高中英語文章故事類
古人通過神話故事，表示了自己對當時社會的感想。下面是本站小編帶來的高中英語文章故事類，歡迎閱讀!
Happiness
I am in desperate need of help -- or I'll go crazy. We're living in a single room -- my wife, my children and my in-laws. So our nerves are on edge, we yell and scream at one another. The room is a hell.
Do you promise to do whatever I tell you? said the Master gravely.
I swear I shall do anything.
Very well. How many animals do you have?
A cow, a goat and six chickens.
Take them all into the room with you. Then come back after a week.
The disciple was appalled. But he had promised to obey! So he took the animals in. A week later he came back, a pitiable figure, Moaning, I'm a nervous wreck. The dirt! The stench! The noise! We're all on the verge of madness!
Go back, said the Master, and put the animals out.
The man ran all the way home. And came back the following day, his eyes sparkling with joy. How sweet life is! The animals are out. The home is a Paradise, so quiet and clean and roomy!
快幫幫我吧，否則我要發瘋了!我們一家人住在一間房間裏--我妻子、我的孩子們和我妻子家裏的人。我們整日神經緊張，互相大喊大叫。家裏就像是地獄一樣。
你能發誓按我說的去做嗎? 大師嚴肅地說。
我發誓我什麼都願意做。
很好。你有多少頭牲口?
一頭奶牛、一頭山羊和六隻雞。
把它們全部趕進你家裏。一個星期之後再回來。
弟子嚇了一跳，但他已經發誓照辦。於是，他把牲口趕進家中。一週以後他回來了，模樣慘不忍睹，他呻吟道：“我實在受不了了。家裏到處是塵土!惡臭!叫聲!我們全都快發瘋了!
回去， 大師說， 把牲口趕出去。
那人一路跑回家。第二天他又回來了，他的眼睛閃爍着快樂的光芒。 生活是多麼美好啊!終於把牲口趕出去了。現在家裏就像天堂一樣，安靜、整潔而又寬敞!
高中英語文章故事類閱讀rometheus and Man
普羅米修斯與人類
In the conflict between Cronus and Jupiter, Prometheus had adopted the cause of the Olympian deities. To him and his brother Epimetheus was now committed the office of making man and providing him and all other animals with the faculties necessary for their preservation. Epimetheus proceeded to bestow upon the different animals the various gifts of courage, strength, swiftness, and sagacity. Taking some earth and kneading it with water. Prometheus made man in the image of the gods. He gave him an upright stature. Then since Epimetheus had been so prodigal of his gifts to other animals that no blessing was left worth conferring upon the noblest of creatures, Prometheus ascended to heaven, lighted his torch at the chariot of the sun, and brought down fire. But it was only rather grudgingly that Jupiter granted mortals the use of fire.
Then there came the occasion that when gods and men were in dispute at Sicyon concerning the prerogatives of each, Prometheus, by an ingenious trick, attempted to settle the question in favor of man. Dividing into two portions a sacrificial bull, he wrapped all the eatable parts in the skin, cunningly surmounted with uninviting entrails; but the bones he garnished with a plausible mass of fat. He then offered Jupiter his choice. The king of Heaven, although he perceived the intended fraud, took the heap of bones and fat, and forthwith availing himself of this insult as an excuse for punishing mankind, deprived the race of fire. But Prometheus regained the treasure, stealing it from heaven in a hollow tube.
By Jove‘s order Prometheus was chained to a rock on Mount Caucasus, and subjected to the attack of an eagle which, for ages, preyed upon his liver, yet succeeded not in consuming it.
In his steadfastness to withstand the torment the Titan was supported by the knowledge that in the thirteenth generation there should arrive a hero, - sprung from Jove himself, - to release him. And in fullness of time the hero did arrive: none other than the mighty Hercules. No higher service, thinks this radiant and masterful personage, remains to be performed than to free the champion of mankind. Hercules utters these words to the Titan --
The soul of man can never be enslaved
Save by its own infirmities, nor freed
Save by its very strength and own resolve
And constant vision and supreme endeavor!
You will be free? Then, courage, O my brother!
O let the soul stand in the open door
Of life and death and knowledge and desire
And see the peaks of thought kindle with sunrise!
Then shall the soul return to rest no more,
Nor harvest dreams in the dark field of sleep -
Rather the soul shall go with great resolve
To dwell at last upon the shining mountains
In liberal converse with the eternal stars.
Thereupon he kills the eagle; and sets Jove‘s victim free.
在克洛諾斯反對朱庇特的鬥爭中，普羅米修斯站到了奧林波斯山諸神的一邊。後來塑造人和賦予人和其他所有動物以生存本領的任務就交給了他和他的弟弟厄庇墨透斯。厄庇墨透斯將勇敢、力氣、快速、伶俐等天賦分別賜予各種動物。普羅米修斯則用土和水揉成了泥，照着神的模樣捏出了人;他使人呈站立的姿勢。厄庇墨透斯把各種天資都慷慨地贈予了其他動物，竟沒有剩下什麼象樣的天賦能賜給最崇高的被造物了。於是普羅米修斯升到天上，在太陽馬車那裏點燃了一隻火把，將火送到地上來。可是，朱庇特卻是不大樂意允准人們用火的。有一次，神和人在西錫安對各自的權限爭執不休，普羅米修斯耍了一個聰明的計謀，企圖使問題的解決對人類有利。他把一頭獻祭用的牛分爲兩份，把所有可食用的部分包在牛皮裏，並狡滑地在上面擺滿不招人喜歡的內臟;把骨頭用一層肥脂裹起來，看上去象是好肉。然後他讓朱庇特挑選。天國之王看穿了他的陰謀詭計，但還是挑了那堆骨頭和肥膘，從而利用這一侮辱爲藉口剝奪人類使用火的權利。但是普羅米修斯用一根空心管子從天府偷盜火種，再次取得了寶貴的天火。
爲此，朱庇特命令將普羅米修斯鎖在高加索山上的一塊絕巖峭壁上，成年累月地受着一頭老鷹的折磨，它天天啄食他的肝臟卻總不能把它吃光。這位提坦巨人堅忍不拔地忍受着煎熬，因爲他知道在第十三代時就會有一個英雄---朱庇特的親兒子---來解救他。果然不爽，時候一到英雄真的來了。他不是別人，就是那個力大無窮的海格立斯。這個奮煥英偉的人物認爲他需要作的最大貢獻莫過於解救這個人類的衛士。海格立斯向提坦巨人說：
人的靈魂永遠不能被征服---
除非自身變得脆弱;也永遠不能得解放---
除非自身充滿決心和力量，以及
不稍虧的目光和無以復加的努力!
想自由嗎?那就鼓起勇氣，我的兄弟!
啊!讓靈魂站在生與死，知與欲
敞開的門扉前，
見到旭日點燃思想的頂峯!
那時靈魂再不會依然故態，
或在黑色的睡鄉中收穫夢幻---
靈魂將邁着堅定的步伐
直上光芒萬丈的山巔
和不落的羣星自由交談。
然後他殺死了老鷹解放了朱庇特的囚徒。
高中英語文章故事類學習FROM my father I received the best inheritance, namely a good temper. And who was my father? That has nothing to do with the good temper; but I will say he was lively, good-looking round, and fat; he was both in appearance and character a complete contradiction to his profession. And pray what was his profession and his standing in respectable society? Well, perhaps, if in the beginning of a book these were written and printed, many, when they read it, would lay the book down and say, It seems to me a very miserable title, I don't like things of this sort. And yet my father was not a skin-dresser nor an executioner; on the contrary, his employment placed him at the head of the grandest people of the town, and it was his place by right. He had to precede the bishop, and even the princes of the blood; he always went first,- he was a hearse driver!
There, now, the truth is out. And I will own, that when people saw my father perched up in front of the omnibus of death, dressed in his long, wide, black cloak, and his black-edged, three-cornered hat on his head, and then glanced at his round, jocund face, round as the sun, they could not think much of sorrow or the grave. That face said, It is nothing, it will all end better than people think. So I have inherited from him, not only my good temper, but a habit of going often to the churchyard, which is good, when done in a proper humor; and then also I take in the Intelligencer, just as he used to do.
I am not very young, I have neither wife nor children, nor a library, but, as I said, I read the Intelligencer, which is enough for me; it is to me a delightful paper, and so it was to my father. It is of great use, for it contains all that a man requires to know; the names of the preachers at the church, and the new books which are published; where houses, servants, clothes, and provisions may be obtained. And then what a number of subscriptions to charities, and what innocent verses! Persons seeking interviews and engagements, all so plainly and naturally stated. Certainly, a man who takes in the Intelligencer may live merrily and be buried contentedly, and by the end of his life will have such a capital stock of paper that he can lie on a soft bed of it, unless he prefers wood shavings for his resting-place. The newspaper and the churchyard were always exciting objects to me. My walks to the latter were like bathing-places to my good humor. Every one can read the newspaper for himself, but come with me to the churchyard while the sun shines and the trees are green, and let us wander among the graves. Each of them is like a closed book, with the back uppermost, on which we can read the title of what the book contains, but nothing more. I had a great deal of information from my father, and I have noticed a great deal myself. I keep it in my diary, in which I write for my own use and pleasure a history of all who lie here, and a few more beside.
Now we are in the churchyard. Here, behind the white iron railings, once a rose-tree grew; it is gone now, but a little bit of evergreen, from a neighboring grave, stretches out its green tendrils,and makes some appearance; there rests a very unhappy man, and yet while he lived he might be said to occupy a very good position. He had enough to live upon, and something to spare; but owing to his refined tastes the least thing in the world annoyed him. If he went to a theatre of an evening, instead of enjoying himself he would be quite annoyed if the machinist had put too strong a light into one side of the moon, or if the representations of the sky hung over the scenes when they ought to have hung behind them; or if a palm-tree was introduced into a scene representing the Zoological Gardens of Berlin, or a cactus in a view of Tyrol, or a beech-tree in the north of Norway. As if these things were of any consequence! Why did he not leave them alone? Who would trouble themselves about such trifles? especially at a comedy, where every one is expected to be amused. Then sometimes the public applauded too much, or too little, to please him. They are like wet wood, he would say, looking round to see what sort of people were present, this evening; nothing fires them. Then he would vex and fret himself because they did not laugh at the right time, or because they laughed in the wrong places; and so he fretted and worried himself till at last the unhappy man fretted himself into the grave.
Here rests a happy man, that is to say, a man of high birth and position, which was very lucky for him, otherwise he would have been scarcely worth notice. It is beautiful to observe how wisely nature orders these things. He walked about in a coat embroidered all over,and in the drawing-rooms of society looked just like one of those rich pearl-embroidered bell-pulls, which are only made for show; and behind them always hangs a good thick cord for use. This man also had a stout, useful substitute behind him, who did duty for him, and performed all his dirty work. And there are still, even now, these serviceable cords behind other embroidered bell-ropes. It is all so wisely arranged, that a man may well be in a good humor.
Here rests,- ah, it makes one feel mournful to think of him!-but here rests a man who, during sixty-seven years, was never remembered to have said a good thing; he lived only in the hope of having a good idea. At last he felt convinced, in his own mind, that he really had one, and was so delighted that he positively died of joy at the thought of having at last caught an idea. Nobody got anything by it; indeed, no one even heard what the good thing was. Now I can imagine that this same idea may prevent him from resting quietly in his grave; for suppose that to produce a good effect, it is necessary to bring out his new idea at breakfast, and that he can only make his appearance on earth at midnight, as ghosts are believed generally to do; why then this good idea would not suit the hour, and the man would have to carry it down again with him into the grave- that must be a troubled grave.
The woman who lies here was so remarkably stingy, that during her life she would get up in the night and mew, that her neighbors might think she kept a cat. What a miser she was!
Here rests a young lady, of a good family, who would always make her voice heard in society, and when she sang Mi manca la voce,
it was the only true thing she ever said in her life.
I want a voice, or, I have no voice.
Here lies a maiden of another description. She was engaged to be married,- but, her story is one of every-day life; we will leave her to rest in the grave.
Here rests a widow, who, with music in her tongue, carried gall in her heart. She used to go round among the families near, and search out their faults, upon which she preyed with all the envy and malice of her nature. This is a family grave. The members of this family held so firmly together in their opinions, that they would believe in no other. If the newspapers, or even the whole world, said of a certain subject, It is so-and-so; and a little schoolboy declared he had learned quite differently, they would take his assertion as the only true one, because he belonged to the family. And it is well known that if the yard-cock belonging to this family happened to crow at midnight, they would declare it was morning, although the watchman and all the clocks in the town were proclaiming the hour of twelve at night.
The great poet Goethe concludes his Faust with the words, may be continued; so might our wanderings in the churchyard be continued.
I come here often, and if any of my friends, or those who are not my friends, are too much for me, I go out and choose a plot of ground in which to bury him or her. Then I bury them, as it were; there they lie, dead and powerless, till they come back new and better characters. Their lives and their deeds, looked at after my own fashion, I write down in my diary, as every one ought to do. Then, if any of our friends act absurdly, no one need to be vexed about it. Let them bury the offenders out of sight, and keep their good temper. They can also read the Intelligencer, which is a paper written by the people, with their hands guided. When the time comes for the history of my life, to be bound by the grave, then they will write upon it as my epitaph-
The man with a cheerful temper.
