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What I have Lived 我为何而生Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life the longing love, the search knowledge, and unbearable pity the suffering of mankind. These passions, like great winds, have blown me hither and thither, in a wayward course, over a deep ocean of anguish, reaching to the very verge of despair.我的一生被三种简单却又无比强烈的所控制:对爱的渴望,对知识的探索和对人类苦难难以抑制的屿这些像狂风,把我恣情吹向四方,掠过苦痛的大海,迫使我濒临绝望的边缘I have sought love, first, because it brings ecstasy---ecstasy so great that I would often have sacrificed all the rest of my life a few hours this joy. I have sought it, next, because it relieves loneliness---that terrible loneliness in which one shivering consciousness looks over the rim of the world into the cold unfathomable lifeless abyss. I have sought it, finally, because in the union of love I have seen, in a mystic miniature, the prefiguring vision of the heaven that saints and poets have imagined. This is what I sought, and though it might seem too good human life, this is what---at last---I have found.我寻求爱,首先因为它使我心为之着迷,这种难以名状的美妙迷醉使我愿意用所有的余生去换取哪怕几个小时这样的幸福我寻求爱,还因为它能缓解我心理上的孤独中,我感觉心灵的战栗,仿如站在世界的边缘而面前是冰冷,无底的死亡深渊我寻求爱,因为在我所目睹的结合中,我仿佛看到了圣贤与诗人们所向往的天堂之景这就是我所寻找的,虽然对人的一生而言似乎有些遥不可及,但至少是我用尽一生所领悟到的With equal passion I have sought knowledge. I have wished to understand the hearts of men. I have wished to know why the stars shine. And I have tried to apprehend the Pythagorean power by which number holds sway above the flux. A little of this, but not much, I have achieved.我用同样的去寻求知识我希望能理解人类的心灵,希望能够知道群星闪烁的缘由我试图领悟毕达哥拉斯所景仰的;数即万物;的思想我已经悟出了其中的一点点道理,尽管并不是很多Love and knowledge, so far as they were possible, led upward toward the heavens. But always it brought me back to earth. Echoes of cries of pain reverberate in my heart. Children in famine, victims tortured by oppressors, helpless old people a hated burden to their sons, and the whole world of loneliness, poverty, and pain make a mockery of what human life should be. I long to alleviate the evil, but I cannot, and I too suffer.爱和知识,用它们的力量把人引向天堂但是同情却总把人又拽回到尘世中来痛苦的呼喊声回荡在我的内心饥饿的孩子,受压迫的难民,贫穷和痛苦的世界,都是对人类所憧憬的美好生活的无情嘲弄我渴望能够减少邪恶,但是我无能为力,我也难逃其折磨This has been my life. I have found it worth living, and would gladly live it again if the chance were offered me.这就是我的一生我已经找到它的价值而且如果有机会,我很愿意能再活它一次 39他最后一次送给我的这张贺卡如今仍保存在我的记事牌上它提醒我父亲是多么地不同寻常,以及这些年来对我是多么地重要,我知道我有这样一位父亲,他以慷慨的胸怀、朴素的理解和一生中向他的亲人表达祝福的能力,来保持着爱的传统My ever ValentineThe traditional holidays in our house when I was a child were spent timing elaborate meals around football games. My father tried to make pleasant chitchat and eat as much as he could during halftime. At Christmas he found time to have a cup or two of holiday cheer and do his holly-shaped bow tie. But he didn't truly shine until Valentine's Day.  I don't know whether it was because work at the office slowed during February or because the football season was over. But Valentine's Day was the time my father chose to show his love the special people in his life. Over the years I fondly thought of him as my " Valentine Man."My first recollection of the magic he could bring to Valentine's Day came when I was six. several days I had been cutting out valentines my classmates. Each of us was to decorate a " mailbox " and put it on our desk others to give us cards. That box and its contents ushered in a succession of bittersweet memories of my entrance into a world of popularity contests marked by the number of cards received, the teasing about boyfriendsgirlfriends and the tender care I gave to the card from the cutest boy in class.That morning at the breakfast table I found a card and a gift-wrapped package at my chair. The card was signed " Love, Dad" , and the gift was a ring with a small piece of red glass to represent my birthstone, a ruby. There is little difference between red glass and rubies to a child of six, and I remember wearing that ring with a pride that all the cards in the world could not surpass.As I grew older, the gifts gave way to heart-shaped boxes filled with my favorite chocolates and always included a special card signed " Love, Dad" .In those years my " thank-yous" became more of a perfunctory response.The cards seemed less important, and I took granted the valentine that would always be there. Long past the days of having a " mailbox" on my desk, I had placed my hopes and dreams in receiving cards and gifts from " significant others" , and " Love, Dad" just didn't seem quite enough.If my father knew then that he had been replaced, he never let it show. If he sensed any disappointment over valentines that didn't arrive me, he just tried that much harder to create a positive atmosphere, giving me an extra hug and doing what he could to make my day a little brighter.My mailbox eventually had a rural address, and the job of hand-delivering candy and cards was relegated to the U.S.Postal Service. Never in ten years was my father's package late--nor was it on the Valentine's Day eight years ago when I reached into the mailbox to find a card addressed to me in my mother's handwriting.It was the kind of card that comes in an inexpensive assortment box sold by a child going door-to-door to try to earn money a school project. It was the kind of card that you used to get from a grandmother or an aging aunt or, in this case, a dying father. It was the kind of card that put a lump in your throat and tears in your eyes because you knew the person no longer was able to go out and buy a real valentine. It was a card that signaled this would be the last you receive from him.The card had a photograph of tulips on the outside, and on the inside my mother had printed " Happy Valentine's Day" . Beneath it, scrawled in barely legible handwriting, was " Love, Dad" .His final card remains on my bulletin board today. It's a reminder of how special fathers can be and how important it had been to me over the years to know that I had a father who continued a tradition of love with a generosity of spirit, simple acts of understanding and an ability to express happiness over the people in his life.Those things never die, nor does the memory of a man who never stopped being my valentine. 019788Pecks bad boy: 捣蛋鬼 -01-7 00::31 来源: 养个乖巧的小孩是父母的福气,若摊上个“捣蛋鬼”,说不定就是上天的赐予了没听说过这句话?——“只有坏小孩才能闯天涯”当然,“坏小孩”不是真的坏,只不过,养他要更费些心思,因为他太爱闯祸、太能耍小聪明捉弄人了 英语中,这样的捣蛋“坏小孩”可用“Peck's bad boy”来形容Peck是个人名,指的是19世纪美国小说家George W. Peck(乔治·W·佩克),Bad boy则是他笔下一个名叫Hennery的淘气鬼当年,Peck的系列小说“Peck's bad boy”发表后,一度成为人们茶余饭后阅读的最爱书中的“bad boy”令一代美国人忍俊不禁,他爱闯祸的本性,爱捉弄人的特质(尤爱捉弄他的父亲)极大丰富了那个时代的精神生活 191年,“Bad boy”形象 首次被搬上荧幕,由天才童星Jackie Coogan(贾克·柯根)饰演,这部电影被列为早期无声电影的经典之作也正是由于“Peck's bad boy”所取得的巨大成功,小说家George W. Peck(乔治·W·佩克)成了备受公众欢迎的演说家,随后还成为威斯康星州第一位连任两届的州长 现在,Peck's bad boy也常用来形容那些“行动、说话不经大脑思考的冒失鬼”,他们的言行举止常常令别人处于尴尬、难堪的境地 Peck 小孩 小说 成为To Fanny Brawne, March 18 Sweetest Fanny, You fear, sometimes, I do not love you so much as you wish? My dear Girl I love you ever and ever and without reserve. The more I have known you the more have I lov'd. In every way - even my jealousies have been agonies of Love, in the hottest fit I ever had I would have died you. I have vex'd you too much. But Love! Can I help it? You are always new. The last of your kisses was ever the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest. When you pass'd my window home yesterday, I was fill'd with as much admiration as if I had then seen you the first time. You uttered a half complaint once that I only lov'd your Beauty. Have I nothing else then to love in you but that? Do not I see a heart naturally furnish'd with wings imprison itself with me? No ill prospect has been able to turn your thoughts a moment from me. This perhaps should be as much a subject of sorrow as joy - but I will not talk of that. Even if you did not love me I could not help an entire devotion to you how much more deeply then must I feel you knowing you love me. My Mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small it. I never felt my Mind repose upon anything with complete and undistracted enjoyment - upon no person but you. When you are in the room my thoughts never fly out of window you always concentrate my whole senses. The anxiety shown about our Love in your last note is an immense pleasure to me; however you must not suffer such speculations to molest you any more not will I any more believe you can have the least pique against me. Brown is gone out -- but here is Mrs Wylie -- when she is gone I shall be awake you. -- Remembrances to your Mother. Your affectionate, J. Keats 186在一个阳光明媚的早晨,临桌而坐,整整四个小时不受打扰,有足够数量的雪白稿纸,还有一“挤压式”妙笔——那才叫真正的幸福The Joys of WritingThe tunate people in the world—the only reallytunate people in the world, in my mind, are those whose work is also their pleasure. The class is not a large one, not nearly so large as it is often represented to be; and authors are perhaps one of the most important elements in its composition.They enjoy in this respect at least a real harmony of life. To my mind, to be able to make your work your pleasure is the one class distinction in the world worth striving ; and I do not wonder that others are inclined to envy those happy human beings who find their livelihood in the gay effusions of their fancy, to whom every hour of labour is an hour of enjoyment, to whom repose—however necessary—is a tiresome interlude. And even a holiday is almost deprivation. Whether a man writes well or ill, has much to say or little, if he cares aboutwriting at all, he will appreciate the pleasures of composition. To sit at one's table on a sunny morning, with four clear hours of uninterruptible security, plenty of nice white paper, and a Squeezer pen—that is true happiness. The complete absorption of the mind upon an agreeable occupation—what more is there than that to desire? What does it matter what happens outside?The House of Commons may do what it likes, and so may the House of Lords. The heathen may rage furiously in every part of the globe. The bottom may be knocked clean out of the American market. Consols may fall and suffragettes may rise. Nevermind, four hours, at any rate, we will withdraw ourselves from a common, ill-governed, and disorderly world, and with the key of fancy unlock that cupboard where all the good things of the infinite are put away.by Winston Churchill 7

爱情口语:那些真挚的爱情语句 -- :5:30 来源: Love is the mother of love. 情生情,爱生爱 Love is the reward of love. 爱是对爱的报答 Love asks faith, and faith firmness. 爱情要求信任,信任要求坚定 Love me little, love me long. 爱应细水长流 Love me, love my dog. 爱屋及乌 Love is a symphony in which the sweetest notes are kisses. 爱是一首交响曲,其中最美妙的音符是吻 Love does not consist in gazing at each other but looking outward together in the same direction. 相爱不表现在互相含情脉脉地对视,而表现在朝着同一个方向向外看 Beauty is the eye of the beholder. 请人眼里出西施 The course of true love never did run smooth .真诚的爱情之路永不会平坦的 At the touch of love, everyone become a poet.. 一经爱的触摸,人人能当诗人 True love is giving, not taking. 真挚的爱是给予,而不是索取 爱情 语句 那些 口语

当她出现在公众面前,她的衣着不会像是在尖叫“看看我!”, 而像是在说“这就是我……其实并不比你好”Hepburn, the Actress My mother’s acting career was a second choice, a default choice. But the rules were the same as in ballet hard wok, discipline and professionalism. “Less is more” was at the core of my mother’s basic “look” philosophy. Style is a word we often use, a multitude of purposes. In the case of my mother it was the extension of an inner beauty reinced by a life of discipline, respect the other, and hope in humanity. She didn’t go with the trends, didn’t reinvent herself every season. She loved fashion but kept it as a tool to compliment her look. When she appeared, her clothes didn’t scream out, “Look at me!” but, “This is me … no better than you.” And she truly believed in that. She didn’t see herself as anything special or unusual, which is why she worked so hard and was always pleasant and professional. Her style was only an extension of who she was, the person we all admired, because down deep we knew that what we saw was not just clever packaging but an honest and 0 percent genuine human being. 81

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