有關(guān)優(yōu)秀英語美文摘抄
有關(guān)優(yōu)秀英語美文摘抄
閱讀經(jīng)典美文是拓寬思維、增長見識、豐富情感、涵養(yǎng)素質(zhì)的最有效手段。本文是有關(guān)優(yōu)秀英語美文，希望對大家有幫助!
有關(guān)優(yōu)秀英語美文：生活的藝術(shù)
The art of living is to know when to hold fast and when to let go.For life is a paradox: it enjoins us to cling to its many gifts even while it ordains their eventual relinquishment. The rabbis of old put it thisway: “A man comes to this world with his fist clenched, but when he dies, his hand is open.”Surely we ought to hold fast to life, for it is wondrous, and full of a beauty that breaks through every pore of God’s own earth. We know that this is so, but all too often we recognize this truth only in our backward glance when we remember what was and then suddenly realize that it is no more.We remember a beauty that faded, a love that waned. But we remember with far greater pain that we did not see that beauty when it flowered,that we failed to respond with love when it was tendered.
A recent experience re-taught me this truth. I was hospitalized following a severe heart attack and had been in intensive care for several days. It was not a pleasant place.One morning, I had to have some additional tests. The required machines were located in a building at the opposite end of the hospital, so I had to be wheeled across the courtyard on a gurney.As we emerged from our unit, the sunlight hit me.That’s all there was to my experience. Just the light of the sun. And yet how beautiful it was—how warming, how sparking, how brilliant! I looked to see whether anyone else relished the sun’s golden glow, but everyone was hurrying to and fro，most with eyes fixed on the ground. Then I remembered how often I, too, had been indifferent to the grandeur of each day, too preoccupied with petty and sometimes even mean concerns to respond from that experience is really as commonplace as was the experience itself:life’s gifts are precious，but we are too heedless of them.
Here then is the first pole of life’s paradoxical demands on us: never too busy for the wonder and the awe of life. Be reverent before each dawning day. Embrace each hour. Seize each golden minute.Hold fast to life, but not so fast that you cannot let go. This is the second side of life’s coin, the opposite pole ofits paradox: We must accept our losses, and learn how to let go.This is not an easy lesson to learn, especially when we are young and think that the world is ours to command, that whatever we desire with the fullforce of our passionate being can，nay will be ours. But then life moves along to confront with realities,and slowly but surely this truth dawns upon us.At every stage of life we sustain losses，and grow in the process.
We begin our independent lives only when we emerge from the womb and lose its protective shelter. We entera progression of schools, then we leave our mothers and fathers and our childhood homes. We get married and have children and then have to let them go. We confront the death of our parents and our spouses. We face the gradual or not so gradual waning of our strength. And ultimately, as the parable of the open and closed hand suggests, we must confront the inevitability of our own demise， losing ourselves as it were, allthat we were or dreamed to be.
有關(guān)優(yōu)秀英語美文：手表
I look around me and the room has changed imperceptibly and overtly.There are elephantson thin legs lining the walls, the people around me have become giant insects,my watch meltsand slowly drips from my wrist.A Dalinian dream? A Kafkaesque nightmare?The breeze ofsurrealism blows through my hair; an existential whirlwind captures my imagination.
In the images of these two great creators,I see reflections of beautiful and insatiableimaginations, completely undisciplined, unbounded;yet full of the magic and power of theartists’ visions.These images are not as true as photographs, but they are a hundred timesmore honest.I, too, often find myself misrepresenting the world.In the midst of a truly drearylecture I sometimes force wakefulness upon myself by images of what I am learning,and insteadof seeing my teacher carrying on about the military campaigns of the Civil War,I see musketsblazing against raised flags.
More often, I see my life as an adventure; romanticized, idealized, exhilarating.Instead ofseeing a boring test of memory, I see a test of will; instead of a debate,I see a battle of wits;instead of seeing the photographic image of life,I see the existential and intoxicating war ofman against Fate itself.In these images I am sometimes challenged by facelessopponents,sometimes I am climbing a mountain. Perhaps I am fighting a bull or jumping onrooftops.
At times I question the benefits of reinventing the world to suit my fancy.It is true, of course,that everyone does this.Even the strictest of thinkers cannot avoid letting their own vision ofthe world show through in their works.Dali and Kafka are not exceptions, they are extremes.Why are we all so eager to get away from reality?I find that I, like many others, often don’tseem to fuly belong. But of course I do belong,this is my world as much as anyone else’s.I tryto solve this contradiction between the perceived andthe real by altering the world ever soslightly a horse drawn carriage instead of a car, a prize winning essay rather than anotherhomework assignment so that it finds its place around me.
A simple solution indeed.We do not change ourselves to fit the world, but change the world tofit within us.A simple act of wish fulfillment, and all is done.And, of course, to melt a watchwith the mind is far better than to enslave the intellect within the watch like a genie in abottle.Freedom to think requires only so little,and to adjust the world to one’s thought is evermore noble than adjusting thought to the world.
有關(guān)優(yōu)秀英語美文：十月的日出
I was up the next morning before the October sunrise, and away through the wild and thewoodland. The rising of the sun was noble in the cold and warmth of it; peeping down thespread of light, he raised his shoulder heavily over the edge of gray mountain and waveringlength of upland. Beneath his gaze the dew-fogs dipped and crept to the hollow places, thenstole away in line and column, holding skirts and clinging subtly at the sheltering cornerswhere rock hung over grass-land, while the brave lines of the hills came forth, one beyond othergliding.
The woods arose in folds, like drapery of awakened mountains, stately with a depth of awe,and memory of the tempests. Autumn's mellow hand was upon them, as they owned already,touched with gold and red and olive, and their joy towards the sun was less to a bridegroomthan a father. Yet before the floating impress of the woods could clear itself, suddenly thegladsome light leaped over hill and valley, casting amber, blue, and purple, and a tint of rich redrose, according to the scene they lit on, and the curtain flung around; yet all alike dispellingfear and the cloven hoof of darkness, all on the wings of hope advancing, and proclaiming, "God is here!" Then life and joy sprang reassured from every crouching hollow; every flowerand bud and bird had a fluttering sense of them, and all the flashing of God's gaze merged intosoft beneficence. So, perhaps, shall break upon us that eternal morning, when crag and chasmshall be no more, neither hill and valley, nor great unvintaged ocean; when glory shall not scarehappiness, neither happiness envy glory; but all things shall arise, and shine in the light of theFather's countenance, because itself is risen.
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