The family said the ______ lay in a family plot with his niece's ashes. A: grave B: grief C: slave D: wave
The family said the ______ lay in a family plot with his niece's ashes. A: grave B: grief C: slave D: wave
The house was______ to ashes in the fire. A: reduced B: produced C: slid D: stuffed
The house was______ to ashes in the fire. A: reduced B: produced C: slid D: stuffed
Most of the houses in the village were burnt to _____ during the war. A: an ash B: the ash C: ash D: ashes
Most of the houses in the village were burnt to _____ during the war. A: an ash B: the ash C: ash D: ashes
Who fight the flood caused by Gonggong by blocking with reed ashes? A: A.Nvwa B: B.Yi C: C.Gun D: D.Yu
Who fight the flood caused by Gonggong by blocking with reed ashes? A: A.Nvwa B: B.Yi C: C.Gun D: D.Yu
将电脑游戏《星际争霸》中刀锋女王的一句话My stare alone would reduce you to ashes翻译为“在我眼里，你就是渣！”传递出刀锋女王的唯我独尊的心态与霸气的情感
将电脑游戏《星际争霸》中刀锋女王的一句话My stare alone would reduce you to ashes翻译为“在我眼里，你就是渣！”传递出刀锋女王的唯我独尊的心态与霸气的情感
《了不起的盖茨比》中，尼克和盖茨比居住的地区新贵聚集，与黛西的家、传统有钱人社区隔海湾相望。请问尼克他们的居住区叫什么？? New Jersey|East Egg|West Egg|The Valley of Ashes
《了不起的盖茨比》中，尼克和盖茨比居住的地区新贵聚集，与黛西的家、传统有钱人社区隔海湾相望。请问尼克他们的居住区叫什么？? New Jersey|East Egg|West Egg|The Valley of Ashes
Which of the following is not the prediction of Stephen Hawking? （ ） A: There are other life forms in the universe. Once our civilization is discovered, aliens may invade the earth. B: The earth will explode into ashes within 100 years. C: Humans will choose to emigrate to other planets in the future. D: The popularity of artificial intelligence (A E: will eventually threaten humanity itself.
Which of the following is not the prediction of Stephen Hawking? （ ） A: There are other life forms in the universe. Once our civilization is discovered, aliens may invade the earth. B: The earth will explode into ashes within 100 years. C: Humans will choose to emigrate to other planets in the future. D: The popularity of artificial intelligence (A E: will eventually threaten humanity itself.
1. _________ out of the taxi he was seized by two men. A. In his stepping B. To step C. When his stepping D. On his Stepping 2. The stranger was _________ my old friend. A. no other but B. no one than C. none other than D. not other than 3. The farmer uses wood to build a house __________ to store grains. A. with which B. where C. in which D. which 4. Two hours ___________ the limit of this test. A. is B. are C. has been D. will be 5. Carl thinks you had better clear the ashes away first, _________? A. hadn’t you B. does he C. do
1. _________ out of the taxi he was seized by two men. A. In his stepping B. To step C. When his stepping D. On his Stepping 2. The stranger was _________ my old friend. A. no other but B. no one than C. none other than D. not other than 3. The farmer uses wood to build a house __________ to store grains. A. with which B. where C. in which D. which 4. Two hours ___________ the limit of this test. A. is B. are C. has been D. will be 5. Carl thinks you had better clear the ashes away first, _________? A. hadn’t you B. does he C. do
What nature is telling you? 1 Let’s sit down here, all of us, on the open prairie, where we can’t see a highway or a fence, free from the debris of the city. Let’s have no blankets to sit on, but let our bodies converge with the earth, the surrounding trees and shrubs. Let’s have the vegetation for a mattress, experiencing its texture, its sharpness and its softness. Let us become like stones, plants, and trees. Let us be animals, think and feel like animals. 2 This is my plea: Listen to the air. You can hear it, feel it, smell it, taste it. We feel it between us, as a presence presiding over the day. It is a good way to start thinking about nature and talking about it. To go further, we must rather talk to it, talk to the rivers, to the lakes, to the winds as to our relatives. 3 You have impaired our ability to experience nature in the good way, as part of it. Even here we are conscious that somewhere beyond the marsh and its cranes, somewhere out in those hills there are radar towers and highway overpasses. This land is so beautiful and strange that now some of you want to make it into a national park. You have not only contaminated the earth, the rocks, the minerals, all of which you call “dead” but which are very much alive; you have even changed the animals, which are part of us, changed them into vulgar zoological mutations, so no one can recognize them. 4 There is power in an antelope, so you let it graze within your fences. But what power do you see in a goat or sheep, prey animals with no defenses, creatures that hold still while you slaughter them? There was great power in a wolf, even in a fox. You have inverted nature and turned these noble animals into miniature lap dogs. Nature is bound by your ropes and whips and is obedient to your commands. You can’t do much with a cat, so you fix it, alter it, declaw it, and even cut its vocal cords so that you can experiment on it in a laboratory without being disturbed by its cries. 5 You have also made all types of wild birds into chickens – creatures with wings so impaired that they cannot fly. There are farms where you breed chickens for breast meat. Those birds are kept in low, repressive cages, forced to be hunched over all the time, which makes the breast muscles very big. One loud noise and the chickens go mad, killing themselves by flying against the walls of their cages. Having to spend all their lives stooped over makes an unnatural, crazy, no-good bird. It also makes unnatural, detached, no-good human beings. 6 That’s where you’ve fooled yourselves. You have not only altered, declawed, and deformed your winged and four-legged cousins; you have done it concurrently to yourselves. You inject Botox, or use plastic surgery, synthetic make-up and countless drugs. You have filtered and remolded humans into executives sitting in boardrooms, into office workers, into time-clock punchers. Your homes are filled with families disconnected from one another but tied to one great entity, television. 7 “Watch the ashes, don’t smoke, you’ll stain the curtains. Watch the goldfish bowl. Don’t lean your head against the wallpaper; your hair may be greasy. Don’t spill liquor on that table: You’ll peel off its delicate finish. You should have wiped your boots; the floor was just cleaned. Don’t, don’t, don’t ...” That is absurd! We weren’t made to endure this type of repression. You live in prisons which you have built for yourselves, calling them “homes”, offices, factories. 8 Sometimes I think that even our pitiful small houses are better than your luxury mansions. Strolling a hundred feet to the outhouse on a clear wintry night, through mud or snow, that’s one small link with nature. Or in the summer, in the back country, taking your time, listening to the humming of the insects or the flapping of birds’ wings, the sun warming your bones through the nodding branches of trees; you don’t even have that pleasure of coexistence with nature anymore. 9 You subscribe to the belief that everything must be germ free. No smells! Not even the good, natural man and woman odors. Eradicate the smell from under your armpits, from your skin. Rub it out, and then spray some botanical odor on yourself, stuff you can spend a lot of money on, ten dollars an ounce, so you know this has to smell good. Why do you keep such a distance from your bodies’ functions, cavities and smells that you’ve alienated yourselves from the natural world, of which you are an integral part? 10 I think you are so afraid and intolerant of the world around you. You deplore the natural world; you don’t want to see, feel, smell, or hear it. The feelings of rain and snow on your face, being numbed by an icy wind and warmed back up by a smoking fire, coming out of a hot sweat bath and plunging into a cold stream, these things are the spice of life, but you don’t want them anymore. 11 You’re cage dwellers, living in boxes which shut out the hot humidity of the summer and the chill of winter, living inside a body that no longer has a scent. You’re hearing the noise from the hi-fi instead of listening to the sounds of nature. You’re watching actors on TV having a make-believe experience when you no longer experience anything for yourself. That’s your way. It’s no good.
What nature is telling you? 1 Let’s sit down here, all of us, on the open prairie, where we can’t see a highway or a fence, free from the debris of the city. Let’s have no blankets to sit on, but let our bodies converge with the earth, the surrounding trees and shrubs. Let’s have the vegetation for a mattress, experiencing its texture, its sharpness and its softness. Let us become like stones, plants, and trees. Let us be animals, think and feel like animals. 2 This is my plea: Listen to the air. You can hear it, feel it, smell it, taste it. We feel it between us, as a presence presiding over the day. It is a good way to start thinking about nature and talking about it. To go further, we must rather talk to it, talk to the rivers, to the lakes, to the winds as to our relatives. 3 You have impaired our ability to experience nature in the good way, as part of it. Even here we are conscious that somewhere beyond the marsh and its cranes, somewhere out in those hills there are radar towers and highway overpasses. This land is so beautiful and strange that now some of you want to make it into a national park. You have not only contaminated the earth, the rocks, the minerals, all of which you call “dead” but which are very much alive; you have even changed the animals, which are part of us, changed them into vulgar zoological mutations, so no one can recognize them. 4 There is power in an antelope, so you let it graze within your fences. But what power do you see in a goat or sheep, prey animals with no defenses, creatures that hold still while you slaughter them? There was great power in a wolf, even in a fox. You have inverted nature and turned these noble animals into miniature lap dogs. Nature is bound by your ropes and whips and is obedient to your commands. You can’t do much with a cat, so you fix it, alter it, declaw it, and even cut its vocal cords so that you can experiment on it in a laboratory without being disturbed by its cries. 5 You have also made all types of wild birds into chickens – creatures with wings so impaired that they cannot fly. There are farms where you breed chickens for breast meat. Those birds are kept in low, repressive cages, forced to be hunched over all the time, which makes the breast muscles very big. One loud noise and the chickens go mad, killing themselves by flying against the walls of their cages. Having to spend all their lives stooped over makes an unnatural, crazy, no-good bird. It also makes unnatural, detached, no-good human beings. 6 That’s where you’ve fooled yourselves. You have not only altered, declawed, and deformed your winged and four-legged cousins; you have done it concurrently to yourselves. You inject Botox, or use plastic surgery, synthetic make-up and countless drugs. You have filtered and remolded humans into executives sitting in boardrooms, into office workers, into time-clock punchers. Your homes are filled with families disconnected from one another but tied to one great entity, television. 7 “Watch the ashes, don’t smoke, you’ll stain the curtains. Watch the goldfish bowl. Don’t lean your head against the wallpaper; your hair may be greasy. Don’t spill liquor on that table: You’ll peel off its delicate finish. You should have wiped your boots; the floor was just cleaned. Don’t, don’t, don’t ...” That is absurd! We weren’t made to endure this type of repression. You live in prisons which you have built for yourselves, calling them “homes”, offices, factories. 8 Sometimes I think that even our pitiful small houses are better than your luxury mansions. Strolling a hundred feet to the outhouse on a clear wintry night, through mud or snow, that’s one small link with nature. Or in the summer, in the back country, taking your time, listening to the humming of the insects or the flapping of birds’ wings, the sun warming your bones through the nodding branches of trees; you don’t even have that pleasure of coexistence with nature anymore. 9 You subscribe to the belief that everything must be germ free. No smells! Not even the good, natural man and woman odors. Eradicate the smell from under your armpits, from your skin. Rub it out, and then spray some botanical odor on yourself, stuff you can spend a lot of money on, ten dollars an ounce, so you know this has to smell good. Why do you keep such a distance from your bodies’ functions, cavities and smells that you’ve alienated yourselves from the natural world, of which you are an integral part? 10 I think you are so afraid and intolerant of the world around you. You deplore the natural world; you don’t want to see, feel, smell, or hear it. The feelings of rain and snow on your face, being numbed by an icy wind and warmed back up by a smoking fire, coming out of a hot sweat bath and plunging into a cold stream, these things are the spice of life, but you don’t want them anymore. 11 You’re cage dwellers, living in boxes which shut out the hot humidity of the summer and the chill of winter, living inside a body that no longer has a scent. You’re hearing the noise from the hi-fi instead of listening to the sounds of nature. You’re watching actors on TV having a make-believe experience when you no longer experience anything for yourself. That’s your way. It’s no good.