下面是學(xué)習(xí)啦小編整理的著名人物英語演講稿，希望對大家有幫助。

　　著名人物英語演講稿：Knowing the Consequences of Choice

　　Over the past Spring Festival, I got involved in a family dispute. Right before I got home, four satellite channels of CCTV were added to the 14 channels we had already had. In prime time at night, they all had interesting shows. Therefore, the five of us-my parents, my sisters and I-had to argue over what to watch. Finally, we agreed that we should watch the "most interesting" programme... If we

　　could agree what that was.

　　However, all of us there remember that for a long time after we had TV, there were only one or two channels available. The increase in options reveals an important change in our life: the abundance of choice.

　　Fifteen years ago we all dressed in one style and in one colour. Today, we select from a wide variety of designs and shades.

　　Fifteen years ago, we read few newspapers. Today, we read English newspapers like the China Daily and the 21st Century, as well as various Chinese newspapers.

　　Fifteen years ago, English majors took only courses in language and literature. Today, we also study Western culture, journalism, business communications, international relations, and computer science.

　　The emergence of choices marks the beginning of a new era in China's history; an era of diversity, of material and cultural richness, and an era of the rebirth of the Chinese nation.

　　We enjoy the abundance of choice. But this has not come easily.

　　About 150 years ago, China was forced to open up its door by Western canons and gunboats. It has been through the struggle and sacrifice of generations that we finally have gained the opportunity to choose for ourselves. The policy of reform and openness is the choice that has made all the difference.

　　Like others of my age, I'm too young to have experienced the time when the Chinese people had no right to choose. However, as the next century draws near, it is time to ask: What does choice really mean to us young people?

　　Is choice a game that relies on chance or luck? Is choice an empty promise that never materializes? Or is choice a puzzle so difficult that we have to avoid it?

　　First, I would like to say: To choose means to claim opportunities.

　　I am a third-year English major. An important choice for me, of course, is what to do upon graduation. I can go to graduate school, at home or abroad. I can go to work as a teacher, a translator, a journalist, an editor and a diplomat. Actually, the system of mutual selection has allowed me to approach almost　every career opportunity in China.

　　Indeed, this is not going to be an easy choice. I would love to work in such big cities as Beijing or Shanghai or Shenzhen. I would also love to return to my hometown, which is intimate, though slightly lagging in development. I would love to stay in the coastal area where life is exciting and fast-paced. I would also love to put down roots in central and western China, which is underdeveloped, but holds

　　great potential.

　　All of these sound good. But they are only possibilities. To those of us who are bewildered at the abundance of opportunities, I would like to say: To choose means to accept challenge.

　　To us young people, challenge often emerges in the form of competition. In the next century, competition will not only come from other college graduates, but also from people of all ages and of all origins.

　　With increasing international exchanges, we have to face growing competition from the whole outside world. This is calling for a higher level of our personal development.

　　Fifteen years ago, the knowledge of a foreign language or of computer operation was considered merely an advantage. But today, with wider educational opportunities, this same knowledge has become essential to everyone.

　　Given this situation, even our smallest choices will require great wisdom and personal determination.

　　As we gain more initiative in choice making, the consequence of each choice also becomes more important.

　　As we gain more initiative in choice making, the consequence of each choice also becomes more important.

　　Nuclear power, for instance, may improve our quality of life. But it can also be used to damage the lives and possessions of millions.

　　Economic development has enriched our lives but brought with it serious harm to our air, water and health.

　　To those of us who are blind to the consequences of their choices, I would like to say, To choose means to take responsibility. When we are making choices for ourselves, we cannot casually say: "It's just my own business. " As policy makers of the next century, we cannot fail to see our responsibility to those who share the earth with us.

　　The traditional Chinese culture teaches us to study hard and work hard so as to honor our family. To me, however, this family is not just the five of us who quarreled over television programmes. Rather, it is the whole of the human family. As I am making my choices, I will not forget the smile of my teacher when I correctly spelled out the word "China" for the first time, I will not forget the happy faces of the boys and girls we helped to send back to school in the mountains of Jiangxi Province. I will not forget the tearful eyes of women and children in Bosnia, Chechnya and Somali, where millions are suffering from war, famine or poverty.

　　All these people, known and unknown, make up our big human family. At different points, they came into my life and broaden my perspective. Now as I am to make choices for myself, it is time to make efforts to improve their lives, because a world will benefit us all only if every one in it can lead a peaceful and prosperous life.

　　著名人物英語演講稿：

　　Student Speech Delivered at the Washington University Engineering Graduate Student Recognition Ceremony

　　15 May 1997

　　Lorrie Faith Cranor

　　Faculty, family, friends, and fellow graduates, good evening.

　　I am honored to address you tonight. On behalf of the graduating masters and doctoral students of Washington University's School of Engineering and Applied Science, I would like to thank all the parents, spouses, families, and friends who encouraged and supported us as we worked towards our graduate degrees. I would especially like to thank my own family, eight members of which are in the audience today. I would also like to thank all of the department secretaries and other engineering school staff members who always seemed to be there when confused graduate students needed help. And finally I would like to thank the Washington University faculty members who served as our instructors, mentors, and friends.

　　As I think back on the seven-and-a-half years I spent at Washington University, my mind is filled with memories, happy, sad, frustrating, and even humorous.

　　Tonight I would like to share with you some of the memories that I take with me as I leave Washington University.

　　I take with me the memory of my office on the fourth floor of Lopata Hall - the room at the end of the hallway that was too hot in summer, too cold in winter, and always too far away from the women's restroom. The window was my office's best feature. Were it not for the physics building across the way, it would have afforded me a clear view of the arch. But instead I got a view of the roof of the physics building. I also had a view of one corner of the roof of Urbauer Hall, which seemed to be a favorite perch for various species of birds who alternately won perching rights for several weeks at a time. And I had a nice view of the physics courtyard, noteworthy as a good place for watching people run their dogs. It's amazing how fascinating these views became the longer I worked on my dissertation. But my favorite view was of a nearby oak tree. From my fourth-floor vantage point I had a rather intimate view of the tree and the various birds and squirrels that inhabit it. Occasionally a bird would land on my window sill, which usually had the effect of startling both of us.

　　I take with me the memory of two young professors who passed away while I was a graduate student. Anne Johnstone, the only female professor from whom I took a course in the engineering school, and Bob Durr, a political science professor and a member of my dissertation committee, both lost brave battles with cancer. I remember them fondly.

　　I take with me the memory of failing the first exam in one of the first engineering courses I took as an undergraduate. I remember thinking the course was just too hard for me and that I would never be able to pass it. So I went to talk to the professor, ready to drop the class. And he told me not to give up, he told me I could succeed in his class. For reasons that seemed completely ludicrous at the time, he said he had faith in me. And after that my grades in the class slowly improved, and I ended the semester with an A on the final exam. I remember how motivational it was to know that someone believed in me.

　　I take with me memories of the midwestern friendliness that so surprised me when I arrived in St. Louis 8 years ago. Since moving to New Jersey, I am sad to say, nobody has asked me where I went to high school.

　　I take with me the memory of the short-lived computer science graduate student social committee lunches. The idea was that groups of CS grad students were supposed to take turns cooking a monthly lunch. But after one grad student prepared a pot of chicken that poisoned almost the entire CS grad student population and one unlucky faculty member in one fell swoop, there wasn't much enthusiasm for having more lunches.

　　I take with me the memory of a more successful graduate student effort, the establishment of the Association of Graduate Engineering Students, known as AGES. Started by a handful of engineering graduate students because we needed a way to elect representatives to a campus-wide graduate student government, AGES soon grew into an organization that now sponsors a wide variety of activities and has been instrumental in addressing a number of engineering graduate student concerns.

　　I take with me the memory of an Engineering and Policy department that once had flourishing programs for full-time undergraduate, masters, and doctoral students.

　　I take with me memories of the 1992 U.S. Presidential debate. Eager to get involved in all the excitement I volunteered to help wherever needed. I remember spending several days in the makeshift debate HQ giving out-of-town reporters directions to the athletic complex. I remember being thrilled to get assigned the job of collecting film from the photographers in the debate hall during the debate. And I remember the disappointment of drawing the shortest straw among the student volunteers and being the one who had to take the film out of the debate hall and down to the dark room five minutes into the debate - with no chance to re-enter the debate hall after I left.

　　I take with me memories of university holidays which never seemed to apply to graduate students. I remember spending many a fall break and President's Day holiday with my fellow grad students in all day meetings brought to us by the computer science department.

　　I take with me memories of exams that seemed designed more to test endurance and perseverance than mastery of the subject matter. I managed to escape taking any classes that featured infamous 24-hour-take-home exams, but remember the suffering of my less fortunate colleagues. And what doctoral student could forget the pain and suffering one must endure to survive the qualifying exams?

　　I take with me the memory of the seven-minute rule, which always seemed to be an acceptable excuse for being ten minutes late for anything on campus, but which doesn't seem to apply anywhere else I go.

　　I take with me the memory of Friday afternoon ACM happy hours, known not for kegs of beer, but rather bowls of rainbow sherbet punch. Over the several years that I attended these happy hours they enjoyed varying degrees of popularity, often proportional to the quality and quantity of the accompanying refreshments - but there was always the rainbow sherbert punch.

　　I take with me memories of purple parking permits, the West Campus shuttle, checking my pendaflex, over-due library books, trying to print from cec, lunches on Delmar, friends who slept in their offices, miniature golf in Lopata Hall, The Greenway Talk, division III basketball, and trying to convince Dean Russel that yet another engineering school rule should be changed.

　　Finally, I would like to conclude, not with a memory, but with some advice. What would a graduation speech be without a little advice, right? Anyway, this advice comes in the form of a verse delivered to the 1977 graduating class of Lake Forest College by Theodore Seuss Geisel, better known to the world as Dr. Seuss - Here's how it goes:

　　My uncle ordered popovers

　　from the restaurant's bill of fare.

　　And when they were served,

　　he regarded them

　　with a penetrating stare . . .

　　Then he spoke great Words of Wisdom

　　as he sat there on that chair:

　　"To eat these things,"

　　said my uncle,

　　"you must excercise great care.

　　You may swallow down what's solid . . .

　　BUT . . .

　　you must spit out the air!"

　　And . . .

　　as you partake of the world's bill of fare,

　　that's darned good advice to follow.

　　Do a lot of spitting out the hot air.

　　And be careful what you swallow.

　　Thank you