六年級上冊英語手抄報：讀書之樂
Reading is a pleasure of the mind, which means that it is a little like a sport: your eagerness and knowledge and quickness make you a good reader. Reading is fun, not because the writer is telling you something, but because it makes your mind work. Your own imagination works along with the author's or even goes beyond his. Your experience, compared with his, brings you to the same or different conclusions, and your ideas develop as you understand his.
Every book stands by itself, like a one-family house, but books in a library are like houses in a city. Although they are separate, together they all add up to something; they are connected with each other and with other cities. The same ideas, or related ones, turn up in different places; the human problems that repeat themselves in life repeat themselves in literature, but with different solutions according to different writings at different times.
英語手抄報圖片
Reading can only be fun if you expect it to be. If you concentrate on books somebody tells you "ought" to read, you probably won't have fun. But if you put down a book you don't like and try another till you find one that means something to you, and then relax with it, you will almost certainly have a good time--and if you become as a result of reading, better, wiser, kinder, or more gentle, you won't have suffered during the process.
讀書是愉悅心智之事。在這一點上它與運動頗為相似:一個優秀的讀者必須要有熱情、有知識、有速度。讀書之樂并非在于作者要告訴你什么，而在于它促使你思考。你跟隨作者一起想像，有時你的想象甚至會超越作者的。把自己的體驗與作者的相互比較，你會得出相同或者不同的結論。在理解作者想法的同時，也形成了自己的觀點。
每一本書都自成體系，就像一家一戶的住宅，而圖書館里的藏書好比城市里千家萬戶的居所。盡管它們都相互獨立，但只有相互結合才有意義。家家戶戶彼此相連，城市與城市彼此相依。相同或相似的思想在不同地方涌現。人類生活中反復的問題也在文學中不斷重現，但因時代與作品的差異，答案也各不相同。
如果你希望的話，讀書也能充滿樂趣。倘若你只讀那些別人告訴你該讀之書，那么你不太可能有樂趣可言。但如果你放下你不喜歡的書，試著閱讀另外一本，直到你找到自己中意的，然后輕輕松松的讀下去，差不多一定會樂在其中。而且，當你通過閱讀變得更加優秀，更加善良，更加文雅時，閱讀便不再是一種折磨。
六年級上冊英語手抄報：When the Moon Follows Me
Each of my sons made the discovery early. We would be riding in the car at night, and a little voice would call out from the back seat, “Hey, the moon is following us!” I would explain that the moon was not actually gliding along with our car. There would be another period of critical observation and the final verdict, delivered more quietly this time: “But it really is moving. I can see it.”
I thought of that one evening as I was driving. The moon, one day short of fullness, rode with me, first gliding smoothly, then bouncing over the bumpy stretches, now on my right, then straight ahead, the silver light washing over dry grasses in open fields, streaking along through black branches, finally disappearing as the road wound its way through the hills.
When I crested the hill in the village, there it was again —— grown suddenly immense, ripe, flooding the town with a sprawling light so magical I began to understand why it is said to inspire “looniness.” I could hardly wait to get back home to show the boys.
Robert was in the bathtub, so I grabbed John. “ Close your eyes and come see what followed me home,” I said, hoping to increase the dramatic impact. I led him out into the night. “Okay. Open! Isn’t it beautiful?”
John blinked a few times and looked at me as if I might, indeed, be loony. “Mom, it’s just the moon. Is this the surprise?” I suppose he was hoping for a puppy.
I should have realized that, being only ten, he was probably too young to know how much we sometimes need the magic and romance of moonlight——a light that is nothing like the harsh glare of the sun that it reflects. Moonlight softens our faults; all shabbiness dissolves into shadow. It erases the myriad details that crowd and rush us in the sunlight, leaving only sharp outlines and highlights and broad brushstrokes——the fundamental shape of things.
Often in the soothing, restorative glow we stare transfixed, bouncing our ambitions and hopes and plans off this great reflector. We dream our dreams; we examine the structure of our lives; we make considered decisions. In a hectic, confusing world, it helps to step out into a quiet, clear swath of moonlight, to seek out the fundamentals and eschew the incidentals.
The night after I showed John the moon, he burst breathlessly through the door, calling, “Mom, come out for a minute!” This time, he led me, coatless and shivering. The driveway gravel crunched underneath our sneakers. From somewhere in the woods beyond the pond, the plaintive calls of geese honked and died away.
Past the row of pine trees that line the road, the sky opened up with the full moon on it, suspended so precariously close that it might come hurtling toward us—— incandescent, even larger and more breathtaking than the night before, climbing its motionless climb over the molten silver of our pond. Even a ten-year-old could see this wasn’t just the moon. This was The Moon.
When I turned around, John was grinning, expectant, studying my face intently to see if he had pleased me. He had. I knew that now the moon was following him too.
我的兩個兒子各自都在很小的時候就有了那驚人的發現。每當我們驅車夜行的時候,后座上總會傳來稚嫩驚奇的聲音: “嘿,瞧!月亮實際上并沒有跟在我們的汽車后面滑行。發出驚嘆的孩子往往審視良久,終于得出定論,再一次用較冷靜的口吻說: “它確實在動的嘛,我看得見的。”
一天晚上，在驅車回家的途中，我想起了這件事兒。再過一天就要盈滿的月亮隨我一路同行;它先是平穩地滑行，繼而又在崎嶇的山路上躍動，忽而在我右邊，忽而又跑到我的前頭。銀色的月光潑灑在曠野的枯草上，沿著一路黑黝黝的枝叢投下斑駁的光點，最后，當車道在山間繞了個彎，它便消失得無影無蹤。
當我的車開上村子里的小山頂時，月亮又出現了——突然變得碩大、飽滿;神奇的銀輝充盈四野，整個城鎮都被淹沒在溶溶的月色中。我這才開始明白，為什么人們會說月兒能激發起“瘋狂”。我急不可待地趕回家，想讓孩子們出來看看。
羅伯特正在洗澡;于是我一把拉起約翰，說：“閉上眼睛，來看看什么東西隨我回家了。”希望這樣能增強戲劇性的效果。我牽著他走到戶外的夜色中。 “行了，睜開眼睛!瞧，多美啊!”
約翰眨巴眨巴雙眼，盯著我看，仿佛我真的發瘋了一樣。“媽，不就是月亮嘛。這有什么稀奇的?”我猜他希望我帶了只小狗回來。
我本應該意識到這一點：他才十歲，也許還太小，弄不清我們有時是何等需要月光的魅力和浪漫，這種光和它所反射的太陽那耀眼的光芒是多么大相徑庭。月光淡化了我們的各種缺點，所有的卑微都化解為依稀朦朧的陰影。它抹去了在陽光下充塞于我們周圍、壓迫著我們的無數細微的事物，只留下輪廓鮮明的剪影、最精彩的場面和粗線條的繪畫——萬物的基本形狀。
常常，在那令人屏神靜氣的光華中，我們注目凝視;這時，我們的雄心壯志、美好希望和宏偉藍圖便會從那了不起的反射物上躍然而出。我們做著五光十色的夢，考察我們的生活結構，作出深思熟慮的決定。在一個喧囂、混亂的世界上，走進一片寧靜、清新的月光，去尋循事物的根本，避開不期而至的變故，那可真是大有裨益。
就在我讓約翰看月亮的第二天晚上，他氣喘喘地一頭闖進屋來，喊道：“媽，快出來一會兒。”這一次是他牽著我。當時我沒穿外衣，不由得一陣哆嗦。車道上的礫石被我們的旅游鞋踩得嘎嘎作響。從水塘彼岸的樹林里不知什么地方傳來幾聲鵝的哀鳴，轉而又悠然消失。
走過路邊那排松樹，天空豁然開朗，一輪滿月晃晃悠悠地懸浮在上面，離我們那么近，仿佛就要掉下來撞到我們身上。它光華照人，比前一天晚上還大，更令人心馳神往，在熔銀般的水塘上空悄悄地爬升。就連十歲的孩童也能看出，這不僅僅是個月亮。這是個大寫的月亮。
我轉過身，只見約翰正咧著嘴笑，滿臉期盼的神情;他熱切的目光想從我的臉上探明他是否博得了我的歡心。他確實博得了我的歡心。我意識到現在月兒也正在隨他同行。