高考复习三轮冲刺微专题人物故事 无答案 24页

人物故事 A The Harry Potter author JK Rowling has shared some rejection letters publishers sent to her alter ego Robert Galbraith, in an effort to comfort aspiring authors.‎ Rowling posted the letters on Twitter after a request from a fan. They related to The Cuckoo’s Calling, her first novel as Galbraith. But Rowling also saw Harry Potter turned down several times before the boy wizard became one of the greatest phenomena in children’s literature, with sales of more than 400m copies worldwide.‎ Asked how she kept motivated, she tweeted: “I had nothing to lose and sometimes that makes you brave enough to try.” When she pitched under the name Galbraith without revealing her true identity, she faced many more snubs. Since then, Galbraith has published three successful novels but the first was rejected by several publishers, and Rowling was even advised to take a writing course.‎ Rowling erased the signatures when she posted the letters online, saying her motive was “inspiration not revenge”. She did not reveal the full text of the most brutal brush-off, which came by email from one of the publishers who had also rejected Harry Potter.‎ Rowling said she could not share the Potter rejections because they “are now in a box in my attic” before offering the Galbraith letters. The kindest and most detailed rejection came from Constable & Robinson, who – despite the advice about a writing course – included helpful tips on how to pitch to a publisher (“as on book jackets – don’t give away the ending!”). The publisher added: “I regret that we have reluctantly come to the conclusion that we could not publish it without commercial success.” The short note from publishers Crème de la Crime said the firm had become part of another publishing group and was not accepting new submissions.‎ When The Cuckoo’s Calling eventually found a publisher in 2019, it was achieving respectable sales before the secret of its authorship broke, and it then shot to the top of the bestseller lists.‎ Joanne Harris, author of a string of hit novels, joined the Twitter discussion to say she had so many rejections for her 2019 book Chocolat, later adapted as a Hollywood movie, that she had piled them up and “made a sculpture”.‎ Rowling, Harris and their literary disciples are in excellent company. Eimear McBride, the 2019 Bailey’s prizewinner for her first novel A Girl is a Half-formed Thing, accumulated a drawer full of rejection letters before a chance conversation led to her book being published by Galley Beggar, a tiny independent publisher in Norwich. ‎ ‎59. Which of the following is the name of a prize for fiction? ‎ A. Robert Galbraith. B. Chocolat. C. Bailey’s D. Crème de la Crime ‎ ‎60. JK Rowling’s novels were rejected for the following reasons EXCEPT that _________. ‎ A. the writer needs to learn some techniques about how to write B. books are meant to be published for bringing in money C. the publisher for the time being denies new submissions D. those that can be adapted for movies are worth considering ‎ ‎61. Why did JK Rowling post some rejection letters on the Twitter? ‎ A. To inform readers that hardships make a man stronger.‎ B. To inspire ambitious writers never to give up halfway.‎ C. To take her revenge on those publishers who ever rejected her.‎ D. To carry out an academic discussion with other fellow writers.‎ B I stared down at the $14.86 left in my hand after paying the weekly rent for the small house we’d found. We had only a small amount of food in our kitchen. I wondered how I could have gotten my eight-year-old daughter and me to the point where we were so close to homelessness. I made one or two wrong assumptions about being able to find new employment. It seemed that I was on a ladder sliding downward, with no end in sight.‎ Staying here were single moms trying to escape from bad marriages, alcoholics and people who just seemed to have a hard time fitting in. I fell normal, so what was I doing here? More importantly, was there something these people could teach me about surviving until I could climb out of my difficult situation? I swallowed my pride and began to knock on doors. Whether they were single parents or travelers, I was told how to donate blood to earn a bit of money and how one family worked at a local temp(临时雇员) agency that paid daily. Doing everything they recommended allowed me to keep going.‎ The whole time I continued to go to interview after interview in search of a regular job. I landed a job as a receptionist. I saw all the business partners as they came and went. Whenever I had an opportunity to make any kind of a positive impression, whether offering to return calls, making reservations, recommending a solution to a caller’s problem or anything else, I did so. The effort paid off. My temp-to-perm job was lengthened for another two-week period. I was moved from the reception desk to the second assistant for one of the partners. This gave me the opportunity to see even more of what went on in the firm. I offered the executive assistant help in completing her work so that we could both go home at a more reasonable time.‎ Even though I knew it was rare for this firm to move anyone from a temporary position to a permanent one, I decided I’d do my job as if it were already mine. I organized the file. I set up a follow-up calendar(日程表). I made sure whatever was needed for meeting was there beforehand. I figured that if I could keep working there for over four months, I might have a chance.‎ I had been working there for eight weeks when the executive assistant became ill and was in hospital. Since she was expected back shortly, I offered to step in and do her tasks as well as my own task. Sadly, the executive assistant never did fully recover from her sickness. After working for six of the hardest months of my life, I was permanently offered her position. It provided benefits, stability and eventually the opportunity to move into a better and closer apartment. I worked for that firm for almost five years. I eventually took over the operation of a department and was ‎ promoted to the position of manager. Who could have imagined that?‎ My time as a nearly homeless person had given me new compassion(同情) for people in trouble. Instead of simply evicting(驱逐) everyone who couldn’t pay, my apartment developed an awarding-winning program which allowed them to work off their rents by providing needed services, such as cleaning, gardening or painting, somewhere in our apartment buildings.‎ I went on to have other corporate jobs, and I now live in my house. Whenever I see a person who needs help today, I wonder what his story is. And I try to offer him at least a warm cup of coffee or something to eat. Who knows, some day it might be me again. I’d like to think that someone would help me if they could. ‎ ‎65. According to Paragraph 1, what happened to the author?‎ A. She was out of work. B. She didn’t have any food to eat.‎ C. She hurt herself falling off a ladder. D. She couldn’t afford to pay the rent.‎ ‎66. The author knocked on other people’s doors in order to _____________.‎ A. borrow some money B. seek some advice C． ask for some basic necessities of life D. complain about the difficulties she was going through ‎67. The author was promoted to second assistant _____________‎ A. because of her well designed calendar B. because of her skill in dealing with people C. because she was self-motivated in the company D. because she offered the executive assistant great help ‎68. The “six of the hardest months of my life ” probably refers to the time when ___________‎ A. the author had alcohol problems.‎ B. the author had an increased workload.‎ C. the author was driven away from her apartment.‎ D. the author’s daughter was suffering from an illness.‎ ‎69. If people cannot pay the rent in the author’s apartment buildings, they _____________‎ A. will be forced to move out. B. will have to pay a heavy fine.‎ C. can do some work instead D. can get an allowance ‎70. What can we learn from the author’s experience?‎ A. He who laughs last laughs best. B. Wasting time is robbing oneself.‎ C. Gratitude is the sign of noble souls. D. The first elements of success is determination.‎ C Several overseas trips with the family have taught us that they can be rewarding, but you always have to be careful of pickpockets.‎ On a lovely visit to Paris an encounter with a pickpocket gave the would-be thief a little more than he bargained for!‎ While walking down the famous Champs Elysee, I was astonished to feel someone unzip my handbag and remove my purse. I turned to glimpse a young man turning ‎ away and pretending to be absorbed in the mouth-watering contents on display in a bakery window.‎ Being only a teenager at the time, I had no idea what to do. So I tapped the young man in question on the shoulder and said.‎ ‎“Excuse me can you please give me back my purse?”‎ Of course the pickpocket had no idea what I was saying (and didn’t want to know) and proceeded to shrug his shoulders and basically say (in French) “I don’t speak English”?‎ Meanwhile my Mother (a Scotswoman with a bad temper), came to see why I had stopped walking and what was going on. When I informed her of the situation she lost control and started yelling at the thief who still stood there making gestures in French while a crazy Scotswoman harangued(指责) him. At this stage we were starting to attract onlookers, and when my Mother started hitting the young man with her handbag the would-be thief decided it was time to get away.‎ Luckily, amid all the disorder the thief lost his control of my purse, and as he made a break-for-it, my purse dropped to the ground! I quickly snatched it up and for the rest of vacation we walked around with our handbags clutched against our chests!‎ ‎59. This passage is a story about_________________.‎ A. several overseas trips B. Champs Elysee C. a lovely visit to Paris D. pickpockets ‎60. The underlined phrase ‘bargained for’ in Paragraph 2 most probably means ______.‎ A. exchanged for B. wished for C. asked for D. answered for ‎ ‎61. The author discovered the pickpocket because__________.‎ A. his handbag was specially made to stop pickpocketing B. the author was old enough and experienced there C. the pickpocket was too inexperienced to steal his purse D. his purse was very heavy so that he felt it was removed ‎62. Which of the following can be inferred from the passage? ‎ A. The pickpocket didn’t know English and had no idea what I was saying.‎ B. His Mother tried to beat the thief so that he ran away immediately.‎ C. It was the bad tempered mother that caused the thief to lose control of the purse.‎ D. The author was old enough to deal with the case independently at the time.‎ D This is my origin story: when I was a teenager I wrote terrible poetry. Like really bad. Worse than yours, I bet. A lot of it about how every little thing reminds me that we’re all going to die one day. I wrote collections and collections of these poems, thinking one day I would have my moment. I named one collection, ironically, The Eternal Optimist.‎ In 2019, I found an advert for the International Poetry Competition. I was 16 years old and ready for my poetry to be released on the world. Not only was it a competition with a cash prize, but it was poetry, which I wrote, and international. This was my ticket to becoming world-famous. I submitted a poem called Trail of ‎ Thought. If you ever wrote bad poetry as a teenager, you’ll have written something like it. In the poem, I went for a walk and noticed small poignant (辛酸的)things in nature, and each one reminded me that we were all going to die one day.‎ I filled out the form, printed off the poem and sent it off, fingers crossed. I waited to hear back, I carried on writing, I probably finished another collection. Then I got a letter from the International Society of Poets. I opened the envelope carefully, just in case a prize-winning cheque fell out. I hadn’t won. But, they liked my poem enough to include it in their anthology (诗选).‎ Awaken to a Drea,. I closed my eyes, I wanted to scream with happiness. I was going to be a published poet.‎ All I had to do in order to be published was accept the terms and pay £45 (plus £5 p & p) for an anthology. If I didn’t buy a copy of the anthology, my poem wouldn’t be included. I had to convince my mum, who thought my writing a meaningless pastime, to part with £50. She even asked the question: “Why do you have to pay to be in this book?” Nevertheless, she wrote a cheque for £50 and I returned it with my letter of agreement.‎ I was 16 and about to be a published poet. This was what it had all been about. This is what it had all been leading to. The months waiting for the anthology were a torture. I hit some sort of writer’s block. I couldn’t write anything. It was almost as if, now I was published, it mattered more what I committed to page and I didn’t want to write anything down unless it was good enough to go into an anthology like Awaken to a Dream.‎ The book arrived through the post. Here it was. The first thing I had ever been published in a book called Awaken to a Dream, featuring a blistering take on the mundanity (世俗) of mortality by yours truly. I opened the package to find a book, containing my work. The first thing that struck me about the book was that it was bigger than A4. And it was thick. And on each page was a poem, next to another poem, next to another. The type was small and the paper thin enough to trace with. With three or four poems per page and more than 700 pages, I had a sinking realization. This was a scam, an illegal trick for making money.‎ If each poem had cost the author £ 45, they were sitting on a fortune. I felt ashamed. Everyone who had submitted something to the International Poetry Competition had fallen for the same hustle (忙碌) as me. I couldn’t bring myself to show my mum. And she never asked to see it.‎ Perhaps she thought if the price of me learning a lesson was £50 we didn’t really have, then so be it.‎ But that stayed with me, that moment of realization. Because I determined to keep writing and ensure that my precious words always found a home worthy of them. Or at least that’s how, more than 20 years later, I justify falling for a scam. Because your first time being published should be special, and if I don’t convince myself that there was a reason for my first poem being in a vanity (无价值) book, then what good was it in the first place? And, strangely, someone is selling this book on Amazon at the moment. I wonder how many other writers who went on to do more stuff are in there.‎ ‎65. What does the underlined sentence in paragraph 1 mean？‎ A. The author was sure he was going to die like everyone else. B. The author was optimistic about the publication of his poetry.‎ C. The author was worried the tragedies in the poetry would happen to him.‎ D. The author was considering writing positive poems instead of terrible ones.‎ ‎66. When the author received the letter from the organizing committee, he felt _.‎ A. upset B. calm C. excited D. surprised ‎67. While waiting for the anthology, the author .‎ A. reflected on what he had written about B. set a higher criterion for his future works C. felt too miserable to write anything more D. wondered what future was in store for him ‎68. The author realized the anthology was a trick from the fact that .‎ A. the poems were of poor quality B. the organizers just made a quick profit C. he was charged higher than others D. the content was carelessly edited ‎69. The passage is mainly about .‎ A. why the author fell for the trick of a poetry competition B. what it took for a poetry enthusiast to be a published writer C. how a terrible teenage poem taught the author a lifelong lesson D. whether poetry enthusiasts could guard against tricks targeted at them ‎70. How did the author feel about the scam at the end of the story?‎ A. He laughs best who laughs last.‎ B. A fall into the pit, a gain in your wit. ‎ C. Nothing is impossible to a willing heart.‎ D. Follow your own course, and let people talk.‎ E ‎ A car dealership in my hometown of Albuquerque was selling six to eight new cars a day. I was also told that 72 percent of this dealership’s first-time visitors returned for a second visit. ‎ I was curious. How does a car dealership get 72 percent of its first-time visitors to return? And how can they sell six to eight cars a day in a declining car market? ‎ When I walked into Saturn of Albuquerque that Friday, the staff there didn’t know me from Adam; yet they shared with me their pricing policy, the profit margin on every model, and staff income. They even opened their training manuals for my review and invited me back on Saturday if I wanted more information. ‎ On Sunday, the day after my second visit to the Saturn store, my wife, Jane, and I were walking as we frequently do. On this particular June morning, Jane gently slipped her hand in mine and said tenderly, “I don’t know if you remember, but today’s my fifth anniversary of being cancer-free.” I was surprised, partially because I was embarrassed that I had forgotten and, partially because.... Well, I didn’t know what to do with Jane’s information. ‎ The next day, Monday, Jane went off to work teaching school. Still not knowing what to do to mark this special occasion, I did the most impetuous thing I’ve ever done in my life: I bought a new Saturn. I didn’t pick the color or the model, but I paid cash ‎ and told them I’d bring Jane in on Wednesday at 4:30 to make those two decisions. I told them why I was buying the car. ‎ Tuesday morning, it dawned on me that Jane always wanted a white car. I called our sales consultant at Saturn, and I asked him if he had anything white in the store. He said he had one left but he couldn’t guarantee it’d still be available on Wednesday at 4:30 because they were selling so fast. I said I’d take my chances and asked him to put it in the showroom. ‎ Wednesday came. Unexpectedly, someone in our family was admitted to the hospital. So, it wasn’t until 9:30 Saturday morning when we finally made our way to the Saturn store. Jane had never been in a Saturn store. When we went through the front door, the Lord took control of her feet and her mouth. She saw that little white Saturn coupe all the way across the showroom floor. She quickly passed a multi-colored sea of automobiles, sat in the little white Saturn and said, “Oh, what a pretty little car. Can I have a new car?” I said, “No. Not until our son graduates from college.” She said, “I’m sick and tired of driving that old Dodge, I want a new car.” I said, “I promise, just three more semesters and he’ll be out.” ‎ Next, Jane walked around to the front of the car. As she looked it over, she let out the most blood-curdling, shrill scream I’d ever heard in 29 years of marriage. ‎ Now, before I tell you why Jane screamed, let me tell you what our sales consultant had done. He had ordered a large, professionally engraved sign (white letters on blue). The sign stood alone on the hood of the little white Saturn coupe. It said “Congratulations, Jane. This car is yours. Five years cancer-free. Let’s celebrate life. From Team Saturn” Every employee at Saturn of Albuquerque had signed the back of that sign. ‎ Jane saw it, screamed, collapsed in my arms and cried loudly. I didn’t know what to do. I was in tears. I took out my invoice (发票) from the previous Monday, pointing to the white coupe, said, “No, honey, this car isn’t yours. I bought you this one.” I tapped the invoice with my index finger. Jane said, “No, I want this one right here.” ‎ While this conversation was going on, there was no one in the store. Our sales consultant had arranged it so that we could share the moment alone. Even so, it’s impossible to have a lot of privacy when so many people are standing outside the showroom windows looking in. When Jane screamed and collapsed in my arms, I saw everybody outside applaud and begin to cry. ‎ ‎65. What did the writer visit the Saturn of Albuquerque for that Friday?‎ A. He wanted to collect some raw materials for his story.‎ B. He was asked to write a report about that car store.‎ C. He was told the car store was launching a price reduction activity.‎ D. He simply wanted to see why the car store enjoyed so much popularity.‎ ‎66. Why did the writer buy a new Saturn?‎ A. Because his car was so old that he didn’t want to drive it any longer.‎ B. Because Jane wanted a new car for her fifth anniversary of being cancer-free.‎ C. Because he wanted to mark his wife’s fifth anniversary of being cancer-free.‎ D. Because he thought the car could be helpful to his wife’s recovery from cancer.‎ ‎67. When did the writer decide upon the white car?‎ A. On the next Tuesday. B. On the first Friday. ‎ C. On the second Wednesday D. On the first Saturday.‎ ‎68. How did Jane feel when she saw the sign on the car?‎ A. Surprised and thrilled. B. Angry but satisfied.‎ C. Shocked and frightened. D. Skeptical but overjoyed.‎ ‎69. Which of the following belongs to the most wonderful part of this story?‎ A. Paying cash for a new Saturn. B. Picking up the new car in the store.‎ C. The couple’s conversation on the street. D. The writer’s first visit to the car store.‎ ‎70. The purpose of the writer writing this story is ________.‎ A. to introduce a new type of car B. to tell readers of his lovely wife C. to sing high praise for a car store D. to show his deep love for his wife F My mother never talked about her Chinese childhood when my siblings and I were growing up, and we never asked. From her we learned that family history was not of interest, and in our ignorance we turned our backs on what had gone before. We lived on a plateau in a land of canyons, separated from our past by chasms(断裂) of time, language, and culture. My mother was a native guide who could have led us along the sheer cliff walls and dangerous riverbeds of the old days, but she never did.‎ ‎ For her, the past was divided into parts, each occupying a separate memory bank, some of which she tried never to visit. For me, her past was just a hopeless jumble(混乱), like a creaky, junk-ridden attic to which I was not allowed entry. China, America, and somewhere, vaguely, in between, Taiwan: I could not comprehend how the three came together to form the person who had formed me. ‎ ‎ My mother never told stories; she only mentioned facts and casual references to her past. She described the most thrilling events as casually as she would trip to a local supermarket. “When we left China, I had to wear gold bars sewn into my belt. They were so heavy.” She might as well have been talking about a bag of groceries for all the emotions she displayed. When she happened to mention the fact that her grandmother had bound feet, I accepted the news with equal equanimity(泰然). Her delivery was so matter-of-fact I assumed everyone’s grandmother wore shoes that measured a mere three-and-a-half inches.‎ ‎ Now I begin to understand. To reflect on the past means to reexperience it. A onetime high-school quarterback remembers the touchdown that won the state finals in vivid detail. Doting(溺爱的) parents tirelessly and tiresomely recount the same dull anecdotes from their children’s lives. But the process works in the negative as well, and the terror that wakes my mother up at night gasping and pressing hand to heart, is very real. She did not want to share it with me. Perhaps she wished to protect me. Her secrecy was a gift, I in turn, did not want to receive.‎ ‎ My physical features marked me as a stranger in my own country, but I knew nothing of the land of my ancestors. I could not even converse(交谈) with the various relatives and old family friends who crowded around the dinner table at ‎ holiday times. Their jokes and discussions swirled meaninglessly about my head. Among aliens, I myself was an alien. I grew up, self-contained, and removed from the world around me, unable to explain anything to anyone because nothing had ever been explained to me. At the same time I longed to—a bird beating its head against glass, wanting to be let inside. If I could somehow capture my mother’s essence(实质), the glass would disappear. The path forward would be clear.‎ ‎ I was an adult and a writer in search of a subject when I finally asked my mother to talk about her life. That first conversation, she spoke practically in monosyllables(单调). “Yes” and “No” were the only response I could induce out of her. If a question demanded a more detailed answer, she responded by saying, “I don’t know.” I was the customer at an information store; she was its surly clerk. Eventually I ended up inventing my own time frame for the worthless trickle of memories she reluctantly let drip forth. She did not care if the dates were accurate or not. The conversation took on a surrealistic tinge(色彩). She would mention that she had moved to a certain city in 1943. “Oh, no.” I would respond. “It had to be 1945.” She would shrug. Together, we were reinventing her past, not exploring as I had wished. The process left me so frustrated that when she got up to go to sleep, I badgered(缠着) her all the way to her bedroom. She lay on one side while I hovered(蜷缩) in a chair over her.‎ ‎“Tell me more.” I begged. “What do you remember?”‎ ‎“Ai-you” she was finally annoyed, her eyes blinking open. “I just don’t want to remember.”‎ I think my mother was sorry she could not help me more. She gave me something before I left. At the time I doubted that it would do me any good. It was a list of names of some of the eager voices who used to call asking for her in Chinese when I was a young girl. Much later, I would realize it was a map to my mother’s heart. At the time, I simply had no other direction to follow. I began returning the phone calls from my mother’s past.‎ ‎65. The primary purpose of the passage is to _______.‎ A. celebrate a discovery B. explain a difficult undertaking C. criticize an attitude D. imagine a person’s history ‎66. The mother gave the impression that “family history was not of interest” probably because _______‎ A. she thought that history entirely commonplace B. she had been too young to understand political events C. she had lost touch with anyone who shared that history D. much of it was painful for her to recollect.‎ ‎67. The author’s “equanimity” arose from the _______.‎ A. mother’s manner of speaking B. mother’s ambiguous language C. author’s assumptions about earlier generation D. author’s knowledge of long-gone era ‎68. “Now I begin to understand.” conveys the author’s new appreciation of _______. ‎ A. how ambitious her mother’s expectations were for her children B. how the mother could be genuinely indifferent to the past C. the mother’s motivation for being reluctant to respond D. the family’s reason for leaving China ‎69. About which of the following does the reference to “map” help make “the list of names”?‎ A. It included people the mother had cared most about when she was growing up.‎ B. It was the guide that would allow the author to come to some understanding of her mother’s essence.‎ C. It included information that her mother had not previously revealed to anyone.‎ D. It contained the information that the author had sought but that her mother did not know.‎ ‎70. From the end of the passage, the author is returning the phone calls by _______.‎ A. answering questions put by her mother’s friends B. contacting people her mother knew in the past C. greeting strangers as warmly as family members D. contacting relatives involved in similar research G My heart sank when the man at the immigration counter gestured to the back room. I was born and raised in America, and this was Miami, where I live, but they weren’t quite ready to let me in yet.‎ ‎　　“Please wait in here, Ms Abujaber,” the immigration officer said. My husband, with his very American last name, accompanied me. He was getting used to this. The same thing had happened recently in Canada when I’d flown to Montreal to speak at a book event. That time they held me for 45 minutes. Today we were returning from a literary festival in Jamaica, and I was startled that I was being sent “in back” once again.‎ ‎　　The officer behind the counter called me up and said, “Miss, your name looks like the name of someone who’s on our wanted list. We’re going to have to check you out with Washington.”‎ ‎　　“How long will it take?”‎ ‎　　“Hard to say ... a few minutes,” he said. “We’ll call you when we’re ready for you.” After an hour, Washington still hadn’t decided anything about me. “Isn’t this computerized?”‎ ‎　　I asked at the counter. “Can’t you just look me up?”‎ ‎　　Just a few more minutes, they assured me.‎ ‎　　After an hour and a half, I pulled my cell phone out to call the friends I was supposed to meet that evening. An officer rushed over. “No phones!” he said. “For all we know you could be calling a terrorist cell and giving them information.”‎ ‎　　“I’m just a university professor,” I said. My voice came out in a squeak.‎ ‎　　“Of course you are. And we take people like you out of here in leg irons every day.”‎ ‎　　I put my phone away.‎ ‎　　My husband and I were getting hungry and tired. Whole families had been ‎ brought into the waiting room, and the place was packed with excitable children, exhausted parents, even a flight attendant.‎ ‎　　I wanted to scream, to jump on a chair and shout: “I’m an American citizen; a novelist; I probably teach English literature to your children.” Or would that all be counted against me?‎ ‎　　After two hours in detention, I was approached by one of the officers. “You’re free to go,” he said. No explanation or apologies. For a moment, neither of us moved, we were still in shock.‎ ‎　　Then we leaped to our feet.‎ ‎　　“Oh, one more thing .” He handed me a tattered photocopy with an address on it. “If you weren’t happy with your treatment, you can write to this agency.”‎ ‎　　“Will they respond?” I asked.‎ ‎　　“I don’t know --- I don’t know of anyone who’s ever written to them before.” Then he added, “By the way, this will probably keep happening each time you travel internationally.”‎ ‎　　“What can I do to keep it from happening again?”‎ ‎　　He smiled the empty smile we’d seen all day. “Absolutely nothing.”‎ ‎　　After telling several friends about our ordeal, probably the most f requent advice I’ve heard in response is to change my name. Twenty years ago, my own graduate school writing professor advised me to write under a pen name so that publishers wouldn’t stick me in what he called “the ethnic ghetto” --- a separate, secondary shelf in the bookstore. But a name is an integral part of anyone’s personal and professional identity -just like the town you’re born in and the place where you’re raised.‎ ‎　　Like my father, I’ll keep the name, but my airport experience has given me a whole new perspective on what diversity and tolerance are supposed to mean. I had no idea that being an American would ever be this hard.‎ ‎64. The author was held at the airport because __________.‎ A. she and her husband returned from Jamaica. B. her name was similar to a terroris’’s.‎ C. she had been held in Montreal. D. she had spoken at a book event.‎ ‎65. We learn from the passage that the author would __________ to prevent similar experience from happening again.‎ A. write to the agency B. change her name ‎ C. avoid traveling abroad D. do nothing ‎66. Her experiences indicate that there still exists __________ in the US.‎ A. hatred B. discrimination C. tolerance D. diversity ‎67. The author sounds __________ in the last paragraph.‎ A. impatient B. bitter C. worried D. ironic H Our house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance of Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to patients at the clinic. ‎ One summer evening as I was preparing supper, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see a truly awful looking man. He is hardly taller than my eight-year-old son. The most shocking thing is his face-twisted from swelling, red and raw. Yet his voice was pleasant as he told me that he came for a treatment this morning from the eastern shore, and there’s no bus till morning. He’d been hunting for a room since noon but with no success. “I guess it’s my face... I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says with a few more treatments...” For a moment I hesitated, but his next words convinced me: “I could sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in the morning.”‎ I told him we would find him a bed, but to rest on the porch. When I had finished the dishes, I talked with him. It didn’t take a long time to see that this old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. He told me he fished for a living to support his daughter, her five children, and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled (残疾的)from a back injury. He didn’t tell it by way of complaint. He was grateful that no pain accompanied his disease, which was apparently a form of skin cancer. He thanked God for giving him the strength to keep going. At bedtime, we put a camp bed in the children’s room for him. When I got up in the morning, the bed linens (床单) were neatly folded and the little man was out on the porch. ‎ Before he left for his bus, he asked if he could come back and stay the next time he had a treatment. I told him he was welcome to come again. On his next trip he arrived a little after seven in the morning. As a gift, he brought a big fish and the largest oysters（牡蛎）I had ever seen. I knew his bus left at 4:00 a. m. and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us. In the years he came to stay overnight with us, there was never a time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden. ‎ When I received these little gifts, I often thought of a comment our next-door neighbor made after he left that first morning. “Did you keep that awful looking man last night? I turned him away! You can lose roomers by putting up such people!” Maybe we did lose roomers once or twice. But oh! If only they could have known him, perhaps their illnesses would have been easier to bear. I know our family will always be grateful to have known him; from him we learned what it was to accept the bad without complaint and the good with gratitude to God. ‎ Recently I was visiting a friend, who has a greenhouse, as she showed me her flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all, a golden chrysanthemum (菊花), bursting with blooms. But to my great surprise, it was growing in an old, rusty (生锈的) bucket. “I ran short of pots,” she explained, and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn’t mind starting out in this old bucket. It’s just for a little while, till I can put it out in the garden." ‎ She must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining just such a scene in heaven. “Here’s an especially beautiful one,” God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old fisherman. “He won’t mind starting in this small body.”‎ All this happened long ago—and now, in God’s garden, how tall this lovely soul must stand. ‎ ‎66. Which of the following is true about the man mentioned in the story?‎ A. He is a tall but terrible looking man.‎ B. He failed to find a room because no room was available.‎ C. He lives a tough life for he has a big family to support.‎ D. He suffered a lot of pain from skin cancer but he never complained.‎ ‎67. The reason why the author agreed to let the man spend the night in her house at last is that_______‎ A. his voice is pleasant.‎ B. he came from the eastern shore.‎ C. she didn’t want to lose roomers.‎ D. he promised not to cause much inconvenience.‎ ‎68. What does the author want to show by saying the underlined words in Paragraph 5?‎ A. The man’s skill of curing diseases. B. The man’s great influence on others.‎ C. Her determination to know him. D. Patients’ regret for not being with him.‎ ‎69. The author’s family will be grateful to have known the man because he __________.‎ A. stayed only overnight with them ‎ B. often brought precious gifts to them ‎ C. paid them a lot of money for his staying D. taught them how to accept the bad without complaint ‎70. Which of the following is the best title of the story?‎ A. The Beautiful Flower in the Old Bucket B. The Broken Heart in a Tiny Body C. The Wonderful Scene in Heaven D. The Strange Neighbor in My Life I Sir Nicholas Winton, rescuer of children, died on July 1st, 2019, aged 106.‎ When the letters and the honor came knocking on the door of his house in Maidenhead, and the filmmakers came calling, Nicholas Winton always protested that he was no hero. Heroes faced danger; he never had. They put their lives on the line; he had just worked at home in Hampstead, after a day being a stockbroker in the City. They avoided bullets and the secret police; he wrote letters, made telephone calls, and composed lists.‎ The fact that he had rescued 669 children from Czechoslovakia just as the Nazis invaded did not, in his mind, constitute heroism. He hadn’t gone out there in 1938 with any burning urge to do good; just for a holiday, in fact. Nor had he gone looking for children to rescue. Instead they and their parents had come to him, as soon as word got round that he might be able to help them leave Prague and get to the West. From 6.00 a.m. the knocks would come at the door of his room in the Europa Hotel, and he would open it to find some shivering, starving, desperate figure.‎ When faced with a problem, his instinct was to solve it. So he made lists of the ‎ children, took their photographs, got them Home Office entry permits, found them foster families and organised their departure on trains, via the Netherlands, to Liverpool Street. After just three weeks in Prague, he went back to Britain and carried on the work from there.‎ The British Committee for Refugees from Czechoslovakia gave him almost no help, so he took sole charge himself. The Home Office was slow with entry permits, so he copied some illegally. In search of foster-parents for the children he put their photos in Picture Post; in the hope of farther havens for them he wrote to governors and senators in America and even to President Roosevelt, to no avail. He could have rescued at least 2,000 more, he said later, if America had been willing to take any.‎ A hero might have got involved in the stress and distress of individual cases. He avoided that by treating them like a commercial transaction: like the world he knew, in fact. A market was created, takers were sought and any likely bidder would do. Siblings were separated, if necessary. Jewish children — they were almost all Jewish — were often placed with Gentile families. Mr Winton did not care and he just had to get the children out alive and fast. When they arrived, exhausted, at Liverpool Street he seldom greeted them himself, preferring to stay calmly at a distance. Only one event traumatised him: the disappearance of 250 children on the last transport of September 1st 1939, as war was declared. But this awful thing too he stored at the back of his mind, realising that he had done all he could and his part was over. The scrapbook of lists, photographs and begging letters went up to the attic; he said nothing about it, and moved on.‎ He liked it that way. The silent background suited him very well. For 50 years he sat on the Czech story, not supposing anyone would want to know, until in 1988 the scrapbook came to light and, with it, a blaze of publicity, culminating in an evening on Esther Rantzen’s “That’s Life” TV show when the whole audience suddenly stood up round him, applauding him, and every one was a child he had saved. It was “absolutely awful”, he thought; and wept with long-suppressed joy.‎ He was still no hero, though, in his own book. He had had no desire to improve the world: indeed, not even much idea which job he was best suited for. At his father’s suggestion he had tried banking first, having left Stowe with nothing much to show for it. After the war he dabbled in business, but it didn’t take. In later years he worked for a mental-health charity and helped to set up homes for the elderly; and wondered why saving the Czech children was deemed more heroic than those things. He had simply done what needed doing at that time, in that place. Surely any decent person would have done the same?‎ ‎65. Why did Nicholas Winton refuse to regard himself as a hero? ‎ A. His behavior didn’t matter in the rescue. ‎ B. He didn’t undergo risk in the rescue.‎ C. He didn’t want to make himself public. ‎ D. His travel to Prague was simply for a holiday. ‎ ‎66. What made Winton decide to help rescue the children? ‎ A. His strong desire to do good. ‎ B. His determination to be a hero. ‎ C. His hatred towards Nazis. ‎ D. His sympathy for children’s fate ‎67. What can we learn about Winton from Paragraph 5? ‎ A. He experienced a tough time during the rescue. ‎ B. He didn’t get any aid from the British government. ‎ C. He intended to send all children to America but failed. ‎ D. He transported children to Britain with official entry permits. ‎ ‎68. Why did Mr Winton show little enthusiasm after children arrived in Britain? ‎ A. He didn’t want the rescue to have great impact on his future life. ‎ B. He merely wanted the children to be adopted as soon as possible. ‎ C. He felt sorry for the disappearance of 250 children on the last transport. ‎ D. He was satisfied with the effort that he had made to rescue the children. ‎ ‎69. What can we infer from the last two paragraphs? ‎ A. Winton uncovered the hidden history himself after 50 years. ‎ B. Winton was reluctant to see those saved by him on the TV show. ‎ C. Winton thought what he had done for the children nothing special. ‎ D. Winton didn’t achieve great success in his career after the war. ‎ ‎70. What is the best title for the passage?‎ A. A job well done B. A risky rescue ‎ C. A group of lucky children D. A living legend J During my early twenties, to make my parents stop feeling angry, and simply to escape, I decided to live in my birthplace for a period of time, something I’d sworn I would never do. My parents were thrilled. They prayed that I’d come back triumphantly with a picture-perfect bridegroom. That was the furthest thing from my mind as I packed my faded jeans, tank tops, boots, and a photo of my freckle-faced then-boyfriend who was of Scottish descent.‎ The moment I landed in Seoul, I was aware of how much I felt like a misfit. All my life I had tried to blend into the dominant culture and couldn’t. And finally, when I was in a place where everyone looked like me, I still stood out. I took it for granted that I’d feel a sense of freedom. I thought I’d blend into the landscape. This was not the case. People stared at me with curious eyes. I became conscious of my American-girl swaggering body movements and inappropriate dress.‎ Collecting my courage, I traveled to the demilitarized zone on my own. I touched the high barbed-wire fence that stretched across the belly of the peninsula (半岛), dividing Korea in half. I visited thousand-year-old temples and magnificent palace gates that had survived modernization and centuries of battle. I met with distant cousins who welcomed me with outstretched arms into their homes and related heroic tales about my mother and Halmoni (Grandmother) during the war. How Halmoni had led her young children out of north to the United Nation-backed south. How my mother, at the age of thirteen, saved the life of her baby sister.‎ I listened with such an overwhelming thirst that when I returned to the States a year and a half later, I began to ask my parents and Halmoni (who had immigrated to the ‎ States some time after we did) all about the past. The past was no longer a time gone by, a dead weight. I now saw that it held ancient treasures. And the more I dug and discovered, the more I felt myself being steered toward a future I had never imagined for myself. I began to write. I didn’t even know I could write. My family helped me knit stories into a book using Halmoni’s voice. As her powerful words moved through me I was able to reflect and meditate on the ridiculous life I had fashioned for myself. I could feel my sense of self rising. This sparked a newfound awareness and excitement. I became a spokeswoman on Korean culture, traveling to various college campuses across the country. “Be proud. Embrace your heritage.” I said to young Korean American students wearing extra-large, trendy sportswear. But the whole time I was lecturing, I had very little understanding of what that self-concept meant. I was merely talking the talk. I hadn’t yet fully embraced my own identity.‎ ‎46. Why did the author leave America for her birthplace?‎ A. Because she broke up with her boyfriend and wanted to be alone.‎ B. Because she decided to be separated from her parents for a while.‎ C. Because she was forced by her parents to get married in Korea.‎ D. Because she longed for the travel in her birthplace on her own.‎ ‎47. According to the passage, the author suggests that her original expectations about visiting Korea were ________.‎ A. unrealistic and innocent B. misguided and dangerous ‎ C. ambitious and ridiculous D. sensible and practical ‎48. What was the author’s attitude toward the ancient monuments she visited in Korea?‎ A. She was astonished at their size.‎ B. She was surprised at their beauty.‎ C. She admired their capacity to endure.‎ D. She was curious about their original functions.‎ ‎49. According to the passage, which of the following statements is TRUE?‎ A. The author wrote her family’s stories in first person with the help of her grandmother.‎ B. The author was aware of her own national identity and knew what she was actually doing.‎ C. The author felt extremely free when in Korea because it was the place where she looked like others.‎ D. The author’s attitude toward her family’s earlier experiences changed from indifference to fascination.‎ ‎50. Which statement most closely parallels the author’s conclusion about knowledge of the past?‎ A. It is a treasure that should be guarded. ‎ B. It is often most valued during early adulthood.‎ C. It can enhance appreciation of ancient cultures.‎ D. It can help individuals attain deeper self-concept.‎ K You went to the butcher’s for meat, the pharmacy for aspirin, and the grocery store for food. But when I spent the summer with my Grandmother in Warwick, N.Y., she sent me down to the general store with a list. How could I hope to find anything on the packed, messy shelves around me?‎ I walked up to the counter. Behind it was a lady like no one I’d ever seen. Fake-jewel-encrusted glasses teetered(摇摇欲坠) on the tip of her nose, gray hair was piled on her head.‎ ‎“Excuse me,” I said. She looked up.‎ ‎“You’re that Clements kid,” she said. “I’m Miss Bee. Come closer and let me get a look at you.” She pushed her glasses up her nose. “I want to be able to describe you to the sheriff(警长) if something goes missing from the store.”‎ ‎“I’m not a thief!” I was shocked. I was seven years old, too young to be a thief!‎ ‎“From what I can see you’re not much of anything. But I can tell you’ve got potential.” She went back to reading her newspaper.‎ ‎“I need to get these.” I said, holding up my list.‎ ‎“So? Go get them.” Miss Bee pointed to a sign on the screen door. “There’s no one here except you and me and I’m not your servant, so I suggest you get yourself a basket from that pile over there and start filling. If you’re lucky you’ll be home by sundown.”‎ Sundown was five hours away. I wasn’t sure I would make it.‎ I scanned the nearest shelf for the first item on my list: pork and beans. It took me three wall-to-wall searches before I found a can nestled between boxes of cereal and bread. Next up was toilet paper, found under the daily newspaper. Band-Aids(创口贴)—where had I seen them? Oh, ye next to the face cream. The store was a puzzle, but it held some surprises too. I found a new Superman comic tucked(折叠) behind the peanut butter.‎ I visited Miss Bee a couple of times a week that summer. Sometimes she short-changed me. Other times she overcharged. Or sold me an old newspaper instead of one that was current. Going to the store was more like going into battle. I left my Grandma’s house armed with my list—memorized to the letter—and marched into Miss Bee’s like General Patton marching into North Africa.‎ ‎“That can of beans is only twenty-nine cents!” I corrected her one afternoon. I had watched the numbers change on the cash register closely, and Miss Bee had added 35 cents. She didn’t seem embarrassed that I had caught her overcharging. She just looked at me over her glasses and fixed the price.‎ Not that she ever let me declare victory. All summer long she found ways to trip me up. No sooner had I learned how to pronounce bicarbonate of soda(小苏打) and memorized its location on the shelf than Miss Bee rearranged the shelves and made me hunt for it all over again. By summer’s end the shopping trip that had once taken me an hour was done in 15 minutes. The morning I was to return to Brooklyn, I stopped in to get a packet of gum.‎ ‎“All right, Miss Potential,” she said. “What did you learn this summer?” That you’re a meany! I pressed my lips together. To my amazement, Miss Bee laughed. “I know what you think of me,” she said. “Well, here’s a news flash: I don’t care! Each of us is ‎ put on this earth for a reason. I believe my job is to teach every child I meet ten life lessons to help them. Think what you will, Miss Potential, but when you get older you’ll be glad our paths crossed!” Glad I met Miss Bee? Ha! The idea was absurd.‎ Until one day my daughter came to me with homework troubles.‎ ‎“It’s too hard,” she said. “Could you finish my math problems for me?”‎ ‎“If I do it for you how will you ever learn to do it yourself?” I said. Suddenly, I was back at that general store where I had learned the hard way to tally up(结算) my bill along with the cashier. Had I ever been overcharged since?‎ As my daughter went back to her homework, I wondered: Had Miss Bee really taught me something all those years ago? I took out some scrap paper(便条纸) and started writing.‎ ‎________________________________________________‎ ‎65. Why did the writer spend a long time doing her first shopping in the general store? ‎ A. She was too young to remember all the items on the list.‎ B. Miss Bee thought she was a thief and did not treat her kindly.‎ C. Her grandmother asked her to buy too many things.‎ D. The store was in disorder and she was not familiar with the shop.‎ ‎66. What can we infer from the writer’s comparing herself to “General Patton”?‎ A. She was well prepared.‎ B. She was very aggressive.‎ C. Going shopping in the store was a challenge to her.‎ D. Going shopping was so fun that it was like playing a war game.‎ ‎67. In the eyes of the kid, Miss Bee was _________.‎ A. kind B. serious C. straightforward D. mean ‎68. The underlined phrase “trip me up” means ________.‎ A. made me walk a long way B. cause me to make a mistake C. make me lost my way D. offer me a guide in direction ‎69. What does Miss Bee mean by saying “when you get older you'll be glad our paths crossed”? ______‎ A. The writer would benefit from the experience there. ‎ B. Life was full of surprises.‎ C. They could really share something together. ‎ D. She was really a teacher in disguise.‎ ‎70. At the end of the story, the writer might write down the following on the paper EXCEPT ________.‎ A. Don’t be so quick to judge other people ‎ B. The best teacher isn’t only in school C. Stick to your dream whatever happens ‎ D. Don’t expect to be helped when you are in trouble L My parents have certainly had their troubles, and as their child I’ll never know how they made it to 38 years of marriage. They loved each other, but they didn’t seem to ‎ like each other very much. Dad was too fond of his beer, and he talked down to Mom a lot. When she tried to stand up to him, a fight would unavoidably follow. ‎ It was my dad’s disease that began to change things. The year 2019 was the beginning of a remarkable transformation for my family. My father, Jim Dineen, the always healthy, weightlifting, never-missed-a –day-of-work kind of dad, discovered he had kidney disease.‎ The decision to go ahead with a transplant for my father was a long and tough one, mostly because he had liver damage too. One physician’s assistant told him, “According to your file, you’re supposed to be dead.” And for a while, doctors mistakenly thought that he would need not just a kidney transplant, but a liver transplant too. Dad’s future hung in midpoint.‎ When the donor testing process finally began in the spring of 2019, numerous people, including me, my uncle Tom, and my mom, came back as matches of varying degrees. But Mom was the one who insisted on going further. She decided to donate a kidney to my father. She said she wasn’t scared, and it was the right thing to do. We all stepped back in amazement.‎ At last a date was chosen—November 11, 2019. All of a sudden, the only thing that seemed to matter to Dad was telling the world what a wonderful thing Mom was doing for him. A month before the surgery, he sent her birthday flowers with a note that read, “I love you and I love your kidney! Thank you!”‎ Financially, the disease was upsetting to them. So my sister and I were humbled and surprised when, shortly before his surgery day, Dad handed us a diamond jewelry that we were to give to Mom after the operation. He’d accumulated his spare dollars to buy it.‎ At the hospital on the day of the transplant, all our relatives and friends gathered in the waiting room and became involved in a mean euchre (尤克牌游戏) tournament. My family has always handled things with a lot of laughter, and even though we were all tense, everyone was taking bets on how long this “change of conduct” would last in my parents.‎ We’d informed Dad that if he chose to act like a real pain on any particular day after the operation, he wasn’t allowed to blame it on PMS just because he’d now have a female kidney!‎ The surgeries went well, and not long afterward, my sister and I were allowed to go in to visit. Dad was in a great deal of pain but, again, all he could talk about was Mom. Was she okay? How was she feeling? Then the nurses let us do something unconventional. As they were wheeling Mom out of the recovery room, they rolled her into a separate position to visit Dad. It was strange to see both our parents hooked up to IVs and machines and trying to talk to each other through tears. The nurses allowed us to present the diamond jewelry to Mom so that Dad could watch her open it. Everybody was crying, even the nurses.‎ As I stood with digital camera in hand, I tried to keep the presence of mind to document the moment. My dad was having a hard time fighting back emotion, and suddenly my parents unexpectedly reached out to hold each other’s hands.‎ In my nearly 35 years of existence, I’d never seen my parents do that, and I was ‎ spellbound. I snapped a picture and later rushed home to make sure I’d captured that enormous, life-defining moment. After so many years of disagreement, it was apparent to me that they finally understood how much each loved the other.‎ ‎67. What does the underlined word “it” in Para.4 refer to?‎ A. Mom’s courage of ding the donor testing. ‎ B. Mom’s scare of losing Dad.‎ C. Mom’s decision to stay with Dad ‎ D. Mom’s decision to donate a kidney to Dad ‎68. Which of the following is NOT the way Dad expressed his love to Mom?‎ A. He sent her birthday flowers with a note.‎ B. He bought diamond jewelry to her.‎ C. He asked the nurses to visit Mom soon after the operation.‎ D. He was eager to know Mom’s condition soon after the operation ‎69. What’s in the writer’s photo?‎ A. Everybody was crying, even the nurses.‎ B. His parents were holding each other’s hands.‎ C. Dad watched Mom opening the gift.‎ D. His parents were trying to talk to each other.‎ ‎70. What’s the title for the passage?‎ A. The Photo of Hands B. Mom’s decision ‎ C. Dad’s disease D. The Gift of Life ‎ M My mother believed you could be anything you wanted to be in America. America was where all my mother’s hopes lay. She had come here in 1949 after losing everything in China. But she never looked back with regret. There were so many ways for things to get better. ‎ ‎“Of course you can be a prodigy, too,” my mother told me when I was nine. “You can be best at anything.” We didn’t immediately pick the right kind of prodigy. At first my mother thought I could be a Chinese Shirley Temple. We’d watch Shirley’s old movies on TV as though they were training films. My mother would poke my arm and say, “Ni kan” — You watch. And I would see Shirley tapping her feet, or singing a sailor song, or pursing her lips into a very round O while saying, “Oh my goodness.”‎ Soon after my mother got this idea about Shirley Temple, she took me to a beauty training school and put me in the hands of a student who could barely hold the scissors without shaking. Instead of getting big fat curls, I emerged with an uneven mass of crinkly black fuzz. My mother dragged me off to the bathroom and tried to wet down my hair. ‎ ‎“You look like Negro Chinese,” she lamented, as if I had done this on purpose.‎ In fact, in the beginning, I was just as excited as my mother, maybe even more so. I pictured this prodigy part of me as many different images, trying each one on for size. I was a dainty ballerina girl standing by the curtains, waiting to hear the right music that would send me floating on my tiptoes. I was Cinderella stepping from her pumpkin carriage with sparkly cartoon music filling the air.‎ In all of my imaginings, I was filled with a sense that I would soon become perfect. My mother and father would adore me. I would be beyond reproach. I would never feel the need to sulk for anything. ‎ But sometimes the prodigy in me became impatient. “If you don’t hurry up and get me out of here, I’m disappearing for good,” it warned. “And then you’ll always be nothing.” ‎ Every night after dinner, my mother and I would sit at the Formica kitchen table. She would present new tests, taking her examples from stories of amazing children she had read and a dozen other magazines she kept in a pile in our bathroom. My mother got these magazines from people whose houses she cleaned. She would look through them all, searching for stories about remarkable children. ‎ The first night she brought out a story about a three-year-old boy who knew the capitals of all the states and even most of the European countries. A teacher was quoted as saying the little boy could also pronounce the names of the foreign cities correctly.‎ ‎“What’s the capital of Finland?” my mother asked me, looking at the magazine story.‎ All I knew was the capital of California, because Sacramento was the name of the street we lived on in Chinatown. “Nairobi!” I guessed, saying the most foreign word I could think of. She checked to see if that was possibly one way to pronounce “Helsinki” before showing me the answer. ‎ The tests got harder—multiplying numbers in my head, finding the queen of hearts in a deck of cards, trying to stand on my head without using my hands, predicting the daily temperatures in Los Angeles, New York, and London. ‎ And after seeing my mother’s disappointed face once again, something inside of me began to die. I hated the tests, the raised hopes and failed expectations. Before going to bed that night, I looked in the mirror and when I saw only my face staring back—and that it would always be this ordinary face—I began to cry. Such a sad, ugly girl! I made high pitched noises like a crazed animal, trying to scratch out the face in the mirror. ‎ And then I saw what seemed to be the prodigy side of me—because I had never seen that face before. I looked at my reflection, blinking so I could see more clearly. The girl staring back at me was angry, powerful. This girl and I were the same. I had new thoughts, willful thoughts, or rather thoughts filled with lots of won’ts. I won’t let her change me, I promised myself. I won’t be what I’m not. ‎ ‎65. The underlined word “prodigy” in Paragraph 2 is closest in meaning to ________.‎ A. talent B. professor C. leader D. superstar ‎66. Why did the mother and the girl watch Shirley’s old movies on TV?‎ A. Because the mother was a fan of Shirley Temple.‎ B. Because Shirley Temple’s hairstyle was very popular among children.‎ C. Because the girl resembled Shirley Temple in appearance.‎ D. Because the mother wanted her daughter to be a Chinese Shirley Temple.‎ ‎67. How did the girl feel about the tests she did every night?‎ A. She felt confident and finished it smoothly.‎ B. She got through the tests painfully.‎ C. She failed the tests and began to lose confidence.‎ D. She eventually sadly found herself ordinary and ugly.‎ ‎68. What does the underlined sentence in Paragraph 13 mean?‎ A. The mother was not sure about the answer and wanted to confirm it.‎ B. The mother expected her daughter to know the right answer.‎ C. The answers were more than one and the mother checked them.‎ D. The mother was disappointed and gave up her daughter.‎ ‎69. What might happen after the last paragraph?‎ A. The girl might try her best to become famous and successful. ‎ B. The girl might do what she really likes.‎ C. The girl might do whatever her mother asks and becomes a different image.‎ D. The mother might change her attitude and listen to her daughter’s words.‎ ‎70. Which of the following can be the best title of the text?‎ A. Being Myself or Not B. Educational Failure ‎ C. Difficult American Childhood D. Mother’s Experience N obs quickly became bored with college. He liked being at Reed, just not taking the required classes. In fact he was surprised when he found out that, for all of its hippie aura, there were strict course requirements. When Wozniak came to visit, Jobs waved his schedule at him and complained, “They are making me take all these courses.” Woz replied, “Yes, that's what they do in college.” Jobs refused to go to the classes he was assigned and instead went to the ones he wanted, such as a dance class where he could enjoy both the creativity and the chance to meet girls. “I would never have refused to take the courses you were supposed to, that's a difference in our personality，” Wozniak marveled.‎ Jobs also began to feel guilty, he later said, about spending so much of his parents' money on an education that did not seem worthwhile. “All of my workingclass parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition，” he recounted in a famous commencement address at Stanford. “I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out okay.”‎ He didn't actually want to leave Reed; he just wanted to quit paying tuition and taking classes that didn't interest him. Remarkably, Reed tolerated that. “He had a very inquiring mind that was enormously attractive，” said the dean of students, Jack Dudman. “He refused to accept automatically received truths, and he wanted to examine everything himself.” Dudman allowed Jobs to audit classes and stay with friends in the dorms even after he stopped paying tuition.‎ ‎“The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting，” he said. Among them was a calligraphy class that appealed to him after he saw posters on ‎ campus that were beautifully drawn. “I learned about serif and sans serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.”‎ It was yet another example of Jobs consciously positioning himself at the intersection of the arts and technology. In all of his products, technology would be married to great design, elegance, human touches, and even romance. He would be in the fore of pushing friendly graphical user interfaces. The calligraphy course would become iconic in that regard. “If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, it's likely that no personal computer would have them.”‎ In the meantime Jobs decked out a bohemian existence on the fringes of Reed. He went barefoot most of the time, wearing sandals when it snowed. Elizabeth Holmes made meals for him, trying to keep up with his obsessive diets. He returned soda bottles for spare change, continued his treks to the free Sunday dinners at the Hare Krishna temple, and wore a down jacket in the heatless garage apartment he rented for $20 a month. When he needed money, he found work at the psychology department lab maintaining the electronic equipment that was used for animal behaviour experiments. Occasionally Chrisann Brennan would come to visit. Their relationship sputtered along erratically. But mostly he tended to the stirrings of his own soul and personal quest for enlightenment.‎ ‎“I came of age at a magical time，” he reflected later. “Our consciousness was raised by Zen, and also by LSD.” Even later in life he would credit psychedelic drugs for making him more enlightened. “Taking LSD was a profound experience, one of the most important things in my life. LSD shows you that there's another side to the coin, and you can't remember it when it wears off, but you know it. It reinforced my sense of what was important—creating great things instead of making money, putting things back into the stream of history and of human consciousness as much as I could.”‎ ‎65. Jobs and Wozniak differed in ________．‎ A. approach to freedom B. attitude to requirements C. appetite for knowledge D. affection for college life ‎66. One factor in Job's decision to leave college is that ________．‎ A. his family was in absolute poverty B. he wanted to be independent of his parents C. the college couldn't prepare him for his set goal D. he wouldn't have his parents' money wasted ‎67. From Jack Dudman's statement, we can see that Jobs was ________．‎ A. rather difficult to get along with B. very serious about existing beliefs C. quite good at solving problems D. too stubborn to change his mind ‎68. The underlined word “audit” in paragraph 3 means “________”．‎ A. give successfully B. miss occasionally C. attend informally D. conduct irregularly ‎69. Jobs worked on typefaces while suffering from a hard life ________．‎ A. to bring something great into existence B. to prove his value to the whole world C. to make himself wealthy for a better life D. to show college was unimportant to him ‎70. Which of the following can be the proper title for the passage?‎ A. Stay Out B. Work Out C. Hold Out D. Drop Out