1、COLLEGE ENGLISHMy OathToday I truly believe This unique journey will completely change my life!Today I truly believe That all my efforts will produce generous returns!Today I truly believe English will be a powerful weapon in my life!Today I truly believe My dream of speaking beautifulEnglish will c
2、ome alive!Therefore,I must devote all my energy and time to learningEnglish with courage, passion, enthusiasm, and vigor!I must enjoy losing face!I must pour all my efforts into learning English!I must be absolutely responsible for myself!I must be 100 percent dedicated to my goal!I must be totally
3、crazy about speaking English!I must not waste one minute, or even one second!I must challenge my limits and then surpass them!I must conquer English and charge toward success!I will speak good English!I will because I think I will!Right here! Right now! Action! SHANGHAI FOREIGN LANGUAGE EDUCATION PR
4、ESS (Mar.17,2009)全新版大学英语综合教程第一册Unit 1 Growing Up The following words in the recording may be new to you: monster n. 怪物 prayer n. 祈祷 Part II Text A When we are writing we are often told to keep our readers in mind, to shape what we say to fit their tastes and interests. But there is one reader in par
5、ticular who should not be forgotten. Can you guess who? Russell Baker surprised himself and everyone else when he discovered the answer. WRITING FOR MYSELF Russell Baker The idea of becoming a writer had come to me off and on since my childhood in Belleville, but it wasnt until my third year in high
6、 school that the possibility took hold. Until then Id been bored by everything associated with English courses. I found English grammar dull and difficult. I hated the assignments to turn out long, lifeless paragraphs that were agony for teachers to read and for me to write. When our class was assig
7、ned to Mr. Fleagle for third-year English I anticipated another cheerless year in that most tedious of subjects. Mr. Fleagle had a reputation among students for dullness and inability to inspire. He was said to be very formal, rigid and hopelessly out of date. To me he looked to be sixty or seventy
8、and excessively prim. He wore primly severe eyeglasses, his wavy hair was primly cut and primly combed. He wore prim suits with neckties set primly against the collar buttons of his white shirts. He had a primly pointed jaw, a primly straight nose, and a prim manner of speaking that was so correct,
9、so gentlemanly, that he seemed a comic antique. I prepared for an unfruitful year with Mr. Fleagle and for a long time was not disappointed. Late in the year we tackled the informal essay. Mr. Fleagle distributed a homework sheet offering us a choice of topics. None was quite so simple-minded as “Wh
10、at I Did on My Summer Vacation,“ but most seemed to be almost as dull. I took the list home and did nothing until the night before the essay was due. Lying on the sofa, I finally faced up to the unwelcome task, took the list out of my notebook, and scanned it. The topic on which my eye stopped was “
11、The Art of Eating Spaghetti.“ This title produced an extraordinary sequence of mental images. Vivid memories came flooding back of a night in Belleville when all of us were seated around the supper table Uncle Allen, my mother, Uncle Charlie, Doris, Uncle Hal and Aunt Pat served spaghetti for supper
12、. Spaghetti was still a little known foreign dish in those days. Neither Doris nor I had ever eaten spaghetti, and none of the adults had enough experience to be good at it. All the good humor of Uncle Allens house reawoke in my mind as I recalled the laughing arguments we had that night about the s
13、ocially respectable method for moving spaghetti from plate to mouth. Suddenly I wanted to write about that, about the warmth and good feeling of it, but I wanted to put it down simply for my own joy, not for Mr. Fleagle. It was a moment I wanted to recapture and hold for myself. I wanted to relive t
14、he pleasure of that evening. To write it as I wanted, however, would violate all the rules of formal composition Id learned in school, and Mr. Fleagle would surely give it a failing grade. Never mind. I would write something else for Mr. Fleagle after I had written this thing for myself. When I fini
15、shed it the night was half gone and there was no time left to compose a proper, respectable essay for Mr. Fleagle. There was no choice next morning but to turn in my tale of the Belleville supper. Two days passed before Mr. Fleagle returned the graded papers, and he returned everyones but mine. I wa
16、s preparing myself for a command to report to Mr. Fleagle immediately after school for discipline when I saw him lift my paper from his desk and knock for the classs attention. “Now, boys,“ he said. “I want to read you an essay. This is titled, The Art of Eating Spaghetti.“ And he started to read. M
17、y words! He was reading my words out loud to the entire class. Whats more, the entire class was listening. Listening attentively. Then somebody laughed, then the entire class was laughing, and not in contempt and ridicule, but with open-hearted enjoyment. Even Mr. Fleagle stopped two or three times
18、to hold back a small prim smile. I did my best to avoid showing pleasure, but what I was feeling was pure delight at this demonstration that my words had the power to make people laugh. In the eleventh grade, at the eleventh hour as it were, I had discovered a calling. It was the happiest moment of
19、my entire school career. When Mr. Fleagle finished he put the final seal on my happiness by saying, “Now that, boys, is an essay, dont you see. Its dont you see its of the very essence of the essay, dont you see. Congratulations, Mr. Baker.“ (797 words)第一单元成长课文 A我们写作时常常被告诫，脑子里要有读者，笔者所云一定要符合读者的口味和兴趣。
20、但有一位读者特别不该忘记。你能猜出是谁吗?当拉塞尔贝克找到这个问题的答案时，他自己和别人都感到大为惊讶。为自己而写拉塞尔田克从孩提时代，我还住在贝尔维尔时，我的脑子里就断断续续地转着当作家的念头，但直等到我高中三年级，这一想法才有了实现的可能。在这之前，我对所有跟英文课沾边的事都感到腻味。我觉得英文语法枯燥难懂。我痛恨那些长而乏味的段落写作，老师读着受累，我写着痛苦。弗利格尔先生接我们的高三英文课时，我就准备着在这门最最单调乏味的课上再熬上沉闷的一年。弗利格尔先生在学生中以其说话干巴和激励学生无术而出名。据说他拘谨刻板，完全落后于时代。我看他有六七十岁了，古板之极。他戴着古板的毫无装饰的眼镜，
21、微微卷曲的头发剪得笔齐，梳得纹丝不乱。他身穿古板的套装，白衬衣领扣外的领带打得丝不苟。他救着古板的尖下巴，古板的直鼻梁，说起话来本正经，字斟句酌，彬彬有礼，活脱脱一个橱稽的老古董。我作好准备，打算在弗利格尔先生的班上一无所获地混上年，不少日子过去了，还真率出所料。后半学期我们学写随笔小品文。弗利格尔先生发下一张家庭作业纸，出了不少题供我们选择。像“暑假二三事”那样傻乎乎的题目倒是一个也没有，但绝大多数样乏味。我把作文题带回家，直没写，直到要交作业的前一天晚上。我躺在沙发上，最终不得不面对这一讨厌的功课，便从笔记本里抽出作文题目单粗粗看。我的目光落在“吃意大利细面条的艺术”这个题目上。 这个题目
22、在我脑海里唤起了一连串不同寻常的图像。贝尔维尔之夜的清晰的回忆如潮水一般涌来，当时，我们大家起围坐在晚餐桌旁艾伦舅舅、我母亲、查理舅舅、多丽丝、哈尔舅舅帕特舅妈晚饭做的是意大利细面条。那时意大利细面条还是很少听说的异国食品。多丽丝和我都还从来没吃过，在座的大人也是经验不足，没有个吃起来得心应手的。艾伦舅舅家诙谐有趣的场景全都重现在我的脑海中，我回想起来，当晚我们笑作团，争论着该如何地把面条从盘子上送到嘴里才算合乎礼仪。突然我就想描述那切，描述当时那种温馨美好的气氛，但我把它写下来仅仅是想白得其乐，而不是为弗利格尔先生而写。那是我想重新捕捉并珍藏在心中的一个时刻。我想重温那个夜晚的愉快。然而，照
23、我希望的那样去写，就会违反我在学校里学的正式作文的种种法则弗利格尔先生也肯定会打它个不及格。没关系。等我为自己写好了之后，我可以再为弗利格尔先生写点什么别的东西。等我写完时已是半夜时分，再没时间为弗利格尔先生写篇循规蹈矩、像模像样的文章了。第二天上午，我别无选择，只好把我为自己而写的贝尔维尔晚餐的故事交了上去。两天后弗利格尔先生发还批改过的作文，他把别人的都发了，就是没有我的。我正准备着遵命放学就去弗利格尔先生那儿挨训，却看见他从桌上拿起我的作文，敲了敲桌子让大家注意听。“好了，孩子们， ”他说。 “我要给你们念一篇小品文。文章的题目是：吃意大利细面条的艺术。 ”于是他开始念了。是我写的!他给
24、全班大声念我写的文章。更不可思议的是，全班同学都在听着他念，而且听得很专心。有人笑出声来，接着全班都笑了，不是轻蔑嘲弄，而是乐乎乎地开怀大笑。就连弗利格尔先生也停顿了两三次，好抑制他那丝拘谨的微笑。 我尽力不流露出得意的心情，但是看到我写的文章竟然能使别人大笑，我真是心花怒放。就在十年级，可谓是最后的时刻，我找到了一个今生想做的事。这是我整个求学生涯中最幸福的刻。弗利格尔先生念完后说道：“瞧，孩子们，这就是小品文，懂了没有。这才是一知道吗这才是小品文的精髓，知道了没有。祝贺你，贝克先生。 ”他这番话使我沉浸在十全十美的幸福之中。Unit 2 Friendship Part II Text A
25、How do you feel when old friends are far away? Do you make an effort to keep in touch? Sometimes it is easy to put off writing a letter, thinking that there will be plenty of time tomorrow. But then sometimes, as this story shows, we leave it too late. Perhaps reading it will make you want to reach
26、for your pen. ALL THE CABBIE HAD WAS A LETTER Foster Furcolo He must have been completely lost in something he was reading because I had to tap on the windshield to get his attention. “Is your cab available?“ I asked when he finally looked up at me. He nodded, then said apologetically as I settled i
27、nto the back seat, “Im sorry, but I was reading a letter.“ He sounded as if he had a cold or something. “Im in no hurry,“ I told him. “Go ahead and finish your letter.“ He shook his head. “Ive read it several times already. I guess I almost know it by heart.“ “Letters from home always mean a lot,“ I
28、 said. “At least they do with me because Im on the road so much.“ Then, estimating that he was 60 or 70 years old, I guessed: “From a child or maybe a grandchild?“ “This isnt family,“ he replied. “Although,“ he went on, “come to think of it“, it might just as well have been family. Old Ed was my old
29、est friend. In fact, we used to call each other Old Friend when wed meet, that is. Im not much of a hand at writing.“ “I dont think any of us keep up our correspondence too well,“ I said. “I know I dont. But I take it hes someone youve known quite a while?“ “All my life, practically. We were kids to
30、gether, so we go way back.“ “Went to school together?“ “All the way through high school. We were in the same class, in fact, through both grade and high school.“ “There are not too many people whove had such a long friendship,“ I said. “Actually,“ the driver went on, “I hadnt seen him more than once
31、 or twice a year over the past 25 or 30 years because I moved away from the old neighborhood and you kind of lose touch even though you never forget. He was a great guy.“ “You said was. Does that mean ?“ He nodded. “Died a couple of weeks ago.“ “Im sorry,“ I said. “Its no fun to lose any friend and
32、losing a real old one is even tougher.“ He didnt reply to that, and we rode on in silence for a few minutes. But I realized that Old Ed was still on his mind when he spoke again, almost more to himself than to me: “I should have kept in touch. Yes,“ he repeated, “I should have kept in touch.“ “Well,
33、“ I agreed, “we should all keep in touch with old friends more than we do. But things come up and we just dont seem to find the time.“ He shrugged. “We used to find the time,“ he said. “Thats even mentioned in the letter.“ He handed it over to me. “Take a look.“ “Thanks,“ I said, “but I dont want to
34、 read your mail. Thats pretty personal.“ The driver shrugged. “Old Eds dead. Theres nothing personal now. Go ahead,“ he urged me. The letter was written in pencil. It began with the greeting “Old Friend,“ and the first sentence reminded me of myself. Ive been meaning to write for some time, but Ive
35、always postponed it. It then went on to say that he often thought about the good times they had had together when they both lived in the same neighborhood. It had references to things that probably meant something to the driver, such as the time Tim Shea broke the window, the Halloween that we tied
36、Old Mr. Parkers gate, and when Mrs. Culver used to keep us after school. “You must have spent a lot of time together,“ I said to him. “Like it says there,“ he answered, “about all we had to spend in those days was time.“ He shook his head: “Time.“ I thought the next paragraph of the letter was a lit
37、tle sad: I began the letter with “Old Friend“ because thats what weve become over the years old friends. And there arent many of us left. “You know,“ I said to him, “when it says here that there arent many of us left, thats absolutely right. Every time I go to a class reunion, for example, there are
38、 fewer and fewer still around.“ “Time goes by,“ the driver said. “Did you two work at the same place?“ I asked him. “No, but we hung out on the same corner when we were single. And then, when we were married, we used to go to each others house every now and then. But for the last 20 or 30 years its
39、been mostly just Christmas cards. Of course thered be always a note wed each add to the cards usually some news about our families, you know, what the kids were doing, who moved where, a new grandchild, things like that but never a real letter or anything like that.“ “This is a good part here,“ I sa
40、id. “Where it says Your friendship over the years has meant an awful lot to me, more than I can say because Im not good at saying things like that. “ I found myself nodding in agreement. “That must have made you feel good, didnt it?“ The driver said something that I couldnt understand because he see
41、med to be all choked up, so I continued: “I know Id like to receive a letter like that from my oldest friend.“ We were getting close to our destination so I skipped to the last paragraph. So I thought youd like to know that I was thinking of you. And it was signed，Your Old Friend, Tom. I handed back
42、 the letter as we stopped at my hotel. “Enjoyed talking with you,“ I said as I took my suitcase out of the cab. Tom? The letter was signed Tom? “I thought your friends name was Ed,“ I said. “Why did he sign it Tom?“ “The letter was not from Ed to me,“ he explained. “Im Tom. Its a letter I wrote to h
43、im before I knew hed died. So I never mailed it.“ He looked sort of sorrowful, or as if he were trying to see something in the distance. “I guess I should have written it sooner.“ When I got to my hotel room I didnt unpack right away. First I had to write a letter and mail it. (1093 words)第二单元友谊课文 A
44、 老朋友天各一方，你心有何感?你是否努力保持联系? 有时候写信的事很容易会一拖再拖，总以为明天有的是时间。然而，正如这则故事所表明的，有时我们拖得太晚了。也许读一读这个故事会让你提起笔来。 出租车司机拥有的就剩一封信福斯特韩克洛 他准是完全沉浸在所读的东西里了，因为我不得不敲挡风玻璃来引起他的注意。 他总算抬头看我了。 “你出车吗?”我问道。他点点头，当我坐进后座时，他抱歉地说：“对不起，我在读一封信。 ”听上去他像是得了感冒什么的。“我不着急， ”我对他说。 “你接着把信读完吧。 ” 他摇了摇头。 “我已经读了好几遍了。我想我都能背出来了。 ”“家书抵万金啊， ”我说。 “至少对我来说是这样
45、，因为我老是在外旅行。 ”我估量他有六七十岁了，便猜测说：“是孩子还是孙子写宋的?”“不是家里人， ”他回答说。 “不过， ”他接着说， “想起来，也可以算是一家人了。埃德老伙计是我最老的朋友了。实际上，过去我俩总是以老朋友相称的就是说，当我俩相见时。我这人就是不大会写东西。 ”“我看大家写信都不那么勤快， ”我说。 “我自己笔头就很懒。我看，你认识他挺久了吧?”“差不多认识了一辈子了。我俩小时候就一起玩，所以我俩的友谊确实很长了。 ”“一起上的学?” “都一起上到高中呢。事实上，我俩从小学到高中都在一个班里。 ”“保持这么长久友谊的人可真不多见啊， ”我说。“其实呢， ”司机接着说， “近
46、25 到 30 年来，我跟他一年只见一两次面，因为我从原来住的老街坊搬了出来，联系自然就少了，虽说你一直放在心上。他在的时候可真是个大好人。 ”“你刚才说他在的时候 。你是说?”他点了点头。 “前两个星期过世啦。 ” “真遗憾， ”我说。 “失去朋友真不是个滋味，失去个真正的老朋友更让人受不了。 ”他开着车，没有接话儿。我们沉默了几分钟，可我知道他还在想着老埃德。他又开口时，与其说是跟我说话，还不如说是自言自语：“我真该一直保持联系。真的， ”他重复道，“我真该直保持联系。 ” “是明， ”我表示赞同， “我们都该与老朋友保持更多的联系。不过总是有事情冒出来，好像就是抽不出空来。 ” 他耸了耸
47、肩。 “我们过去总能抽出空来， ”他说。 “信里还提到呢。 ”他把信递给我。 “你看看吧。 ”“谢谢你， ”我说， “不过我不想读你的信。这纯属私事。 ”司机耸，一耸肩。 “老埃德人都死了。没什么私事不私事了。念吧， ”他催促说。信是用铅笔写的。称呼写着“老朋友” ，而开头第一句话让我想到自己。 “早就想写信了，可就是拖再拖。 ”信里接着写道，他常常回想从前两人住在一个街坊时的快乐时光。信里提到些事，可能对司机很重要，比如“那次蒂姆谢打破窗子，那年万圣节前夕，我们把老帕克先生的大门拴了起来，还有卡尔弗太太老是在放学后把咱俩留下训斥的那阵子” 。“你们俩准是在一起度过了不少时光， ”我对他说。“
48、就跟信里写的那样， ”他回答说， “我俩在那个时候能花的只有时间。 ”他摇头叹道：“时间吓可。 ”信里接下来的那段我觉得有点凄凉：“信的开头我写着老朋友 ，因为这么多年来，我们这对老朋友渐渐都老了。我们这些人当中留下的也不多了。 ”“你要知道， ”我对他说， “信里说我们这些人当中留下的不多了，说得一点不错。比如说，每次我去参加老同学聚会，来的人总是越来越少。 ”“时间不饶人啊， ”司机说。“你们俩以前在一起工作吗?”我问他。“不，不过没成家时我俩总在一起闲荡。后来，两人都成了家，就不时相互串门。可最近这二三十年来，主要就是寄寄圣诞卡了。当然，我俩都总在卡上写几句通常是关于各自家里的情况，不是
49、吗，孩子们在干些什么，谁搬到哪儿，添了个小孙子，都是这类事可一直都没正儿八经地写过信什么的。 ” “这一处写得好， ”我说。 “这里写道：你多年的友谊对我非常重要，远比我能说出来的重要得多，因为我不擅长说这样的话。 ， ， ，我颔首称是。 “这话准让你听着开心，是吧?”司机说了句什么，可我没听明白，因为他似乎哽噎得厉害。于是我接着说：“我也真想收到这样一封老朋友的来信。 ”我们快到目的地了，于是我跳到最后一段。 “因此我想你一定想知道我惦记着你。 ”信末署名：“老朋友汤姆” 。我们在我的旅店前停下，我把信递了回去。 “很高兴能和你聊聊， ”我将衣箱从车上提下时说。汤姆？信的署名是汤姆？“我节的你朋友叫埃德， ”我说。 “为什么他署名汤姆呢？”“这封信不是汤姆写给我的， ”他解释说。 “我是汤姆。这是我在得知他去世前写给他的信。所以我一直没寄出。 ”他神情有点悲伤，似乎想看清远处什么东西。 “我想我真该早些写这封信。 ”我进了旅馆房间之后，没有马上打开箱包。
