新视野大学英语2全部课文原文.doc

Four short words sum up what has lifted most successful individuals above the crowd: a little bit more.-author-date新视野大学英语2全部课文原文新视野大学英语2全部课文原文Unit1 Americans believe no one stands still. If you are not moving ahead, you are falling behind. This attitude results in a nation of people committed to researching, experimenting and exploring. Time is one of the two elements that Americans save carefully, the other being labor.     "We are slaves to nothing but the clock,” it has been said. Time is treated as if it were something almost real. We budget it, save it, waste it, steal it, kill it, cut it, account for it; we also charge for it. It is a precious resource. Many people have a rather acute sense of the shortness of each lifetime. Once the sandshave run out of a persons hourglass, they cannot be replaced. We want every minute to count.     A foreigners first impression of the U.S. is likely to be that everyone is in a rush - often under pressure. City people always appear to be hurrying to get where they are going, restlessly seeking attention in a store, or elbowing others as they try to complete their shopping. Racing through daytime meals is part of the pace of life in this country. Working time is considered precious. Others in public eating-places are waiting for you to finish so they, too, can be served and get back to work within the time allowed. You also find drivers will be abrupt and people will push past you. You will miss smiles, brief conversations, and small exchanges with strangers. Dont take it personally. This is because people value time highly, and they resent someone else “wasting” it beyond a certain appropriate point.     Many new arrivals to the States will miss the opening exchanges of a business call, for example. They will miss the ritual interaction that goes with a welcoming cup of tea or coffee that may be a convention in their own country. They may miss leisurely business chats in a restaurant or coffee house.Normally, Americans do not assess their visitors in such relaxed surroundings over extended small talk; much less do they take them out for dinner, or for around on the golf course while they develop a sense of trust. Since we generally assess and probe professionally rather than socially, we start talking business very quickly. Time is, therefore, always ticking in our inner ear.     Consequently, we work hard at the task of saving time. We produce a steady flow of labor-saving devices; we communicate rapidly through faxes, phone calls or emails rather than through personal contacts, which though pleasant, take longer - especially given our traffic-filled streets. We, therefore, save most personal visiting for after-work hours or for social weekend gatherings.     To us the impersonality of electronic communication has little or no relation to the significance of the matter at hand. In some countries no major business is conducted without eye contact, requiring face-to-face conversation. In America, too, a final agreement will normally be signed in person. However, people are meeting increasingly on television screens, conducting “ teleconferences ” to settle problems not only in this country but also - by satellite - internationally.     The U. S. is definitely a telephone country. Almost everyone uses the telephone to conduct business, to chat with friends, to make or break social appointments, to say “Thank you,” to shop and to obtain all kinds of information. Telephones save the feet and endless amounts of time. This is due partly tothe fact that the telephone service is superb here, whereas the postal service is less efficient.     Some new arrivals will come from cultures where it is considered impolite to work too quickly. Unless a certain amount of time is allowed to elapse, it seems in their eyes as if the task being considered were insignificant, not worthy of proper respect. Assignments are, consequently, felt to be given added weight by the passage of time. In the U. S., however, it is taken as a sign of skillfulness or being competent to solve a problem, or fulfill a job successfully, with speed.Usually, the more important a task is, the more capital, energy, and attention will be poured into it in order to “get it moving.” Unit2 Learning the Olympic Standard for Love     Nikolai Petrovich Anikin was not half as intimidating as I had imagined he would be. No, this surely was not the ex-Soviet coach my father had shipped me out to meet.      But Nikolai he was, Petrovich and all. He invited me inside and sat down on the couch, patting the blanket next to him to get me to sit next to him. I was so nervous in his presence.     "You are young," he began in his Russian-style English. "If you like to try for Olympic Games, I guess you will be able to do this. Nagano Olympics too soon for you, but for 2002 in Salt Lake City, you could be ready."     "Yes, why not?" he replied to the shocked look on my face. I was a promising amateur skier, but by no means the top skier in the country. "Of course, there will be many hard training sessions, and you will cry, but you will improve."     To be sure, there were countless training sessions full of pain and more than a few tears, but in the five years that followed I could always count on being encouraged by Nikolai's amusing stories and sense of humor.     "My friends, they go in the movies, they go in the dance, they go out with girls," he would start. "But I," he would continue, lowering his voice, "I am practice, practice, practice in the stadium. And by the next year, I had cut 1-1/2 minutes off my time in the 15-kilometer race!     "My friends asked me, 'Nikolai, how did you do it?' And I replied, 'You go in the movies, you go in the dance, you go out with girls, but I am practice, practice, practice.' "     Here the story usually ended, but on one occasion, which we later learned was his 25th wedding anniversary, he stood proudly in a worn woolen sweater and smiled and whispered, "And I tell you, I am 26 years old before I ever kiss a girl! She was the woman I later marry."     Romantic and otherwise, Nikolai knew love. His consistent good humor, quiet gratitude, perceptivity, and sincerity set an Olympic standard for love that I continue to reach for, even though my skiing days are over.     Still, he never babied me. One February day I had a massive headache and felt quite fatigued. I came upon him in a clearing, and after approximately 15 minutes of striding into the cold breeze over the white powder to catch him, I fussed, "Oh, Nikolai, I feel like I am going to die."     "When you are a hundred years old, everybody dies," he said, indifferent to my pain. "But now," he continued firmly. "Now must be ski, ski, ski."     And, on skis, I did what he said. On other matters, though, I was rebellious. Once, he packed 10 of us into a Finnish bachelor's tiny home for a low-budget ski camp. We awoke the first morning to find Nikolai making breakfast and then made quick work with our spoons while sitting on makeshift chairs around a tiny card table. When we were finished, Nikolai stacked the sticky bowls in front of my sole female teammate and me, asserting, "Now, girls do dishes!"     I threw my napkin on the floor and swore at him, "Ask the damn boys! This is unfair." He never asked this of me again, nor did he take much notice of my outburst. He saved his passion for skiing.     When coaching, he would sing out his instructions keeping rhythm with our stride: "Yes, yes, one-two-three, one-two-three." A dear lady friend of my grandfather, after viewing a copy of a video of me training with Nikolai, asked, "Does he also teach dance?"     In training, I worked without rest to correct mistakes that Nikolai pointed out and I asked after each pass if it was better.     "Yes, it's OK. But the faster knee down, the better."     "But is it fast enough?" I'd persist.     Finally he would frown and say, "Billion times you make motionthen be perfect," reminding me in an I've-told-you-a-billion-times tone, "You must be patient."     Nikolai's patience and my hard work earned me a fourth-place national ranking heading into the pre-Olympic season, but then I missed the cut for the 2002 Olympics.     Last summer, I returned to visit Nikolai. He made me tea. and did the dishes! We talked while sitting on his couch. Missing the Olympic Team the previous year had made me pause and reflect on what I had gainednot the least of which was a quiet, indissoluble bond with a short man in a tropical shirt.     Nikolai taught me to have the courage, heart, and discipline to persist, even if it takes a billion tries. He taught me to be thankful in advance for a century of life on earth, and to remind myself every day that despite the challenges at hand, "Now must be love, love, love.Unit 3Marriage Across the NationsGail and I imagined a quiet wedding. During our two years together we had experienced the usual ups and downs of a couple learning to know, understand, and respect each other. But through it all we had honestly confronted the weaknesses and strengths of each other's characters.Our racial and cultural differences enhanced our relationship and taught us a great deal about tolerance, compromise, and being open with each other. Gail sometimes wondered why I and other blacks were so involved with the racial issue, and I was surprised that she seemed to forget the subtler forms of racial hatred in American society.Gail and I had no illusions about what the future held for us as a married, mixed couple in America. The continual source of our strength was our mutual trust and respect.We wanted to avoid the mistake made by many couples of marrying for the wrong reasons, and only finding out ten, twenty, or thirty years later that they were incompatible, that they hardly took the time to know each other, that they overlooked serious personality conflicts in the expectation that marriage was an automatic way to make everything work out right. That point was emphasized by the fact that Gail's parents, after thirty-five years of marriage, were going through a bitter and painful divorce, which had destroyed Gail and for a time had a negative effect on our budding relationship.When Gail spread the news of our wedding plans to her family she met with some resistance. Her mother, Deborah, all along had been supportive of our relationship, and even joked about when we were going to get married so she could have grandchildren. Instead of congratulations upon hearing our news, Deborah counseled Gail to be really sure she was doing the right thing."So it was all right for me to date him, but it's wrong for me to marry him. Is his color the problem, Mom?" Gail subsequently told me she had asked her mother."To start with I must admit that at first I harbored reservations about a mixed marriage, prejudices you might even call them. But when I met Mark I found him a charming and intelligent young guy. Any mother would be proud to have him for a son-in-law. So, color has nothing to do with it. Yes, my friends talk. Some even express shock at what you're doing. But they live in a different world. So you see, Mark's color is not the problem. My biggest worry is that you may be marrying Mark for the same wrong reasons that I married your father. When we met I saw him as my beloved, intelligent, charming, and caring. It was all so new, all so exciting, and we both thought, on the surface at least, that ours was an ideal marriage with every indication that it would last forever. I realized only later that I didn't know my beloved, your father, very well when we married.""But Mark and I have been together more than two years," Gail railed. "We've been through so much together. We've seen each other at our worst many times. I'm sure that time will only confirm what we feel deeply about each other.""You may be right. But I still think that waiting won't hurt. You're only twenty-five."Gail's father, David, whom I had not yet met personally, approached our decision with a father-knows-best attitude. He basically asked the same questions as Gail's mother: "Why the haste? Who is this Mark? What's his citizenship status?" And when he learned of my problems with the Citizenship department, he immediately suspected that I was marrying his daughter in order to remain in the United States."But Dad, that's harsh," Gail said."Then why the rush? Buy time, buy time," he remarked repeatedly."Mark has had problems with citizenship before and has always taken care of them himself," Gail defended." In fact, he made it very clear when we were discussing marriage that if I had any doubts about anything, I should not hesitate to cancel our plans."Her father proceeded to quote statistics showing that mixed couples had higher divorce rates than couples of the same race and gave examples of mixed couples he had counseled who were having marital difficulties."Have you thought about the hardships your children would go through?" he asked."Dad, are you a racist?""No, of course not. But you have to be realistic.""Maybe our children will have some problems, but whose children don't? But one thing they'll always have: our love and devotion.""That's idealistic. People can be very cruel toward children from mixed marriages.""Dad, we'll worry about that when the time comes. If we had to resolve all doubt before we acted, very little would ever get done.""Remember, it's never too late to change your mind."Unti4A Test of True Love      Six minutes to six, said the digital clock over the information desk in Grand Central Station. John Blandford, a tall young army officer, focused his eyesight on the clock to note the exact time. In six minutes he would see the woman who had filled a special place in his life for the past thirteen months, a woman he had never seen, yet whose written words had been with him and had given him strength without fail.    Soon after he volunteered for military service, he had received a book from this woman. A letter, which wished him courage and safety, came with the book. He discovered that many of his friends, also in the army, had received the identical book from the woman, Hollis Meynell. And while they all got strength from it, and appreciated her support of their cause, John Blandford was the only person to write Ms. Meynell back. On the day of his departure, to a destination overseas where he would fight in the war, he received her reply. Aboard the cargo ship that was taking him into enemy territory, he stood on the deck and read her letter to him again and again.     For thirteen months, she had faithfully written to him. When his letters did not arrive, she wrote anyway,