问答题Directions: For this part, you are supposed to write a composition of about 100 -120 words based on the following situation. Remember to write it clearly. 假设你是Matt Hand，在报上看到一则招聘广告，正符合你的情况，于是写信求职。广告要点： (1)招聘对象：有计算机工程(engineering)学历的工程师； (2)条件：有两年以上计算机工程工作经验；年龄在22～30岁之间；身体健康。 注意：地址和招聘单位名称可自编。

问答题Now that the Neon 2000 is on the market, her team will use survey and research results to determine which option packages work best for the consumer, and what improvements, if any, need to be made. (Passage Two)

问答题Write an essay of about 250 to 300 words on the topic " Inheritance and Innovation: the Basis of Research" according to the Chinese instructions given below. Write your essay on ANSWER SHEET II clearly and neatly. 传承和创新是学术研究的基石(foundation)。请你结合未来的学术研究工作举例谈谈你对其辩证关系的理解和评价。

问答题One of the most difficult situations that a researcher can encounter is to see or suspect that a colleague has violated the ethical standards of the research community. It is easy to find excuses to do nothing, but someone who has witnessed misconduct has an unmistakable obligation to act. At the most immediate level, misconduct can seriously obstruct or damage one's own research or the research of colleagues. 1) More broadly, even a single case of misconduct can malign scientists and their institutions, which in turn can result in the imposition of counterproductive regulations, and shake public confidence in the integrity of science. To be sure, raising a concern about unethical conduct is rarely an easy thing to do. In some cases, anonymity is possible--but not always. Reprisals by the accused person and by skeptical colleagues have occurred in the past and have had serious consequences. 2) Any allegation of misconduct is a very important charge that needs to be taken seriously. If mishandled, an allegation can gravely damage the person charged, the one who makes the charge, the institutions involved, and science in general. Someone who is confronting a problem involving research ethics usually has more options than are immediately apparent. In most cases the best thing to do is to discuss the situation with a trusted friend or advisor. 3) In universities, faculty advisors, department chairs, and other senior faculty call be invaluable sources of advice in deciding whether to go forward with a complaint. An important consideration is deciding when to put a complaint in writing. Once in writing, universities are obligated to deal with a complaint in a mole formal manner than if it is made verbally. 4) Putting a complaint in writing can have serious consequences for the career of a scientist and should be undertaken only after thorough consideration. The National Science Foundation and Public Health Service require all research institutions that receive public funds to have procedures in place to deal with allegations of unethical practice. 5) These procedures take into account fairness for the accused, protection for the accuser, coordination with funding agencies, and requirements for confidentiality_ and disclosure. In addition, many universities and other research institutions have designated an ombudsman, ethics Officer, or other official who is available to discuss situations involving research ethics. Such discussions are carried out in the strictest confidence whenever possible. Some institutions provide multiple entry points, so that complainants can go to a person with whom they feel comfortable.

问答题Directions: Read the following text carefully and then translate the underlined segments into Chinese. Not many industries are doing well in the recession. But along with discount retailers and pawnbrokers, online-dating sites such as eHarmony, corn and OkCupid. com have seen business look up. There are several theories to explain why. 46． {{U}}It may be that people have more time to devote to their private lives as the economy slows; that uncertain times increase the desire for companionship; or that living alone is expensive, whereas couples can split many of their costs.{{/U}} "People who have been single for years are suddenly focused on finding someone," says Greg Waldorf, the boss of eHarmony, a wholesome marriage-oriented site with more than 20m paying subscribers. 47．{{U}}He favours the companionship-in-hard-times theory: "Going through difficult times with someone special is better than doing it alone. " {{/U}}In a recent survey carried out for his company, 25% of women said stress about the state of the economy made them more inclined to seek a long-term relationship. The company also noticed that the number of visits to its website was higher than average on days when the Dow Jones Industrial Average fell by more than 100 points. At OkCupid, which is aimed at a more casual, youthful crowd, there has been a jump in membership since the financial crisis set in, and an even bigger jump in how often members use the site. Back in September, users were sending 6,000 on-site instant messages a day, says Sam Yagan, OkCupid's boss. Now that number is over 18,000．48．{{U}}OkCupid has the advantage of being free, which has proved popular with people looking for partners for what Mr. Yagan euphemistically calls "cheap entertainment". {{/U}}After all, if you have a girlfriend or a boyfriend, he says, "you can just play Scrabble instead of going out for the evening. " 49．{{U}}But perhaps the boom is the result of neither a nesting instinct, nor a desire to save money.{{/U}} AshleyMadison. corn, a very different type of dating site, is also doing well. Instead of arranging marriages, the subscription-based site arranges affairs-and never before have so many people been looking for a bit on the side. Ashley Madison's boss, Noel Biderman, thinks his site, and others, are prospering for another reason: money problems. "The majority of relationship discord stems from economic troubles," he says. 50．{{U}}Instead of fighting, married people are taking stock of their lives. "They want to do something that makes them{{/U}} feel better about themselves," Mr Biderman says, "and $ 49 is a tiny expenditure for a life- altering affair. "

问答题For this part, you are allowed 30 minutes to write an essay with the little How to Relieve My Pressure. You are required to write at least 120 words, following the outline given below:1．目前大学生面临各种压力，如学习压力、经济压力、就业压力等等；2．请描述你生活中的主要压力；3．你通常是如何缓解这种压力的。 How to Relieve My Pressure

问答题Suppose you are the president of the Students' Union. Write a notice about recruiting new members for the Union. The notice should 1) specify the qualifications, and 2) tell the arrangement of interview. You should write about 100 words on the ANSWER SHEET. {{B}}Do not{{/B}} use your own name.

问答题short story

问答题As a trainer, what exactly motivates you to get up and go to work each morning? Is it money, recognition, affiliation or something else? As a career coach, I often encounter people who've run our of steam professionally or who've become plateaued or pigeonholed in their organizations. Still others have limited self-images of what they can achieve, an image often shaped by a boss or an organization. (1) {{U}}I believe the key m personal effectiveness at work (and to job satisfaction also) is knowing what motivates us to perform at our best It's then up to us to seek opportunities to fulfill these motivations. When a job no longer motivates us, it's time to move on. Jobs have lifecycles, so take stock of where you are and decide if that's where you want to be.{{/U}} Consider the following. Do you enjoy what you do? Nobody's excited about their job all the time, but you need to derive something from the work each day if you're going to perform effectively. And money usually isn't a motivator. We're motivated by the desire to do good, to be effective, to connect with others, to be creative, or to make a difference. What really lights your fire? Have you gotten away from that in your work? You may have, yet not even know it. Does your organization want you to realize your full potential? I believe many organizations lack the competence to develop or even keep good people. I've seen too many cases of individuals sent packing from organizations because they were more talented than their boss could stand, or because they did not always play by the company rules. (2) {{U}}Also, prejudice and chauvinism still exist in the workplace. While we like to think women managers have achieved parity with men, this isn't true. The glass (some say concrete) ceiling still exists in many places. So, if you're a minority, consider how this is affecting your advancement chances. Don't be bitter, but do get busy. It may be time to get out and find something better.{{/U}} Feel plateaued or pigeonholed in your job? Then look for ways to make your job a "learning ground". Explore those informal, "out-of-the-box" ways we can keep growing professionally, even if we're suffering from a career slump, working for a tyrant, or "trapped" in a job that doesn't fully use our talents. For example, find a way to increase responsibility at work (and in so doing, acquire some experience you've been longing to add to your resume). Or, eager to be published? Then, write an article for a professional journal. Time to polish your oratorical skills? Speak at a professional conference or serve on the speaker's committee for your local ASTD Chapter. (3) {{U}}There are always ways to leverage your professional experience, even if mat experience has been unpleasant. I know people who've written articles about sexual harassment based on their own negative experiences, then become stars on the speaking circuit because of it. Others have become consultants, specializing in areas they developed while employed by others.{{/U}}

问答题Analyze the following dialogue with reference to Grice"s Cooperative Principle.(北二外2005研)A: Oh I like this popular song so much How about you?B: I often hear classical music, especially, the symphonies composed by Beethoven His Symphony No. 9 is my favorite.

问答题Directions: Write an essay of about 400 words on your view of the topic.

问答题Please read the following story and make comments in about 500 words.(70 points)Big Two-Hearted River PART I The train went on up the track out of sight, around one of the hills of burnt timber. Nick sat down on the bundle of canvas and bedding the baggage man had pitched out of the door of the baggage car. There was no town, nothing but the rails and the burned-over country. The thirteen saloons that had lined the one street of Seney had not left a trace. The foundations of the Mansion House hotel stuck up above the ground. The stone was chipped and split by the fire, it was all that was left of the town of Seney. Even the surface had been burned off the ground. Nick looked at the burned-over stretch of hillside, where he had expected to find the scattered houses of the town and then walked down the railroad track to the bridge over the river. The river was there. It swirled against the log spires of the bridge. Nick looked down into the clear, brown water, colored from the pebbly bottom, and watched the trout keeping themselves steady in the current with wavering fins. As he watched them they changed their positions again by quick angles, only to hold steady in the fast water again. Nick watched them a long time. He watched them holding themselves with their noses into the current, many trout in deep, fast moving water, slightly distorted as he watched far down through the glassy convex surface of the pool its surface pushing and swelling smooth against the resistance of the log-driven piles of the bridge. At the bottom of the pool were the big trout. Nick did not see them at first. Then he saw them at the bottom of the pool, big trout looking to hold themselves on the gravel bottom in a varying mist of gravel and sand, raised in spurts by the current. Nick looked down into the pool from the bridge. It was a hot day. A kingfisher flew up the stream. It was a long time since Nick had looked into a stream and seen trout. They were very satisfactory. As the shadow of the kingfisher moved up the stream, a big trout shot upstream in a long angle, only his shadow marking the angle, then lost his shadow as he came through the surface of the water, caught the sun, and then, as he went back into the stream under the surface, his shadow seemed to float down the stream with the current unresisting, to his post under the bridge where he tightened facing up into the current. Nick"s heart tightened as the trout moved. He felt all the old feeling. He turned and looked down the stream. It stretched away, pebbly-bottomed with shallows and big boulders and a deep pool as it curved away around the foot of a bluff.… From the time he had gotten down off the train and the baggage man had thrown his pack out of the open car door things had been different. Seney was burned, the country was burned over and changed, but it did not matter. It could not all be burned. He hiked along the road, sweating in the sun, climbing to cross the range of hills that separated the railway from the pine plains.… As he smoked his legs stretched out in front of him, he noticed a grasshopper walk along the ground and up onto his woolen sock. The grasshopper was black. As he had walked along the road, climbing, he had started grasshoppers from with dust. They were all black. They were not the big grasshoppers with yellow and black or red and black wings whirring out from their black wing sheathing as they fly up. These were just ordinary hoppers, but all a sooty black in color. Nick had wondered about them as he walked without really thinking about them. Now, as he watched the black hopper that was nibbling at the wool of his sock with its fourway lip he realized that they had all turned black from living in the burned-over land. He realized that the fire must have come the year before, but the grasshoppers were all black now. He wondered how long they would stay that way. Carefully he reached his hand down and took hold of the hopper by the wings. He turned him up, all his legs walking in the air, and looked at his jointed belly. Yes, it was black too, iridescent where the back and head were dusty. "Go on, hopper," Nick said, speaking out loud for the first time. "Fly away somewhere. He tossed the grasshopper up into the air and watched him sail away to a charcoal stump across the road.… The ground rose, wooded and sandy, to overlook the meadow, the stretch of river and the swamp. Nick dropped his pack and rod case and looked for a level piece of ground. He was very hungry and he wanted to make his camp before he cooked. Between two jack pines, the ground was quite level. He took the ax out of the pack and chopped out two projecting roots. That leveled a piece of ground large enough to sleep on. He smoothed out the sandy soil with his hand and pulled all the sweet fern bushes by their roots. His hands smelled good from the sweet fern. He smoothed the uprooted earth. He did not want anything making lumps under the blankets. When he had the ground smooth, he spread his blankets. One he folded double, next to the ground. The other two he spread on top. With the ax he slit off a bright slab of pine from one of the stumps and split it into pegs for the tent. He wanted them long and solid to hold in the ground. With the tern unpacked and spread on the ground, the pack, leaning against a jack pine, looked much smaller. Nick tied the rope that served the tent for a ridgepole to the trunk of one of the pine trees and pulled the tent up off the ground with the other end of the rope and tied it to the other pine. The tent hung on the rope like a canvas blanket on a clothesline. Nick poked a pole he had cut up under the back peak of the canvas and then made it a tent by pegging out the sides. He pegged the sides out taut and drove the pegs deep, hiring them down into the ground with the flat of the ax until the rope loops were buried and the canvas was drum tight. Across the open mouth of the tent Nick fixed cheesecloth to keep out mosquitoes. He trawled inside under the mosquito bar with various things from the pack to put at the head of the bed under the slant of the canvas. Inside the tent the light came through the brown canvas. It smelled pleasantly of canvas. Already there was something mysterious and homelike. Nick was happy as he crawled inside the tent. He had not been unhappy all day. This was different though. Now things were done. There had been this to do. Now it was done. It had been a hard trip. He was very tired. That was done. He had made his camp. He was settled. Nothing could touch him. It was a good place to camp. He was there, in the good place. He was in his home where he had made it. Now he was hungry. Nick was hungry. He did not believe he had ever been hungrier. He opened and emptied a can at pork and beans and a can of spaghetti into the flying pan. " I"ve got a right to eat this kind of stuff, if I"m willing to carry it, " Nick said. His voice sounded strange in the darkening woods. He did not speak again. Nick drove another big nail and hung up the bucket full of water. He dipped the coffee pot half full, put some more chips under the grill onto the fire and put the pot oil. He could not remember which way he made coffee. He could remember an argument about it with Hopkins, but not which side he had taken. He decided to brine it to a boil. He remembered now that was Hopkins"s way. He had once argued about everything with Hopkins. While he waited for the coffee to boil, he opened a small can of apricots. He liked to open cans. He emptied the can of apricots out into a tin cup. While he watched the coffee on the fire, he drank the juice syrup of the apricots, carefully at first to keep from spilling, then meditatively, sucking the apricots down. They were better than fresh apricots. The coffee boiled as he watched. The lid came up and coffee and grounds ran down the side of the pot. Nick took it off the grill. It was a triumph for Hopkins. He put sugar in the empty apricot cup and poured some of the coffee out to cool. It was too hot to pour and he used his hat to hold the handle of the coffee pot. He would not let it steep in the pot at all. Not the first cup. It should be straight. Hopkins deserved that. Hop was avers, serious coffee drinker. He was the most serious man Nick had ever known. Not heavy, serious. That was a long time ago Hopkins spoke without moving his lips. He had played polo. He made millions of dollars in Texas. He had borrowed carfare to go to Chicago when the wire came that his first big well had come in. He could have wired for money. That would have been too slow. They called Hop"s girl the Blonde Venus. Hop did not mind because she was not his real girl. Hopkins said very confidently that none of them would make fun of his real girl. He was right. Hopkins went away when the telegram came. That was on the Black River. It took eight days for the telegram to reach him. Hopkins gave away his 22-caliber Colt automatic pistol to Nick. He gave his camera to Bill. It was to remember him always by. They were all going fishing again next summer. The Hop Head was rich. He would get a yacht and they would all cruise along the north shore of Lake Superior. He was excited but serious. They said good-bye and all felt bad. It broke up the trip. They never saw Hopkins again. That was a long time ago on the Black River. Nick drank the coffee, the coffee according to Hopkins. The coffee was bitter. Nick laughed. It made a good ending to the story. His mind was starting to work. He knew he could choke it because he was tired enough. He spilled the coffee out of the pot and shook the grounds loose into the fire. He lit a cigarette and went inside the tent. He took off his shoes and trousers, sitting on the blankets, rolled the shoes up inside the trousers for a pillow and got in between the blankets. Out through the front of the tent he watched the glow of the fire when the night wind blew. It was a quiet night. The swamp was perfectly quiet. Nick stretched under the blanket comfortably. A mosquito hummed close to his ear. Nick sat up and lit a match. The mosquito was on the canvas, over his head Nick moved the match quickly up to it. The mosquito made a satisfactory hiss in the flame. The match went out. Nick lay down again under the blanket. He turned on his side and shut his eyes. He was sleepy. He felt sleep coming. He curled up under the blanket and went to sleep.PART II In the morning the sun was up and the tent was starting to get hot. Nick crawled out under the mosquito netting stretched across the mouth of the tent, to look at the morning. The grass was wet on his hands as he came out. The sun was just up over the hill. There was the meadow, the river and the swamp. There were birch trees in the green of the swamp on the other side of the river.The river was clear and smoothly fast in the early morning. Down about two hundred yards were three logs all the way across the stream. They made the water smooth and deep above them. As Nick watched, a mink crossed the river on the logs and went into the swamp. Nick was excited. He was excited by the early morning and the rivet; He was really too hurried to eat breakfast, but he knew he must. He built a little fire and put on the coffee pot. While the water was heating in the pot he took an empty bone and went down over the edge of the high ground to the meadow. The meadow was wet with dew and Nick wanted to catch grasshoppers for bait before the sun dried the grass. He found plenty of good grasshoppers. They were at the base of the grass, stems. Sometimes they clung to a grass stem. They were cold and wet with the dew, and could not jump until the sun warmed them. Nick picked them up, taking only the medium-sized brown ones, and put them into the bottle. He turned over a log and just under the shelter of the edge were several hundred hoppers. It was a grasshopper lodging house. Nick put about fifty of the medium browns into the bottle. While he was picking up the hoppers the others warmed in the sun and commenced to hop away. They flew when they hopped. At first they made one flight and stayed stiff when they landed, as though they were dead. Nick knew that by the time he was through with breakfast they would be as lively as ever. Without dew in the grass it would take him all day to catch a bottle full of good grasshoppers and he would have to crush many of them, slamming at them with his hat. He washed his hands at the stream. He was excited to be near it. Then he walked up to the tent. The hoppers were already jumping stiffly in the grass. In the bottle, warmed by the sun, they were jumping in a mass. Nick put in a pine stick as a cork. It plugged the mouth of the bottle enough, so the hoppers could not get out and left plenty of air passage.… Holding the rod in his right hand he let out line against the pull of the grasshopper in the current. He stripped off line from the reel with his left hand and let it run free. He could see the hopper in the little waves of the current. It went out of sight. There was a tug on the line. Nick pulled against the taut line. It was his first strike. Holding the now living rod across the current, he hauled in the line with his left hand. The rod bent in jerks, the trout pulling against the current. Nick knew it was a small one. He lifted the rod straight up in the air. It bowed with the pull. He saw the trout in the water jerking with his head and body against the shifting tangent of the line in the stream. Nick took the line in his left hand and pulled the trout, thumping tiredly against the current, to the surface. His back was mottled the clear, water-over-gravel color, his side flashing in the sun. The rod under his right arm, Nick stooped, dipping his right hand into the current. He held the trout, never still, with his moist right hand, while he unhooked the barb from his mouth, then dropped him back into the stream. He hung unsteadily in the current, then settled to the bottom beside a stone. Nick reached down his hand to touch him, his arm to the elbow under water. The trout was steady in the moving stream resting on the gravel, beside a stone. As Nick"s fingers touched him, touched his smooth, cool, underwater feeling, he was gone, gone in a shadow across the bottom of the stream. He"s all right, Nick thought. He was only tired.… Now the water deepened up his thighs sharply and coldly. Ahead was the smooth dammed-back flood of water above the logs. The water was smooth and dark; on the left, the lower edge of the meadow; on the right the swamp. Nick leaned back against the current and took a hopper from the bottle. He threaded the hopper on the hook and spat on him for good luck. Then he pulled several yards of line from the reel and tossed the hopper out ahead onto the fast, dark water. It floated down towards the logs, then the weight of the line pulled the bait under the surface. Nick held the rod in his right hand, letting the line run out through his fingers. There was a long tug. Nick struck and the rod came alive and dangerous, bent double, the line tightening, coming out of water, tightening, all in a heavy, dangerous, steady pull. Nick felt the moment when the leader would break if the strain increased deep and the swamp looked solid with cedar trees, their trunks close together, their branches solid. It would not be possible to walk through a swamp like that. The branches grew so low. You would have to keep almost level with the ground to move at all. You could not crash through the branches. That must be why the animals that lived in swamps were built the way they were, Nick thought. He wished he had brought something to read. He felt like reading. He did not feel like going on into the swamp. He looked down the river. A big cedar slanted all the way across the stream. Beyond that the river went into the swamp. Nick did not want to go in there now. He felt a reaction against deep wading with the water deepening up under his armpits, to hook big trout in places impossible to land them. In the swamp the banks were bare, the big cedars came together overhead, the sun did not come through, except in patches; in the fast deep water, in the half-light, the fishing would be tragic. In the swamp fishing was a tragic adventure. Nick did not want it. He didn"t want to go up the stream any further today. He took out his knife, opened it and stuck it in the log. Then he pulled up the sack, reached into it and brought out one of the trout. Holding him near the tail, hard to hold, alive, in his hand, he whacked him against the log. The trout quivered, rigid. Nick laid him on the log in the shade and broke the neck of the other fish the same way. He laid them side-by-side on the log. They were fine trout. Nick cleaned them, slitting them from the vent to the tip of the jaw. All the insides and the gills and tongue came out in one piece. They were both males; long gray-white strips of milt, smooth and clean. All the insides clean and compact, and let the line go.… The leader had broken where the hook was tied to it. Nick took it in his hand. He thought of the trout somewhere on the bottom, holding himself steady over the gravel, far down below the light, under the logs, with the hook in his jaw. Nick knew the trout"s teeth would cut through the snell of the hook. The hook would imbed itself in his jaw. He"d bet the trout was angry. Anything that size would be angry. That was a trout. He had been solidly hooked. Solid as a rock. He felt like a rock, too, before he started off. By God, he was a big one. By God, he was the biggest one I ever heard of. Nick climbed out onto the meadow and stood, water running down his trousers and out of his shoes, his shoes squelchy. He went over and sat on the logs. He did not want to rush his sensations any. He sat on the logs, smoking, drying in the sun, the sun warm on his back, the river shallow ahead entering the woods, curving into the woods, shallows, light glittering, big water-smooth rocks, cedars along the bank and white birches, the logs warm in the sun, smooth to sit on, without bark, gray to the touch; slowly the feeling of disappointment left him. It went away slowly, the feeling of disappointment that came sharply after the thrill that made his shoulders itch. It was all right now. His rod lying out on the logs, Nick tied a new hook on the leader, pulling the gut tight until it crimped into itself in a hard knot.… Ahead the river narrowed and went into a swamp. The river became smooth and coming out all together. Nick took the offal ashore for the minks to find. He washed the trout in the stream. When he held them back up in the water, they looked like live fish. Their color was not gone yet. He washed his hands and dried them on the log. Then he laid the trout on the sack spread out on the log, rolled them up in it, tied the bundle and put it in the landing net. His knife was still standing, blade stuck in the log. He cleaned it on the wood and put it in his pocket. Nick stood up on the log, holding his rod, the landing net hanging heavy, then stepped into the water and splashed ashore. He climbed the bank and cut up into the woods, to ward the high ground. He was going back to camp. He looked back. The river just showed through the trees. There were plenty of days coming when he could fish the swamp.

问答题Directions: For this part, you are supposed to write a composition of about 100-120 words based on the following situation. Remember to write it clearly. 根据提示写一篇延期举行报告会的书面通知。 (1)推迟原因：北京大学计算机科学系教授张清明突然生病不能来校，大夫估计他几天内可康复(recover)； (2)另定时间：8月1日，星期四，上午9点； (3)地址：教学楼大厅； (4)报告内容：计算机科学； (5)出席者：本专业学生必须参加，欢迎其他师生参加。

问答题The stages of a writer"s professional life are marked not by a name on an office door, but by a name in ink. There was the morning when my father came home carrying a stack of Sunday papers because my byline was on page one, and the evening that I persuaded a security guard to hand over all early edition, still warm from the presses, with my first column. But there"s nothing to compare to the day when someone hands over a hardcover book with your name on the cover. I"m just not sure the moment would have had the same grandeur had my work been downloaded instead into an e-reader. Reading is not simply an intellectual pursuit but an emotional and spiritual one. That"s why it survives. There are still millions of people who like the paper version, at least for now. And if that changes—well, what is a book, really? Is it its body, or its soul?

问答题Harvard ranked two in fund-raising last year with $ 595 million.

问答题{{B}}Directions:{{/B}} You are preparing for National Entrance Examination for Postgraduates and are in need of some reference books for English. Write a letter to the sales department of a bookstore to ask for: (1) detailed information about the books you want; (2) methods of payment; (3) time and means of delivery. You should write about 100 words on Answer Sheet 2. Do not sign your name at the end of the letter. Use "Li Hua" instead. You do not need to write the address.

问答题剩男剩女

问答题工资集体合同

问答题Directions: For this part, you are supposed to write a composition in English in 100-120 words based on the following information. Remember to write it clearly. 以“Failure and Success”为题写一篇短文，内容包括： (1)人生中遭遇失败很常见； (2)每个人都渴望成功； (3)失败是走向成功的必经之路。