英文優(yōu)美哲理文章

　　孤燥的英文字母在作家的編織下，也能變成一片優(yōu)美的哲理文章。不信，你看。下面是學(xué)習(xí)啦小編為你整理的關(guān)于英文優(yōu)美哲理文章，希望對你有用!

　　關(guān)于英文優(yōu)美哲理文章1

　　Once upon a time a psychology professor walked around on a stage while teaching stress management principles to an auditorium filled with students.

　　曾經(jīng)，有一位心理學(xué)教授在講臺上來回走著，向滿席的學(xué)生傳授壓力管理原則。

　　As she raised a glass of water, with a smile on her face, the professor asked, “How heavy is this glass of water I’m holding?”

　　當(dāng)她舉起一杯水，笑著問：“我舉著的這杯水有多重?”

　　Students shouted out answers ranging from eight ounces to a couple pounds.

　　從八盎司到幾磅，學(xué)生們大聲地喊出答案。

　　She replied, “From my perspective, the absolute weight of this glass doesn’t matter. In each case, the weight of the glass doesn’t change, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it feels to me.”

　　她回答道：“在我看來，這杯水的絕對重量不重要。在各種情況里，這杯水的重量都沒變，但是我舉得越久，我就覺得越重。”

　　As the class shook their heads in agreement, she continued, “Your stresses and worries in life are very much like this glass of water.”

　　當(dāng)全班晃頭表示同意時，她繼續(xù)說道：“你們在生活中的壓力和擔(dān)憂就非常像這杯水。”

　　It’s important to remember to let go of your stresses and worries. No matter what happens during the day, as early in the evening as you can, put all your burdens down.

　　記得放開你的壓力和擔(dān)憂是非常重要的。不管那天發(fā)生了什么，到了傍晚，你應(yīng)該盡快放下你所有的重擔(dān)。

　　如果你仍能感覺到昨天壓力的重量，這是一記重要的指示，告訴你是時候把杯子放下了。

　　關(guān)于英文優(yōu)美哲理文章2

　　The first time I ran, like really ran, was during middle school gym class. It took me 11 minutes and 47 seconds to finish a mile. I've been running ever since.

　　我第一次跑步，那種真正的跑步，是在中學(xué)體育課的時候。我花了11分47秒跑完了1英里。自那以后，我一直在跑步。

　　Running is the kind of thing where you put in the time and expect to see results, and let me be the first to tell you: It is supremely discouraging when you don't. It's discouraging when you run a five-mile race with your entire family and come in a solid 15 minutes behind everyone else, and it's discouraging when that time is no faster or slower than your five-mile time five years ago.

　　跑步是一種你會投入時間并期待成效的運動。讓我做第一個告訴你這個的人：你沒有做到的時候，你會剛到非常沮喪。當(dāng)你和所有家人一起來一場5英里賽跑卻落后了每個人15分鐘的時候，是十分讓人沮喪的;當(dāng)你跑完5英里的時間并沒有比5年前更快或更慢的時候，也是十分讓人沮喪的。

　　And yet, my alarm is already set for 6 a.m. tomorrow, even though it's probably going to be rainy and definitely going to be cold and even though most of the time, I really hate running.

　　但是，我已經(jīng)把明天的鬧鐘設(shè)置為早晨6點鐘了，哪怕可能會下雨且一定會變冷;哪怕大多數(shù)時間，我真的討厭跑步。

　　Don't ask me why. All I know is this: As much as I hate running, I love being a runner.

　　不要問我原因。我所知道的一切就是：我喜歡成為一名奔跑者和我討厭跑步的程度相同。

　　There's some kind of camaraderie between people who spend more money each year on running shoes than on all their other shoes combined, and there's some fundamental similarity between people who can cross 10 miles without pausing.

　　比起購買其他所有的鞋子，每年花更多的錢買跑鞋的人們之間有著某種友誼;那些不用暫停就能跑完10英里的人們之間也有著根本的相似性。

　　On days that I run, I exert myself purely for exertion's sake. If you run too, you get why.

　　在我跑步的日子里，我只不過為了努力而努力。如果你也跑步，你會懂的。

　　When you're a runner, your people are the girls with hair elastics on their wrists and the boys with shorts shorter than yours. They might be better, faster or stronger than you, but you belong with them.

　　當(dāng)你做奔跑者的時候，你的同伴會是那些手腕上有用來扎頭發(fā)的橡皮筋的女孩子們以及那些穿著比你褲子還短的短褲的男孩子們。他們也許比你更好、更快或者更強壯，但你和他們是一起的。

　　It took me almost 10 years of plodding along at an 11-minute mile before I realized that I could call myself a runner, no matter how slow I go or how many races I lose.

　　我花了將近10年時間才做到在11分鐘內(nèi)跑完1英里，后來我才意識到，我可以稱自己為一名奔跑者，無論我跑得多慢、無論我輸?shù)袅藥讏霰荣悺?/p>

　　I've laced up my shoes at least once a week since the first day I stepped foot on a track in middle school. Some weeks it's every day, some weeks it's not. Some days, I'll barely go more than a mile, and some days, I'll walk more than I jog. I may not have medals, but I have fresh air, time alone, and creaky knees and tight quads.

　　自從我在中學(xué)踏上跑道的第一天起，我至少每周會束緊鞋帶跑一次步。有些時候我那周的每天都綁緊鞋帶去跑步，有些時候不是。有些日子里，我很少跑超過1英里的距離;有些日子里，我散步的次數(shù)會比慢跑多。我可能沒有獎?wù)?，但是我能呼吸新鮮空氣、擁有獨處的時間并有吱吱作響的膝蓋和結(jié)實的股四頭肌。

　　For me, that's enough. I run, so I am a runner.

　　對我來說，那就足夠了。我跑步，所以我是一名奔跑者。

　　關(guān)于英文優(yōu)美哲理文章3

　　The gas station nearest my house happens to face a strip club. It is apparently a very successful strip club, as they could afford to install a LCD screen on their roof that might be visible from the Space Station. It's certainly visible from the gas station. At some point my eyes will drift up while pumping gas, and there will be a one-story image of a young woman in some stage of near-undress.

　　離我家最近的加油站對面碰巧有一家脫衣舞夜總會。這家夜總的屋頂裝了一個巨大的LED屏幕，說不定在太空上都看得見。能夠支付這樣的費用，看來經(jīng)營得非常成功。不用說，在加油站也能看見那塊屏幕。在加油的時候，我會不經(jīng)意地往上看，一層樓高的屏幕上顯示著一個幾乎一絲不掛的少女。

　　As I was getting some gas this morning, I wondered for the first time what a woman pumping gas thought when she looked at that screen. Though it would depend on the woman, I thought. A woman who had once been an exotic dancer herself would certainly look at that image differently than a Catholic nun.

　　今天早上，我又來到這里加油，腦海中突然有一個問題揮之不去：一個女人來加油的時候看到那塊屏幕會有什么想法呢?我覺得那要看她是個怎樣的人。曾經(jīng)當(dāng)過脫衣舞者的女人和天主教的修女肯定會對那個圖像有不同的看法。

　　The image would look different to each of us. And when I say look different, I mean we would be seeing what amounts to a different image. For while the young woman's pose and attire that I see are identical to the pose and attire that every other man, woman, and child sees, the story that image tells me is told uniquely by me, by my own ideas about women and advertising and maybe even gas stations.

　　那張圖像對每個人來說都是不一樣的，這個不一樣是指我們會產(chǎn)生不一樣的想法。雖然那個少女的姿勢打扮在每一個男人、女人、小孩眼中都是一樣的，但是我在那圖像中捕捉到的故事是獨一無二的，是由我自身對女人、廣告、甚至是加油站的想法創(chuàng)造的。

　　The image is nothing; the story is everything. Good to remember if you're a writer. Writers don't report the facts. The fact that there is a strip club with a giant LCD screen blazing near-nudity for all to see means nothing in reality. All that ever matters is what a person believes when they look upon it. What a person believes is the terrain of the storyteller.

　　圖像本身什么都不是，故事才是一切。如果你是個作家，你會知道作家并不是描寫現(xiàn)實。那兒有一家脫衣舞夜總會，屋頂上有一塊巨大的LED屏幕，屏幕上顯示著幾近裸體的少女，這是現(xiàn)實，沒有意義的現(xiàn)實。真正有意義的是人看到這個景象時萌生的想法，人的思想是創(chuàng)作故事的土壤。

　　And by the way, it is the only terrain of the storyteller. Storytellers, whether they are conscious of it or not, wish to alter reality. We are not so interested in changing the image that flashes on the great LCD screen of the world. Mostly that's beyond our control. We could march, or protest, or fill out petitions to get the screen changed, but it's faster, ultimately, to tell ourselves a story about what we see there.

　　而且，思想是創(chuàng)作故事的唯一土壤。講故事的人會有意無意地想去改變現(xiàn)實。我們不是想把現(xiàn)實中大屏幕上惹眼的圖像換掉，大多數(shù)情況下我們都是有心無力。我們當(dāng)然可以游行示威，寫信請愿把那屏幕換掉，但說到底，更快捷的辦法是給自己講個跟眼前的事物有關(guān)的故事。

　　I sometimes forget I have to power to change that story. My mind drifts as idly from thought to thought as my eyes drift from gas pump to pinup. What occurs in this exchange between the world I look upon and the story I tell can happen so fast, can be so habitual, that I can lose track of who is telling the story I am hearing. The moment I remember, the moment I see my mind as a blank page on which to write my life, I am the author once more, and my life is mine again.

　　有時候我會忘記自己有改變故事的能力。我的視線四處游動，從汽油管飄忽到半裸少女，我的思維也跟著漫不經(jīng)心地跳躍。把眼前的事實創(chuàng)作成的自己故事，這就像我的習(xí)慣一樣，一眨眼的功夫，我已經(jīng)分不清我到底是在創(chuàng)作故事，還是成為了故事的主人公。等我回過神來的時候，等我空白的腦海重新回想起自己生活的時候，我又重新成為故事的作者，重新回到了自己的生活中。