of sight. I shall have no time to waste in regrets or longings; there is too much to see. The first day I devoted to my friends, animate and inanimate. The second revealed to me the history of man and Nature. Today I shall spend in the workaday world of the present, amid the haunts of men going about the business of life. And where can one find so many activities and conditions of men as in New York? So the city becomes my destination.
I start from my home in the quiet little suburb of Forest Hills, Long Island. Here , surrounded by green lawns, trees, and flowers, are neat little houses, happy with the voices and movements of wives and children, havens of peaceful rest for men who toil in the city. I drive across the lacy structure of steel which spans the East River, and I get a new and startling vision of the power and ingenuity of the mind of man. Busy boasts chug and scurry about the river - racy speed boat, stolid, snorting tugs. If I had long days of sight ahead, I should spend many of them watching the delightful activity upon the river.
I look ahead, and before me rise the fantastic towers of New York, a city that seems to have stepped from the pages of a fairy story. What an awe-inspiring sight, these glittering spires. these vast banks of stone and steel-structures such as the gods might build for themselves! This animated picture is a part of the lives of millions of people every day.
How many, I wonder, give it so much as a seconds glance? Very few, I fear, Their eyes are blind to this magnificent sight because it is so familiar to them.
I hurry to the top of one of those gigantic structures, the Empire State Building, for there , a short time ago, I "saw" the city below through the eyes of my secretary. I am anxious to compare my fancy with reality. I am sure I should not be disappointed in the panorama spread out before me, for to me it would be a vision of another world.
Now I begin my rounds of the city. First, I stand at a busy corner, merely looking at people, trying by sight of them to understand something of their live. I see smiles, and I am happy. I see serious determination, and I am proud, I see suffering, and I am compassionate.
I stroll down Fifth Avenue. I throw my eyes out of focus, so that I see no particular object but only a seething kaleidoscope of colors. I am certain that the colors of women's dresses moving in a throng must be a gorgeous spectacle of which I should never tire. But perhaps if I had sight I should be like most other women -- too interested in styles and the cut of individual dresses to give much attention to the splendor of color in the mass. And I am convinced, too, that I should become an inveterate window shopper, for it must be a delight to the eye to view the myriad articles of beauty on display.
From Fifth Avenue I make a tour of the city-to Park Avenue, to the slums, to factories, to parks where children play. I take a stay-at-home trip abroad by visiting the foreign quarters. Always my eyes are open wide to all the sights of both happiness and misery so that I may probe deep and add to my understanding of how people work and live. my heart is full of the images of people and things. My eye passes lightly over no single trifle; it strives to touch and hold closely each thing its gaze rests upon. Some sights are pleasant, filling the heart with happiness; but some are miserably pathetic. To these latter I do not shut my eyes, for they, too, are part of life. To close the eye on them is to close the heart and mind.
My third day of sight is drawing to an end. Perhaps there are many serious pursuits to which I should devote the few remaining hours, but I am afraid that on the evening of that last day I should again run away to the theater, to a hilariously funny play, so that I might appreciate the overtones of comedy in the human spirit.
At midnight my temporary respite from blindness would cease, and permanent night would close in on me again. Naturally in those three short days I should not have seen all I wanted to see. Only when darkness had again descended upon me should I realize how much I had left unseen. But my mind would be so crowded with glorious memories that I should have little time for regrets. Thereafter the touch of every object would bring a glowing memory of how that object looked.
Perhaps this short outline of how I should spend three days of sight does not agree with the program you would set for yourself if you knew that you were about to be stricken blind. I am, however, sure that if you actually faced that fate your eyes would open to things you had never seen before, storing up memories for the long night ahead. You would use your eyes as never before. Everything you saw would become dear to you. Your eyes would touch and embrace every object that came within your range of vision. Then, at last, you would really see, and a new world of beauty would open itself before you.
I who am blind can give one hint to those who see -- one admonition to those who would make full use of the gift of sight: Use your eyes as if tomorrow you would be stricken blind.
And the same method can be applied to the other senses. Hear the music of voices, the song of a bird, the mighty strains of an orchestra, as if you would be stricken deaf tomorrow.
Touch each object you want to touch as if tomorrow your tactile sense would fail. Smell the perfume of flowers, taste with relish each morsel, as if tomorrow you could never s
mell and taste again. Make the most of every sense: glory in all the facets of pleasure and beauty which the world reveals to you through the several means of contact which Nature provides. But of all the senses, I am sure that sight must be the most delightful.#p#副标题#e#
浏览量:2
下载量:0
时间:
《安妮日记》是安妮·弗兰克遇难前两年藏身密室时写下的生活和情感的记录。今天读文网小编为大家带来安妮日记英文版摘抄,欢迎大家阅读!
MONDAY, JUNE 15, 1942
I had my birthday party on Sunday afternoon. The Rin Tin Tin movie was a big hit with my classmates. I got two brooches, a bookmark and two books. I'll start by saying a few things about my school and my class, beginning with the students.
Betty Bloemendaal looks kind of poor, and I think she probably is. She lives on some obscure street in West Amsterdam, and none of us know where it is. She does very well at school, but that's because she works so hard, not because she's so smart. She's pretty quiet.
Jacqueline van Maarsen is supposedly my best friend, but I've never had a real friend. At first I thought Jacque would be one, but I was badly mistaken.
D.Q.* [* Initials have been assigned at random to those persons who prefer to remain anonymous.] is a very nervous girl who's always forgetting things, so the teachers keep assigning her extra homework as punishment. She's very kind, especially to G.Z.
E.S. talks so much it isn't funny. She's always touching your hair or fiddling with your buttons when she asks you something. They say she can't stand me, but I don't care, since I don't like her much either.
Henny Mets is a nice girl with a cheerful disposition, except that she talks in a loud voice and is really childish when we're playing outdoors. Unfortunately, Henny has a girlfriend named Beppy who's a bad influence on her because she's dirty and vulgar.
J.R. - I could write a whole book about her. J. is a detestable, sneaky, stuck-up, two-faced gossip who thinks she's so grown-up. She's really got Jacque under her spell, and that's a shame. J. is easily offended, bursts into tears at the slightest thing and, to top it all off, is a terrible show-off. Miss J. always has to be right. She's very rich, and has a closet full of the most adorable dresses that are way too old for her. She thinks she's gorgeous, but she's not. J. and I can't stand each other.
Ilse Wagner is a nice girl with a cheerful disposition, but she's extremely fInicky and can spend hours moaning and groaning about something. Ilse likes me a lot. She's very smart, but lazy.
Hanneli Goslar, or Lies as she's called at school, is a bit on the strange side. She's usually shy -- outspoken at horne, but reserved around other people. She blabs whatever you tell her to her mother. But she says what she thinks, and lately I've corne to appreciate her a great deal.
Nannie van Praag-Sigaar is small, funny and sensible. I think she's nice. She's pretty smart. There isn't much else you can say about Nannie. Eefje de Jong is, in my opinion, terrific. Though she's only twelve, she's quite the lady. She acts as if I were a baby. She's also very helpful, and I like her.
G.Z. is the prettiest girl in our class. She has a nice face, but is kind of dumb. I think they're going to hold her back a year, but of course I haven't told her that.
COMMENT ADDED BY ANNE AT A LATER DATE: To my areat surprise, G.Z. wasn't held back a year after all.
And sitting next to G.Z. is the last of us twelve girls, me.
There's a lot to be said about the boys, or maybe not so much after all.
Maurice Coster is one of my many admirers, but pretty much of a pest. Sallie Springer has a filthy mind, and rumor has it that he's gone all the way. Still, I think he's terrific, because he's very funny.
Emiel Bonewit is G.Z.'s admirer, but she doesn't care. He's pretty boring. Rob Cohen used to be in love with me too, but I can't stand him anymore. He's an obnoxious, two-faced, lying, sniveling little goof who has an awfully high opinion of himself.
Max van de Velde is a farm boy from Medemblik, but eminently suitable, as Margot would say.
Herman Koopman also has a filthy mind, just like Jopie de Beer, who's a terrible flirt and absolutely girl-crazy.
Leo Blom is Jopie de Beer's best friend, but has been ruined by his dirty mind.
Albert de Mesquita came from the Montessori School and skipped a grade. He's really smart.
Leo Slager came from the same school, but isn't as smart.
Ru Stoppelmon is a short, goofy boy from Almelo who transferred to this school in the middle of the year.
C.N. does whatever he's not supposed to.
Jacques Kocernoot sits behind us, next to C., and we (G. and I) laugh ourselves silly.
Harry Schaap is the most decent boy in our class. He's nice.
Werner Joseph is nice too, but all the changes taking place lately have made him too quiet, so he seems boring. Sam Salomon is one of those tough guys from across the tracks. A real brat. (Admirer!)
Appie Riem is pretty Orthodox, but a brat too.
浏览量:5
下载量:0
时间:
1、Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall. (Measure for Measure 2.1)
有些人因罪恶而升迁,有些人因德行而没落。——《一报还一报》
2、O, it is excellent to have a giant’s strength; but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant. (Measure for Measure 2.1)
有巨人的力量固然好,但像巨人那样滥用力量就是一种残暴行为。——《一报还一报》
3、I’ll pray a thousand prayers for thy death but no word to save thee. (Measure for Measure 3.1)
我要千遍祷告让你死,也不祈求一字救你命。——《一报还一报》
4、O, what may man within him hide, though angel on the outward side! (Measure for Measure 3.2)
唉!一个人外表可以装得像天使,但却可能把自己掩藏在内心深处!——《一报还一报》
5、Since the little wit that fools have was silenc’d, the little foolery that wise men have makes a great show. (As You Like It, 1.2)
自从傻子小小的聪明被压制得无声无息,聪明人小小的傻气显得更吸引眼球了。——《皆大欢喜》
6、Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. (As You Like It, 1.3)
美貌比金银更容易引起歹心。——《皆大欢喜》
7、Sweet are the uses of adversity. (As You Like It, 2.1)
逆境和厄运自有妙处。——《皆大欢喜》
8、Do you not know I am a woman? When I think, I must speak. (As You Like It, 3.2)
你难道不知道我是女人?我心里想什么,就会说出来。——《皆大欢喜》
9、Love is merely a madness. (As You Like It, 3.2)
爱情不过是一种疯狂。——《皆大欢喜》
10、O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man’s eyes! (As You Like It)
唉!从别人的眼中看到幸福,自己真有说不出的酸楚!——《皆大欢喜》
11、It is a wise father that knows his own child. (A Merchant of Venice 2.2)
知子之父为智。——《威尼斯商人》
12、Love is blind and lovers cannot see the pretty follies that themselves commit. (A Merchant of Venice 2.6)
爱情是盲目的,恋人们看不到自己做的傻事。——《威尼斯商人》
13、All that glisters is not gold. (A Merchant of Venice 2.7)
闪光的并不都是金子。——《威尼斯商人》
14、So is the will of a living daughter curb’d by the will of a dead father. (A Merchant of Venice 1.2)
一个活生生的女人的意愿,却被过世的父亲的遗嘱所限。——《威尼斯商人》
15、The quality of mercy is not strained. (A Merchant of Venice 4.1)
慈悲不是出于勉强。——《威尼斯商人》
16、The course of true love never did run smooth. (A Midsummer Night’s Dream 1.1)
真爱无坦途。 ——《仲夏夜之梦》/真诚的爱情之路永不会是平坦的。
17、Things base and vile, holding no quantity, love can transpose to from and dignity: love looks not with the eyes, but with mind. (A Midsummer Night’s Dream 1.1)
卑贱和劣行在爱情看来都不算数,都可以被转化成美满和庄严:爱情不用眼睛辨别,而是用心灵来判断/爱用的不是眼睛,而是心。——《仲夏夜之梦》
18、Lord, what fools these mortals be! (A Midsummer Night’s Dream 3.2)
上帝呀,这些凡人怎么都是十足的傻瓜!——《仲夏夜之梦》
19、The lunatic, the lover and the poet are of imagination all compact. (A Midsummer Night’s Dream 5.1)
疯子、情人、诗人都是想象的产儿。——《仲夏夜之梦》
20、Beauty, wit, high birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, love, friendship, charity, are subjects all to envious and calumniating time. (Troilus and Cressida 3.3)
美貌、智慧、门第、臂力,事业、爱情、友谊和仁慈,都必须听命于妒忌而无情的时间。——《特洛伊罗斯与克瑞西达》
21、You gods divine! Make Cressida’s name the very crown of falsehood, if ever she leave Troilus. (Troilus and Cressida 4.2)
神明啊!要是有一天克瑞西达背叛特罗里斯,那么就让她的名字永远被人唾骂吧!——《特洛伊罗斯与克瑞西达》
22、Beauty! Where is thy faith? (Troilus and Cressida 5.2)
美貌!你的真诚在何方?——《特洛伊罗斯与克瑞西达》
23、Take but degree away, untune that string, and, hark, what discord follows! (Troilus and Cressida 1.3)
没有了纪律,就像琴弦绷断,听吧!刺耳的噪音随之而来!——《特洛伊罗斯与克瑞西达》
24、O, she dothe teach the torches to burn bright! (Romeo and Juliet 1.5)
啊!火炬不及她那么明亮。——《罗密欧与朱丽叶》
25、My only love sprung from my only hate ! (Romeo and Juliet 1.5)
我唯一的爱来自我唯一的恨。——《罗密欧与朱丽叶》
26、What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet. (Romeo and Juliet 2.2)
名字中有什么呢?把玫瑰叫成别的名字,它还是一样的芬芳。——《罗密欧与朱丽叶》/名称有什么关系呢?玫瑰不叫玫瑰,依然芳香如故。
27、Young men’s love then lies not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. (Romeo and Juliet 2.3)
年轻人的爱不是发自内心,而是全靠眼睛。——《罗密欧与朱丽叶》
28、It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. (Romeo and Juliet 2.2)
那是东方,而朱丽叶就是太阳。——《罗密欧与朱丽叶》
29、A little more than kin, and less than kind. (Hamlet 1.2)
超乎寻常的亲族,漠不相关的路人。——《哈姆雷特》
30、Frailty, thy name is woman! (Hamlet 1.2)
脆弱啊,你的名字是女人!——《哈姆雷特》
31、This above all: to thine self be true. (Hamlet 1.3)
最重要的是,你必须对自己忠实。——《哈姆雷特》
32、The time is out of joint – O, cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right! (Hamlet 1.5)
这是一个礼崩乐坏的时代,唉!倒霉的我却要负起重整乾坤的责任。——《哈姆雷特》
33、Brevity is the soul of wit. (Hamlet 2.2)
简洁是智慧的灵魂,冗长是肤浅的藻饰。/言贵简洁。——《哈姆雷特》
34、There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. (Hamlet 1.5)
天地之间有许多事情,是你的睿智所无法想象的。——《哈姆雷特》/在这天地间有许多事情是人类哲学所不能解释的。
35、There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so. (Hamlet 2.2)
世上之事物本无善恶之分,思想使然。——《哈姆雷特》/没有什么事是好的或坏的,但思想却使其中有所不同。
36、To be or not to be: that is a question. (Hamlet 3.1)
生存还是毁灭,这是个值得考虑的问题。——《哈姆雷特》
37、There’s a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. (Hamlet 5.2)
一只麻雀的生死都是命运预先注定的。——《哈姆雷特》
38、The rest is silence. (Hamlet 5.2)
余下的只有沉默。——《哈姆雷特》
39、Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them. (Othello 1.2)
收起你们明晃晃的剑,它们沾了露水会生锈的。——《奥赛罗》
40、O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; it is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on. (Othello 3.3)
主帅啊,当心你会嫉妒,那可是一只绿眼的妖魔,它惯于耍弄爪下的猎物。——《奥赛罗》
41、Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, is the immediate jewel of their souls: Who steals my purse steals trash; ’tis something, nothing. (Othello 3.3)
无论男人女人,名誉是他们灵魂中最贴心的珍宝,如果有人偷走了我的钱袋,他不过偷走了一些废物,那不过是些毫无价值的东西罢了。——《奥赛罗》
42、O, curse of marriage, that we can call these delicate creatures ours, and not their appetites! (Othello 3.3)
啊!婚姻的烦恼!我们可以把这些可爱的人儿据为己有,却无法掌控她们的各种欲望。——《奥赛罗》
43、We cannot all be masters, nor all masters cannot be truly followed. (Othello 1.3)
不是每个人都能做主人,也不是每个主人都能值得仆人忠心的服侍。——《奥赛罗》
44、Nothing will come of nothing. (King Lear 1.1)
一无所有只能换来一无所有。——《李尔王》
45、Love’s not love when it is mingled with regards that stands aloof from th’entire point. (King Lear 1.1)
爱情里面要是搀杂了和它本身无关的算计,那就不是真的爱情。——《李尔王》
46、How sharper than a serpent's tooth is to have a thankless child. (King Lear 1.4)
逆子无情甚于蛇蝎。——《李尔王》
47、Blow, winds, and crack cheeks! Rage! Blow! (King Lear 3.2)
吹吧!风啊!吹破你的脸颊,猛烈地吹吧!——《李尔王》
48、‘Tis this times’ plague, when madmen lead the blind. (King Lear 4.1)
疯子带瞎子走路,这就是这个时代的病态。——《李尔王》
49、Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, and thou no breath at all? (King Lear 5.3)
为什么一条狗,一匹马,一只耗子都有生命,而你却没有一丝的呼吸。——《李尔王》
50、Fair is foul, and foul is fair. (Macbeth 1.1)
浏览量:3
下载量:0
时间:
想必经常玩LOL的玩家对亚索一定不陌生吧,下面小编来整理下关于亚索的资料,感兴趣的来看看哦!以下是亚索的个人简介以及亚索的英文台词。
疾风剑豪亚索是实时对战、大型3D网络游戏《英雄联盟》里面第117位英雄。疾风剑豪亚索他是一位近战爆发AD刺客,双突进的技能设置,使得他在中单游刃有余,并且大招在队友的配合下,在团战中能够发挥至关重要的作用。
出场台词 Upon Selection
死亡如风,常伴吾身。"Death is like the wind; always by my side."
行动台词 Action
移动 Movement
长路漫漫,惟剑做伴。 "A sword's poor company for a long road."
吾之荣耀,离别已久。 "My honor left a long time ago."
宁日安在,无人能云。 "No-one is promised tomorrow."
且随疾风前行,身后亦须留心。 "Follow the wind, but watch your back."
此剑之势,愈斩愈烈。 "This blade never gets any lighter."
仁义道德,也是一种奢侈。 "Virtue is no more than a luxury."
灭亡之路,短的超乎你的想象。 "The road to ruin is shorter than you think."
无罪之人,方可安睡。 "Sleep is for the guiltless."
正义,好个冠冕堂皇之词。 "Justice. That's a pretty word."
回首往昔,更进一步。 "Hmph. One step ahead of the past."
吾虽浪迹天涯,却未迷失本心。 "A wanderer isn't always lost."
我还在寻找回家的路。 "Just looking for a road home."
不可久留于一处。 "Never could stay in one place."
我将遵循此道,直至终结。 "I will follow this path until the end."
荣耀存于心,而非流于形。 "Honor is in the heart, not the name."
吾之初心,永世不忘。 "I will not forget who I am."
这个故事还没有完结。"This story is not yet finished."
树叶的一生,只是为了归根吧? "Is a leaf's only purpose to fall?"
汝欲赴死,易如反掌。"Hmph... dying's the easy part
浏览量:3
下载量:0
时间:
詹姆士·邦德。他既是一个出色的间谍,也是一位风度翩翩的绅士。他举止文雅,衣着得体。他的衣服出自最好的裁缝之手,从不起皱。他常驾驶一辆与众不同的跑车(阿斯顿马丁),并配有杀人执照。他有许多的敌人,都是世界上最危险的敌人。他们中的许多人只有一个欲望,那就是统治整个世界和世界上的所有人。詹姆士·邦德的任务就是要阻止他们的野心。他总是以它独特的方式杀死敌人。在没有比詹姆士·邦德的故事结局更有戏剧性了!感兴趣的来看一下吧!下面有詹姆斯·邦德的经典语录。
詹姆斯·邦德(James Bond),是《007》系列小说、电影的主角。小说原作者是英国作家伊恩·弗莱明(Ian Fleming)。在故事里,他是英国情报机构军情六处的特工,代号007,被授权可以干掉任何妨碍行动的人。他的上司是一位神秘人物“M”,他还有一位好搭档Q,专门为他提供各种高科技武器。到目前为止,已有了六位扮演者。其中最著名的要数第一位和第五位--肖恩·康纳利与皮尔斯·布鲁斯南。
剧情简介
Dryden:Shame.We barely got to know each other.
赖安:真遗憾,我们之间还了解甚少。
James Bond:I know where you keep your gun.I suppose that's something.
詹姆斯·邦德:我知道你把枪放在哪里,所以我还是了解你的。
James Bond:Sorry.I'll shoot the camera first next time.
詹姆斯·邦德:对不起,下次我会先射爆摄影机。(邦德大闹大使馆,被监控了)
James Bond:Can I give you a lift home?
詹姆斯·邦德:我送你回去可以吗?
That would really send him over the edge.I'm afraid I'm not that cruel.
索兰:那他一定会气疯的,我害怕我没那么无情。
James Bond:Well,perhaps you're just out of practice.
詹姆斯·邦德:可能你只是欠缺练习而已。
Perhaps.
索兰:也许吧。
You like married women,don't you,James?
索兰:詹姆斯,你是不是喜欢已婚女人啊?
James Bond:It keeps things simple.
詹姆斯·邦德:这样会让事情简单。
詹姆斯·邦德:你根本不合我的口味。
Vesper Lynd:Smart?
维斯帕·林德:太聪明了?
James Bond:Single.
詹姆斯·邦德:未婚。
Vesper Lynd:You can switch off so easily,can't you?It doesn't bother you,killing those people?
维斯帕·林德:你转换状态很容易,是不是?杀了那些人你也不放在心上?
James Bond:Well,I wouldn't be very good at my job if it did.
詹姆斯·邦德:如果在意的话,那么我就无法做好我的工作。
James Bond:Now the whole world's gonna know that you died scratching my balls.
詹姆斯·邦德:现在全世界都知道你死的时候,在帮我的蛋蛋抓痒痒了。
Vesper Lynd:You know,James,I just want you to know that if all that was left of you was your smile and your little finger you'd still be more of a man anyone I've ever met.
维斯帕·林德:知道吗,詹姆斯,就算你只剩下微笑和手指,你仍然是我见过的最Man的男人。
James Bond:That's because you know what I can do with my little finger.
詹姆斯·邦德:因为你知道我用手指可以做什么。
James Bond:I have no armor left.You've stripped it from me.Whatever is left of me...Whatever is left of me...whatever I am I'm yours.
詹姆斯·邦德:我没有铠甲了,已经被你剥去了。我所剩下的,不管我还剩下什么,不管怎样,我都是你的。
Vesper Lynd:You love me?
维斯帕·林德:你爱我吗?
James Bond:Enough to quit and float round the world with you until one of us has to find an honest job.But I think that's gonna have to be you.I've no idea what an honest job.
詹姆斯·邦德:我爱你,爱到愿意辞职跟你去周游世界,直到我们有人先找到正当的职业为止,不过我想那个人一定是你,因为我对正当职早就没什么定义。
Vesper Lynd:You're serious.
浏览量:3
下载量:0
时间:
情感是态度这一整体中的一部分,它与态度中的内向感受、意向具有协调一致性,是态度在生理上一种较复杂而又稳定的生理评价和体验。情感包括道德感和价值感两个方面,具体表现为爱情、幸福、仇恨、厌恶、美感等等。那么你知道情感用英语怎么说吗?下面来学习一下吧。
情感因素 emotional factors ; affective factors ; affective element ; Emotion factor seepage
情感智力 Emotional Intelligence ; intelligence ; emotioning intelligence ; Emotional Quotient
真实情感 real Emotion ; true feelings
品牌情感 brand emotion ; brand attachment ; brand affect ; brand feeling
情感设计 Emotional Design
情感激励 emotion drive ; Emotional Encouraging ; Emotional Incentive
情感曲线 Emotion Curve ; feeling curve
情感依附 emotional attachment ; Affective attachment
浏览量:2
下载量:0
时间:
爱情是人与人之间的强烈的依恋、亲近、向往,以及无私专一并且无所不尽其心的情感。下面读文网小编为大家带来英文唯美情感语录,欢迎大家阅读!
1、you are so beautiful that you take my breath away。 你太美了,美得让我窒息。
2、everytime i look at you, my heart misses a beat。每次看着你,我的心都会漏跳一拍。
3、i need him like i need the air to breathe。我需要他,正如我需要呼吸空气。
4、i just wanna be with you, that’s all。我只是想和你在一起,就只是这样而已。
5、the same love that makes me laugh makes cry。同一份爱,让我笑,也让我哭。
6、a day without you is like a day without sunshine。没有你的日子就如同没有阳光。
7、with love one can live even without haooiness。有爱,即使没有幸福,一个人也能生存。
8、your smiling at me is my daily dose of magic。你嫣然的微笑是我每日享受到的魅力。
9、there is no remedy for love but to love more。 治疗爱的创伤唯有加倍地去爱。
10、where there is great love, there are always miracles。哪里有真爱存在,哪里就有奇迹。
11、it’s an open heart that’s vulnerable to the deepest wound。敞开的心,伤得最深。
12、we are all looking for someone who understands us。我们都在寻找一个懂我们的人。
13、time heals almost everything。give time time。时间几乎能治愈一切,请给时间一点时间。
14、where there is great love, there are always miracles。 哪里有真爱存在,哪里就有奇迹。
15、there is no remedy for love but to love more。为爱疗伤的方法就是更加疯狂的去爱。
16、i miss you so much already and i haven't even left yet! 尽管还不曾离开,我已对你朝思暮想!
17、love is hard to get into, but harder to get out of。爱很难投入,但一旦投入,便更难走出。
18、i love you because you bring the best out of me。我爱你,因你让我展现出最美好的那部分。
19、love is the threat to the larger i won't change any day。爱人受到的威胁愈大愈是矢志不渝。
20、tough times don’t last, but tough people do。痛苦的时日不会长久,但坚强的人会一直坚强。
21、at this happy moment。 i miss you very much。在全世界都沉浸在幸福的时刻,我更加的想念你。
22、every day without you is like a book without pages。没有你的日子就像一本没有书页的书。
23、love isn't an emotion or an instinct--it's an art。爱情不是一种情绪或者本能—它是一种艺术。
浏览量:2
下载量:0
时间:
《欢乐颂》是在1785年由德国诗人席勒所写的诗歌, 贝多芬为之谱曲,今天读文网小编为大家带来《欢乐颂》英文版歌词,希望大家喜欢!
That She Would Dishevel Her Hair
请她让她的金发散乱
Amarantba, sweet and fair,
美丽可爱的阿玛莲莎,
Ah, braid no more that shining hair:
别再编你光亮的金发吧!
As my curious hand or eye
既然我好奇的手和眼
Hovering round thee, let it 11y!
围着你打转,请任其飘散!
Let it fly as unconfined
任其无拘无束地飘扬,
As its calm ravisher the wind?
像被其迷住的和风那样;
Who hath left his darling East
它已离开心爱的东面,
To wanton o'er that spicy nest.
来这香喷喷的窝上游玩。
Every tress must be contest,
每绺金发须展现出来,
But neatly tangled at the best;
但是得绝美地绞在一块;
Like a clue of golden thread
就像金色的线一大团,
Most excellently revelled.
虽然有点乱却妙得非凡‘
Do not, then,wind up that light
所以,可别用缎带束起
In ribands, and o'ercloud in night,
那光明笼进夜的乌云里,
Like the Sun in's early ray;
就像凌晨太阳的光线;
But shake your head, and scatter day!
请把头一甩,撒出个白天!
浏览量:2
下载量:0
时间:
爱情是人与人之间的强烈的依恋、亲近、向往,以及无私专一并且无所不尽其心的情感。下面读文网小编为大家带来经典英文情感语录精选,欢迎大家阅读!
1、时间会摒弃那些滑稽的誓言,直至我们也苟同。 time will abandon those funny oath, until we also agree。
2、爱情是一种对抑制不住的欲望的不可抵御的向往。love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired。
3、如果语言无法表达,我愿意用生命证明。 if the language can not express, i am willing to prove that life。
4、演戏别演太真,否则会伤痕累累。do not play too true acting, otherwise it will bear the scars。
5、每段青春都会苍老,但我希望记忆里的你一直都好。each youth will be old, but i hope that your memories have been good。
6、没有了你.这个世界多么寂寞。 what a loveiy world it well be with you away。
7、幸福是孤寂的灵魂遭遇爱的邂逅。 happiness is when the desolated soul meets love
8、你用你那温柔的眼神,杀死了我要遗忘你的我。you use your gentle eyes, killed who want to forget you。
9、每一次晚安,感受着彼此的情感。 every time a good night, feeling each other's feelings。
10、只因那时年少,总把未来想的太好。 because when young, with a total want of good in the future。
11、我们之间仅隔一步,而我却不能迈向你。between us are only separated by one step, and i can not move you。
12、有时候,心中所承受之重是无法用言语来表达的。 sometimes words cannot express the burden of our heart
13、爱情,要么让人成熟,要么让人堕落。love makes man grow up or sink down。
14、爱情的秘密在双方的心灵中生成,但形体是表白爱惜的书。 love's mysteries in souls do grow, but yet the body in his book。
15、我们爱别人太早,爱自己太迟。 we love others too early, self love too late。
16、想念变习惯,遗忘变习惯,孤单变习惯。miss become habit, forgotten become habit, lonely become habit。
17、爱情浸过纸,演绎忧伤。love soaked in paper, deduce sadness。
18、我们没有任何选择的余地,只有背道而驰。we don't have any choice, only run in opposite directions。
19、消失的是记忆。而留下的才是刻骨铭心的回忆。 disappear a memory。 and leaving is unforgettable memories。
20、人生有时候,总是很讽刺。一转身可能就是一世。life sometimes, always is ironic。 a turn round is probably i。
21、你说过爱我一万年,誓言变成了谎言。you said that love me for a million years。 oath to become a lie。
22、苍白的文字有谁会看出这一个人的辛酸。 pale words who can see this person's bitter
23、没有人值得你流泪,值得让你这么做的人不会让你哭泣。 no man or woman is worth your tears, and the one who is, won't make you cry。
浏览量:2
下载量:0
时间: