英语阅读理解与分析

英语阅读理解100篇（中级篇）-32

Passage Thirty-two (The Young Generation)

Old people are always saying that the young are not what they were. The same comment is made from generation to generation and it is always true. It has never been truer than it is today. The young are better educated. They have a lot more money to spend and enjoy more freedom. They grow up more quickly and are not so dependent on their parents. They think more for themselves and do not blindly accept the ideals of their elders. Events which the older generation remembers vividly are nothing more than past history. This is as it should be. Every new generation is different from the one that preceded it. Today the difference is very marked indeed.

The old always assume that they know best for the simple reason that they have been around a bit longer. They don’t like to feel that their values are being questioned or threatened. And this is precisely what the young are doing. They are question the assumptions of their elders and disturbing their complacency. Office hours, for instance, are nothing more than enforced slavery. Wouldn’t people work best if they were given complete freedom and responsibility? And what about clothing? Who said that all the men in the world should wear drab grey suits and convict haircuts? If we ruin our minds to more serious matters, who said that human differences can best be solved through conventional politics or by violent means, who said that human difference can best be solved through conventional politics or by violent means? Why have the older generation so often used violence to solve their problems? Why are they so unhappy and guilt-ridden in their personal lives, so obsessed with mean ambitions and the desire to amass more and more material possessions? Can anything be right with the rat-race? Haven’t the old lost touch with all that is important in life?

These are not questions the older generation can shrug off lightly. Their record over the past forty years or so hasn’t been exactly spotless. Traditionally, the young have turned to their elders for guidance. Today, the situation might be reversed. The old—if they are prepared to admit it—could learn a thing or two from their children. One of the biggest lessons they could learn is that enjoyment is not ‘sinful’. Enjoyment is a principle one could apply to all aspects of life. It is surely not wrong to enjoy your work and enjoy your leisure; to shed restricting inhibitions. It is surely not wrong to live in the present rather than in the past or future. This emphasis on the present is only to be expected because the young have grown up under the shadow of the bomb: the constant threat of complete annihilation. This is their glorious heritage. Can we be surprised that they should so often question the sanity of the generation that bequeathed it?

1. Which of the following features in the young is NOT mentioned?

[A]. Better educated. [B]. More money and freedom.

[C]. Independence. [D]. Hard work.

2. What so the young reject most?

[A]. Values. [B]. The assumption of the elders.

[C]. Conformity. [C]. Conventional ideas.

3. Why do the young stress on the present?

[A]. They have grown up under the shadow of the bomb.

[B]. They dislike the past.

[C]. They think the present world is the best.

[D]. They are afraid of destruction.

4. What can the old learn from the young generation?

[A]. Enjoyment is not sinful. [B]. People should have more leisure time.

[C]. Men might enjoy life. [D]. One should enjoy one’s work.

Vocabulary

1. reminder 使共回想起某事的东西，提示者

2. complacency 自鸣得意，自满情结

3. take leave 擅自，任意，随意

I took leave to consider this matter settled. 请原谅我认为这事已经解决了。

4. conformity 与……一致，遵从

5. guilt 有罪，内疚

6. ridden （ride 的过去分词）受……支配的，受……压迫

7. guilt-ridden 负罪感

8. amass 积累，积聚

9. a rat-race 激烈的竞争

10. shrug off 对……耸肩表示不屑一理，轻视，摆脱

11. spotless 无污点的，纯洁的

12. shed 摆脱，抛弃

13. annihilate 歼灭

14. bequeath 赠送，把……传给后代

15. sanity 头脑清醒健全

难句译注

1. convict haircut. Convict 义：罪犯。罪犯和短发两字合在一起为“囚犯理的发式”。但在这里其含义根据上下文决定。前面讲到“谁说世界上所有的男人都应穿浅灰色的西装”，后面只能译成“剪成像罪犯似的短发呢”。本义有haircut义：修理整齐的短发。整齐划一表示绅士派的工作人中作风正派，认真负责，一丝不苟的精神。作者用了convict罪犯一字表示讽刺：“罪犯也是整齐划一的短发跟绅士们的要求一样，难道他们也是作风正派，认真负责，一丝不苟吗？”

写作方法与文章大意

这是一篇论及“代沟”的文章。主要采用对比手法，一开始就提出了一个老问题：“老人们经常说年轻人不是从前那样了。这一评语代代相传，永远是对的，而今天比以前任何时候更正确。”下面几段就论述他们之不同点以及对比老少两代人的'态度。

答案祥解

1. D. 艰苦工作。这在第一段中第四句“青年一代受了更好教育，有大量的钱话，有更多的自由。他们成长的很快，不那么依赖于父母，他们独立思考得更多，不盲目接受老一代的理想……。”

A. 受更好的教育。 B. 更多的钱和自由。 C. 独立性。这三项均提及到。

2. C. 顺从。第二段集中讲到这一点。“因为老人们经常认为自己懂得多，理由就是他们经历得多。他们不喜欢自己的价值观受到怀疑或威胁。而这正是青年在做的。他们对老人们的设想提出疑问，打乱他们的自鸣得意。他们甚至敢于怀疑老一代创造了世界上可能最佳的社会。他们最反对的莫过于顺从。例如：他们说办公时间就是强制奴役，如果人们完全自由，绝对负责，他们的工作不会更好吗？而穿衣呢？谁说世界上所有的男人都该穿单调的灰色西装和剪成像罪犯似的短发？……。”这些词语都表示他们最反对的东西是遵从，“一致性”。所以

A. 价值。 B. 长者的设想。 D. 传统习俗观念。都是具体的某一点。

3. A. 他们在炸弹的阴影下成长。第三段倒数第四句起“由于年轻人是在炸弹战争的阴影下成长壮大：在不断受到全面歼灭的威胁之下，所以也只能期望他们重视目前。这是他们的光荣遗产。他们经常询问赠给他们遗产的这代人的头脑是否清醒。对此我们能表示惊讶吗？”遗产指的是第二段的种种问题所体现出来的东西，如：“谁说人类之差异能通过常规政策或暴力手段予以很好的解决？为什么老一代人常用暴力来解决他们的问题？为什么他们（老一代）个人生活那么不愉快。老有负罪感？为什么老纠缠于要积聚越来越多的物质财富？……。”

B. 他们不喜欢过去。 C. 他们认为现世界是最好的。 D. 他们害怕破坏。

4. A. 享受不是犯罪。这在第三段中间“老年人——如果他们准备承认的话——可以从他们的孩子们那里学到一两件事。他们能学的最大的课堂之一是享受不是犯罪。”“享受”是人可适用于生活各个方面的原则。从工作中获得乐处，享受闲暇时间，肯定不是错误。抛弃约束限制，生活在现在而不是生活在过去肯定也不是错。

B. 人们应有更多的闲暇。 C. 人可以享受生活。 D. 一个人应当享受工作。

四年级英语阅读理解100篇可以**粘贴

1 c 因为四本书既有关于写科幻小说的又有是科幻小说的，但都是与“科幻小说”有关的 2 D Orson Scott Card是Masterpieces这整本书的作者 而题目是其中的一则故事---“Bears Discover Fire ”，它的作者是Terry Bisson，因为“Bears Discover Fire by Terry Bisson, ” 3 A “Only 2 left in stock-order soon by Amazon.com.”因为只剩下两本了 而且价格便宜 又是小说 比前面两本写小说用书要畅销 4 A C 是说“Writing Science Fiction Fantasy”而不是”World Building”因为“This how-to book is divided into four parts: “Story-telling；”还有 “ but Anderson’s technical essay on preparing a scientifically valid world couldn’t be better” D 都是围绕“Astronaut Claire Logan”这个主人公来讲的一个故事，我们不能看出它不止一个故事 “Masterpieces”是适合新手的 因为“However, it is a great book for new science fiction readers.” 所以答案选B 不知道这样回答对你用没有

初二英语阅读理解100篇带翻译

Before I move to the city, I live in my hometown for a long time. I meet a lot of friends, we play together all the time. Lucy is my best friend, she lives next to me. I am a shy girl, but Lucy is very nice to me, later I become active. Now I miss her very much, I will go to visit her when I have vacation.

在我搬到这个城市之前,我很长一段时间都是住在我的家乡。我遇到了很多朋友,我们一起玩耍。露西是我最好的朋友,她住在我家旁边。我是一个害羞的女孩,但露西对我非常好,后来我变得活跃了。现在我非常想念她,我会在放假的时候去看望她。

100篇建议你直接去买一本阅读理解书，百度最大字数有限。

英语文章大全

教育 的进步是在改变的基础上实现的,改变的第一步就是摒弃墨守成规的教学思维,英语作为国际沟通交流的语言工具,其在全球化进程中扮演着重要的角色。下面是我带来的经典英语 文章 阅读，欢迎阅读!

经典英语文章阅读篇一

十二月的玫瑰

Roses in December

Coaches more times than not use their hearts instead of their heads to make tough decisions. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case when I realized we had a baseball conference game scheduled when our seniors would be in Washington, D.C. for the annual senior field trip. We were a team dominated by seniors, and for the first time in many years, we were in the conference race for first place. I knew we couldn’t win without our seniors, so I called the rival coach and asked to reschedule the game when everyone was available to play.

“No way,” he replied. The seniors were crushed and offered to skip the much-awaited traditional trip. I assured them they needed to go on the trip as part of their educational experience, though I really wanted to accept their offer and win and go on to the conference championship. But I did not, and on that fateful Tuesday, I wished they were there to play.

I had nine underclass players eager and excited that they finally had a chance to play. The most excited player was a young mentally challenged boy we will call Billy. Billy was, I believe, overage, but because he loved sports so much, an understanding principal had given him permission to be on the football and baseball teams. Billy lived and breathed sports and now he would finally get his chance to play. I think his happiness captured the imagination of the eight other substitute players. Billy was very **all in size, but he had a big heart and had earned the respect of his teammates with his effort and enthusia**. He was a left-handed hitter and had good baseball skills. His favorite pastime, except for the time he practiced sports, was to sit with the men at a local rural store talking about sports. On this day, I began to feel that a loss might even be worth Billy’s chance to play.

Our opponents jumped off to a four-run lead early in the game, just as expected. Somehow we came back to within one run, and that was the situation when we went to bat in the bottom of the ninth. I was pleased with our team’s effort and the constant grin on Billy’s face. If only we could win..., I thought, but that’s asking too much. If we lose by one run, it will be a victory in itself. The weakest part of our lineup was scheduled to hit, and the opposing coach put his ace pitcher in to seal the victory.

To our surprise, with two outs, a batter walked, and the tying run was on first base. Our next hitter was Billy. The crowd cheered as if this were the final inning of the conference championship, and Billy waved jubilantly. I knew he would be unable to hit this pitcher, but what a day it had been for all of us. Strike one. Strike two. A fastball. Billy hit it down the middle over the right fielder’s head for a triple to tie the score. Billy was beside himself, and the crowd went wild.

Ben, our next hitter, however, hadn’t hit the ball even once in batting practice or intrasquad games. I knew there was absolutely no way for the impossible dream to continue. Besides, our opponents had the top of their lineup if we went into overtime. It was a crazy situation and one that needed reckless strategy.

I called a time-out, and everyone seemed confused when I walked to third base and whispered something to Billy. As expected, Ben swung on the first two pitches, not coming close to either. When the catcher threw the ball back to the pitcher Billy broke from third base sprinting as hard as he could. The pitcher didn’t see him break, and when he did he whirled around wildly and fired the ball home. Billy dove in head first, beat the throw, and scored the winning run. This was not the World Series, but don’t tell that to anyone present that day. Tears were shed as Billy, the hero, was lifted on the shoulders of all eight team members.

If you go through town today, forty-two years later, you’ll likely see Billy at that same country store relating to an admiring group the story of the day he won the game that no one expected to win. Of all the spectacular events in my sports career, this memory is the highlight. It exemplified what sports can do for people, and Billy’s great day proved that to everyone who saw the game.

J. M. Barrie, the playwright, may have said it best when he wrote, “God gave us memories so that we might have roses in December.” Billy gave all of us a rose garden.

经典英语文章阅读篇二

Big Red

The first time we set eyes on "Big Red," father, mother and I were trudging through the freshly fallen snow on our way to Hubble's Hardware store on Main Street in Huntsville, Ontario. We planned to enter our name in the annual Christmas drawing for a chance to win a hamper filled with fancy tinned cookies, tea, fruit and candy. As we passed the Eaton's department store's window, we stopped as usual to gaze and do a bit of dreaming.

The gaily decorated window display held the best toys ever. I took an instant hankering for a huge green wagon. It was big enough to haul three armloads of firewood, two buckets of swill or a whole summer's worth of pop bottles picked from along the highway. There were skates that would make Millar's Pond well worth shovelling and dolls much too pretty to play with. And they were all nestled snugly beneath the breathtakingly flounced skirt of Big Red.

Mother's eyes were glued to the massive flare of red shimmering satin, dotted with twinkling sequin-centred black velvet stars. "My goodness," she managed to say in trancelike wonder. "Would you just look at that dress!" Then, totally out of character, mother twirled one spin of a waltz on the slippery sidewalk. Beneath the heavy, wooden-buttoned, grey wool coat she had worn every winter for as long as I could remember, mother lost her balance and tumbled. Father quickly caught her.

Her cheeks redder than usual, mother swatted dad for laughing. "Oh, stop that!" she ordered, shooing his fluttering hands as he swept the snow from her coat. "What a silly dress to be perched up there in the window of Eaton's!" She shook her head in disgust. "Who on earth would want such a splashy dress?"

As we continued down the street, mother turned back for one more look. "My goodness! You'd think they'd display something a person could use!"

Christmas was nearing, and the red dress was soon forgotten. Mother, of all people, was not one to wish for, or spend money on, items that were not practical. "There are things we need more than this," she'd always say, or, "There are things we need more than that."

Father, on the other hand, liked to indulge whenever the budget allowed. Of course, he'd get a scolding for his occasional splurging, but it was all done with the best intention.

Like the time he brought home the electric range. In our old Muskoka farmhouse on Oxtongue Lake, Mother was still cooking year-round on a wood stove. In the summer, the kitchen would be so hot even the houseflies wouldn't come inside. Yet, there would be Mother – roasting - right along with the pork and turnips.

One day, Dad surprised her with a fancy new electric range. She protested, of course, saying that the wood stove cooked just dandy, that the electric stove was too dear and that it would cost too much hydro to run it. All the while, however, she was polishing its already shiny chrome knobs. In spite of her objections, Dad and I knew that she cherished that new stove.

There were many other modern things that old farm needed, like indoor plumbing and a clothes dryer, but Mom insisted that those things would have to wait until we could afford them. Mom was forever doing chores - washing laundry by hand, tending the pigs and working in our huge garden - so she always wore mended, cotton-print housedresses and an apron to protect the front. She did have one or two "special" dresses saved for church on Sundays. And with everything else she did, she still managed to make almost all of our clothes. They weren't fancy, but they did wear well.

That Christmas I bought Dad a handful of fishing lures from the Five to a Dollar store, and wrapped them individually in matchboxes so he'd have plenty of gifts to open from me. Choosing something for Mother was much harder. When Dad and I asked, she thought carefully then hinted modestly for some tea towels, face cloths or a new dishpan.

On our last trip to town before Christmas, we were driving up Main Street when Mother suddenly exclaimed in surprise: "Would you just look at that!" She pointed excitedly as Dad drove past Eaton's.

"That big red dress is gone," she said in di**elief. "It's actually gone."

"Well . . . I'll be!" Dad chuckled. "By golly, it is!"

"Who'd be fool enough to buy such a frivolous dress?" Mother questioned, shaking her head. I quickly stole a glance at Dad. His blue eyes were twinkling as he nudged me with his elbow. Mother craned her neck for another glimpse out the rear window as we rode on up the street. "It's gone . . ." she whispered. I was almost certain that I detected a trace of yearning in her voice.

I'll never forget that Christmas morning. I watched as Mother peeled the tissue paper off a large box that read "Eaton's Finest Enamel Dishpan" on its lid.

"Oh Frank," she praised, "just what I wanted!" Dad was sitting in his rocker, a huge grin on his face.

"Only a fool wouldn't give a priceless wife like mine exactly what she wants for Christmas," he laughed. "Go ahead, open it up and make sure there are no chips." Dad winked at me, confirming his secret, and my heart filled with more love for my father than I thought it could hold!

Mother opened the box to find a big white enamel dishpan - overflowing with crimson satin that spilled out across her lap. With trembling hands she touched the elegant material of Big Red.

"Oh my goodness!" she managed to utter, her eyes filled with tears. "Oh Frank . . ." Her face was as bright as the star that twinkled on our tree in the corner of the **all room. "You shouldn't have . . ." came her faint attempt at scolding.

"Oh now, never mind that!" Dad said. "Let's see if it fits," he laughed, helping her slip the marvellous dress over her shoulders. As the shimmering red satin fell around her, it gracefully hid the patched and faded floral housedress underneath.

I watched, my mouth agape, captivated by a radiance in my parents I had never noticed before. As they waltzed around the room, Big Red swirled its magic deep into my heart.

"You look beautiful," my dad whispered to my mom - and she surely did!

经典英语文章阅读篇三

你才是我的幸福

She was dancing. My crippled grandmother was dancing. I stood in the living room doorway absolutely stunned. I glanced at the kitchen table and sure enough-right under a **all, framed drawing on the wall-was a freshly baked peach pie.

I heard her sing when I opened the door but did not want to interrupt the beautiful song by yelling I had arrived, so I just tiptoed to the living room. I looked at how her still-lean body bent beautifully, her arms greeting the sunlight that was pouring through the window. And her legs... Those legs that had stiffly walked, aided with a cane, insensible shoes as long as I could remember. Now she was wearing beautiful dancing shoes and her legs obeyed her perfectly. No limping. No stiffness. Just beautiful, fluid motion. She was the pet of the dancing world. And then she’d had her accident and it was all over. I had read that in an old newspaper clipping.

She turned around in a slow pirouette and saw me standing in the doorway. Her song ended, and her beautiful movements with it, so abruptly that it felt like being shaken awake from a beautiful dream. The sudden silence rang in my ears. Grandma looked so much like a kid caught with her hand in a cookie jar that I couldn’t help myself, and a slightly nervous laughter escaped. Grandma sighed and turned towards the kitchen. I followed her, not believing my eyes. She was walking with no difficulties in her beautiful shoes. We sat down by the table and cut ourselves big pieces of her delicious peach pie.

"So...” I blurted, “How did your leg heal?"

"To tell you the truth—my legs have been well all my life," she said.

"But I don’t understand!" I said, "Your dancing career... I mean... You pretended all these years?

"Very much so," Grandmother closed her eyes and savored the peach pie, "And for a very good reason."

"What reason?"

"Your grandfather."

"You mean he told you not to dance?"

"No, this was my choice. I am sure I would have lost him if I had continued dancing. I weighed fame and love against each other and love won."

She thought for a while and then continued. “We were talking about engagement when your grandfather had to go to war. It was the most horrible day of my life when he left. I was so afraid of losing him, the only way I could stay sane was to dance. I put all my energy and time into practicing—and I became very good. Critics praised me, the public loved me, but all I could feel was the ache in my heart, not knowing whether the love of my life would ever return. Then I went home and read and re-read his letters until I fell asleep. He always ended his letters with ‘You are my Joy. I love you with my life’ and after that he wrote his name. And then one day a letter came. There were only three sentences: ‘I have lost my leg. I am no longer a whole man and now give you back your freedom. It is best you forget about me.’”

"I made my decision there and then. I took my leave, and traveled away from the city. When I returned I had bought myself a cane and wrapped my leg tightly with bandages. I told everyone I had been in a car crash and that my leg would never completely heal again. My dancing days were over. No one suspected the story—I had learned to limp convincingly before I returned home. And I made sure the first person to hear of my accident was a reporter I knew well. Then I traveled to the hospital. They had pushed your grandfather outside in his wheelchair. There was a cane on the ground by his wheelchair. I took a deep breath, leaned on my cane and limped to him. "

By now I had forgotten about the pie and listened to grandma, me**erized. “What happened then?” I hurried her when she took her time eating some pie.

"I told him he was not the only one who had lost a leg, even if mine was still attached to me. I showed him newspaper clippings of my accident. ‘So if you think I’m going to let you feel sorry for yourself for the rest of your life, think again. There is a whole life waiting for us out there! I don’t intend to be sorry for myself. But I have enough on my plate as it is, so you’d better snap out of it too. And I am not going to carry you-you are going to walk yourself.’" Grandma giggled, a surprisingly girlish sound coming from an old lady with white hair.

"I limped a few steps toward him and showed him what I’d taken out of my pocket. ‘Now show me you are still a man,’ I said, ‘I won’t ask again.’ He bent to take his cane from the ground and struggled out of that wheelchair. I could see he had not done it before, because he almost fell on his face, having only one leg. But I was not going to help. And so he managed it on his own and walked to me and never sat in a wheelchair again in his life."

"What did you show him?" I had to know. Grandma looked at me and grinned. "Two engagement rings, of course. I had bought them the day after he left for the war and I was not going to waste them on any other man."

I looked at the drawing on the kitchen wall, sketched by my grandfather’s hand so many years before. The picture became distorted as tears filled my eyes. “You are my Joy. I love you with my life.” I murmured quietly. The young woman in the drawing sat on her park bench and with twinkling eyes **iled broadly at me, an engagement ring carefully drawn on her finger.

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