1 . As a kid growing up in a suburb of London. I loved to go looking for the perfect park bench. Some Sunday mornings, my dad could be persuaded to drive to new parks. We’d have a kick-around with a soccer ball, share a bag of Doritos and check out all the benches in the area, reading the words on them.

The good park bench leaves me in a state, somewhere between nostalgia (怀旧) and eager anticipation. Where once I was excited by the words carved on wood, I now find, as a 10-year-old, that I’m more appreciative of each bench’s quiet stoicism (坦然淡定), the way they are willing to wait out their turn in every weather, remaining available to all-comers. Like a good book or piece of music, a park bench allows for a sense of solitude (独处) and community at the same time, which is crucial to life in a great city.

Part of my obsession with park benches is as spaces where history settles. By planting seeds of curiosity, and making space for reflection, park benches become doors to the past. Maybe that’s the greatest power of the park bench: its capacity encourages the art of observation. A good bench catches us in our quietest, most vulnerable (脆弱的) moments, when we may be open to imagining new narratives and revisiting old ones. Our masks are taken off, hung from the bench’s wrought iron. On other nearby benches, babies are being burped. Glances exchanged. Sandwiches eaten. Newspapers read it .

......

Which aspect of park benches does paragraph 3 focus on?

A．Design.

B．History.

C．Location.

D．Power.

2 . Perhaps you think you could easily add to your happiness with more money. Strange as it may seem, if you're unsatisfied, the issue is not a lack of means to meet your desires but a lack of desires — not that you cannot satisfy your tastes but that you don't have enough tastes.

Real riches consist of well-developed and hearty capacities (能力) to enjoy life. Most people are already swamped (淹没) with things. They eat, wear, go and talk too much. They live in too big a house with too many rooms, yet their house of life is a hut.

Your house of life ought to be a mansion (豪宅) , a royal palace. Every new taste, every additional interest, every fresh enthusiasm adds a room. Here are several rooms your house of life should have.

Art should be a desire for you to develop simply because the world is full of beautiful things. If you only understood how to enjoy them and feed your spirit on them, they would make you as happy as to find plenty of hamburgers and eggs when you're hungry.

Literature, classic literature, is a beautiful, richly furnished room where you might find many an hour of rest and refreshment. To gain that love would go toward making you a rich person, for a rich person is not someone who has a library but who likes a library.

Music like Mozart's and Bach's shouldn't be absent. Real riches are of the spirit. And when you've brought that spirit up to where classical music feeds it and makes you a little drunk, you have increased your thrills and bettered them. And life is a matter of thrills.

Sports, without which you remain poor, mean a lot in life. No matter who you are, you would be more human, and your house of life would be better supported against the bad days, if you could, and did, played a bit.

Whatever rooms you might add to your house of life, the secret of enjoying life is to keep adding.

What would be the best title for the passage?

A．House of Life	B．Secret of Wealth
C．Rest and Refreshment	D．Interest and Enthusiasm

4 . Adults understand what it feels like to be flooded with objects. Why do we often assume that more is more when it comes to kids and their belongings? The good news is that I can help my own kids learn earlier than I did how to live more with less.

I found the pre-holidays a good time to encourage young children to donate less-used things, and it worked. Because of our efforts, our daughter Georgia did decide to donate a large bag of toys to a little girl whose mother was unable to pay for her holiday due to illness. She chose to sell a few larger objects that were less often used when we promised to put the money into her school fund (基金) (our kindergarten daughter is serious about becoming a doctor).

For weeks, I’ve been thinking of bigger, deeper questions: How do we make it a habit for them? And how do we train ourselves to help them live with, need, and use less? Yesterday, I sat with my son, Shepherd, determined to test my own theory on this. I decided to play with him with only one toy for as long as it would keep his interest. I expected that one toy would keep his attention for about five minutes, ten minutes, max. I chose a red rubber ball—simple, universally available. We passed it, he tried to put it in his mouth, he tried bouncing it, rolling it, sitting on it, throwing it. It was totally, completely enough for him. Before I knew it an hour had passed and it was time to move on to lunch.

We both became absorbed in the simplicity of playing together. He had my full attention and I had his. My little experiment to find joy in a single object worked for both of us.

What do the words “more is more” in paragraph 1 probably mean?

A．The more, the better.

B．Enough is enough.

C．More money, more worries.

D．Earn more and spend more.

6 . Sometime in the early 1960s, a significant thing happened in Sydney, Australia. The city discovered its harbor. Then, one after another, Sydney discovered lots of things that were just sort of there — broad parks, superb beaches, and a culturally diverse population. But it is the harbor that makes the city.

Andrew Reynolds, a cheerful fellow in his early 30s, pilots Sydney ferryboats for a living. I spent the whole morning shuttling back and forth across the harbor. After our third run Andrew shut down the engine, and we went our separate ways — he for a lunch break, I to explore the city.

“I’ll miss these old boats,” he said as we parted.

“How do you mean?” I asked.

“Oh, they’re replacing them with catamarans. Catamarans are faster, but they’re not so elegant, and they’re not fun to pilot. But that’s progress, I guess.”

Everywhere in Sydney these days, change and progress are the watchwords (口号), and traditions are increasingly rare. Shirley Fitzgerald, the city’s official historian, told me that in its rush to modernity in the 1970s, Sydney swept aside much of its past, including many of its finest buildings. “Sydney is confused about itself,” she said. “We can’t seem to make up our minds whether we want a modern city or a traditional one. It’s a conflict that we aren’t getting any better at resolving (解决).”

On the other hand, being young and old at the same time has its attractions. I considered this when I met a thoughtful young businessman named Anthony. “Many people say that we lack culture in this country,” he told me. “What people forget is that the Italians, when they came to Australia, brought 2000 years of their culture, the Greeks some 3000 years, and the Chinese more still. We’ve got a foundation built on ancient cultures but with a drive and dynamism of a young country. It’s a pretty hard combination to beat.”

He is right, but I can’t help wishing they would keep those old ferries.

Which statement will the author probably agree with?

A．A city can be young and old at the same time.

B．A city built on ancient cultures is more dynamic.

C．Modernity is usually achieved at the cost of elegance.

D．Compromise should be made between the local and the foreign.

7 . I was about 13 when an uncle gave me a copy of Jostein Gaarder’s Sophie’s World. It was full of ideas that were new to me, so I spent the summer with my head in and out of that book. It spoke to me and brought me into a world of philosophy (哲学).

That love for philosophy lasted until I got to college. Nothing kills the love for philosophy faster than people who think they understand Foucault, Baudrillard, or Confucius better than you — and then try to explain them.

Eric Weiner’s The Socrates Express: In Search of Life Lessons from Dead Philosophers reawakened my love for philosophy. It is not an explanation, but an invitation to think and experience philosophy.

Weiner starts each chapter with a scene on a train ride between cities and then frames each philosopher’s work in the context (背景) of one thing they can help us do better. The end result is a read in which we learn to wonder like Socrates, see like Thoreau, listen like Schopenhauer, and have no regrets like Nietzsche. This, more than a book about understanding philosophy, is a book about learning to use philosophy to improve a life.

He makes philosophical thought an appealing exercise that improves the quality of our experiences, and he does so with plenty of humor. Weiner enters into conversation with some of the most important philosophers in history, and he becomes part of that crowd in the process by decoding (解读) their messages and adding his own interpretation.

The Socrates Express is a fun, sharp book that draws readers in with its apparent simplicity and gradually pulls them in deeper thoughts on desire, loneliness, and aging. The invitation is clear: Weiner wants you to pick up a coffee or tea and sit down with this book. I encourage you to take his offer. It’s worth your time, even if time is something we don’t have a lot of.

What does the author think of Weiner’s book?

A．Objective and plain.

B．Daring and ambitious.

C．Serious and hard to follow.

D．Humorous and straightforward.

8 . I was about 13 when an uncle gave me a copy of Jostein Gaarder’s Sophie’s World. It was full of ideas that were new to me, so I spent the summer with my head in and out of that book. It spoke to me and brought me into a world of philosophy (哲学).

That love for philosophy lasted until I got to college. Nothing kills the love for philosophy faster than people who think they understand Foucault, Baudrillard, or Confucius better than you — and then try to explain them.

Eric Weiner’s The Socrates Express: In Search of Life Lessons from Dead Philosophers reawakened my love for philosophy. It is not an explanation, but an invitation to think and experience philosophy.

Weiner starts each chapter with a scene on a train ride between cities and then frames each philosopher’s work in the context (背景) of one thing they can help us do better. The end result is a read in which we learn to wonder like Socrates, see like Thoreau, listen like Schopenhauer, and have no regrets like Nietzsche. This, more than a book about understanding philosophy, is a book about learning to use philosophy to improve a life.

He makes philosophical thought an appealing exercise that improves the quality of our experiences, and he does so with plenty of humor. Weiner enters into conversation with some of the most important philosophers in history, and he becomes part of that crowd in the process by decoding (解读) their messages and adding his own interpretation.

The Socrates Express is a fun, sharp book that draws readers in with its apparent simplicity and gradually pulls them in deeper thoughts on desire, loneliness, and aging. The invitation is clear: Weiner wants you to pick up a coffee or tea and sit down with this book. I encourage you to take his offer. It’s worth your time, even if time is something we don’t have a lot of.

Why does the author list great philosophers in paragraph 4?

A．To compare Weiner with them.

B．To give examples of great works.

C．To praise their writing skills.

D．To help readers understand Weiner’s book.

9 . My name is Alice. Early last year, I was troubled by an anxiety that crippled ( 削弱 ) my ability to do anything. I felt like a storm cloud hung over me. For almost a year I struggled on, constantly staring at this wall that faced me. My perfectionist tendencies were the main root of this: I wanted to be perfect at whatever I did, which obviously in life is not possible, but it consumed me.

One day, I attended a presentation by wildlife conservationist Grant Brown at my high school. His presentation not only awed and inspired me, but also helped emerge an inner desire to make a difference in the world. I joined a pre-presentation dinner with him and that smaller setting allowed me to slowly build up my courage to speak one-on-one with him—an idea that had seemed completely impossible. This first contact was where my story began.

A month later, Brown invited me to attend the World Youth Wildlife Conference. Looking back, I now see that this would be the first in a series of timely opportunities that my old self would have let pass, but that this new and more confident Alice enthusiastically seized. Shortly after I received his invitation, applications to join the Youth for Nature and the Youth for Planet groups were sent around through my high school. I decided to commit to completing the applications, and soon I was a part of a growing global team of young people working to protect nature. Each of these new steps continued to grow my confidence.

I am writing this just six months since my journey began and I’ve realised that my biggest obstacle ( 障碍 ) this whole time was myself. It was that voice in the back of my head telling me that one phrase that has stopped so many people from reaching their potential: I can’t. They say good things come to those who wait; I say: grab every opportunity with everything you have and be impatient. After all, nature does not require our patience, but our action.

1. What was the main cause for Alice’s anxiety?

A．Her inability to act her age.	B．Her habit of consumption.
C．Her desire to be perfect.	D．Her lack of inspiration.

2. How did Grant Brown’s presentation influence Alice?

A．She decided to do something for nature.

B．She tasted the sweetness of friendship.

C．She learned about the harm of desire.

D．She built up her courage to speak up.

10 .

Every summer he came to our village on his cycle. The cycle was full of coconuts and on the handle was his small red money purse and the machete that he used to cut the coconuts. He always wore a blue and black checkered lungi and was known for his toothless smile that tended to turn into a slight laugh.

He often announced the arrival of summer by standing under our village’s Gulmohar tree. During the first touch of summer, red flowers fell on the ground and welcomed him to our village; soon the red flowers turned into long sword-like fruits which hung above his head as he cut the coconuts.

He never ate anything except paan (a kind of leaf), which he always could be seen chewing, and he just sat under the tree until someone approached him. Then, he would choose the best coconut, and with expert skill, carve it so that the person could drink the satisfying liquid.

For me he was an artist who knew how to carve the green coconut into an oasis (绿洲) of relief. He was the coconut whisperer, who knew which one had more water. Nobody ever talked about him, for he was of no significance to the busy people of our village. His existence will forever be tied to the shadow of the Gulmohar tree.

Nowadays, he doesn’t do much business. Kids no longer care for coconut water; they want soft drinks. I know his weak body will fail him in the coming years. He will not visit our village, and with him, all my memories of summer will disappear. No one will miss him apart from the Gulmohar tree, his only friend.

My friends and I have stayed in the same village our whole life. Now, in our mid-thirties, we don’t have time to talk about our childhood and the lite beyond the chains of society.

I’ve made up my mind. Tomorrow I will talk with him. I will listen to him and preserve him in my memory. I will tell him how important he was for me, how he defined summer for me, and, during every summer, how he nurtured (滋养) me with the coconut water, which was filled with his love. I will take in his smile one last time—a remembrance of my childhood innocence. I will hug him until my tears mix with his.

1. What message does the author want to express?

A．Pass on what is yours to the next generation.

B．Free yourself from the pressure of society.

C．Enjoy the simple things in your busy life.

D．Appreciate something before it’s gone.