问答题The relation of linguistics to language teaching and learning. (武汉大学2006研)

问答题白天与夜间一样的安闲；一切人物或动或静，都有自得之趣；嫩暖的阳光或者轻淡的云影覆盖在场上，到夜呢，明耀的星月或者徐缓的凉风看守着整夜，在这境界这时间唯一的足以感动心情的就是秋虫儿们的合奏。它们高、低、宏、细、疾、徐、作、歇，仿佛曾经过乐师的精心训练，所以这样的无可批评、踌躇满志，其实它们每一个都是神妙的乐师；众妙毕集，各抒灵趣，那有不成人间绝响的呢。

问答题Directions: You are supposed to write a letter to the editor of a journal in your field, thanking him for suggestions and advice for your paper submitted, and informing him of the modifications and improvements you have made. 1. The letter should begin with "Dear Editor". 2. You should write about 150 words on the ANSWER SHEET. 3. Do not sign your own name at the end of the letter. Use "Li Ming" instead. 4. Do not write the address.

问答题A.Studythefollowingpicturecarefullyandwriteanessayofabout200words.B.Youressayshouldmeettherequirementsbelow:(1)describethepictureandinterpretitsmeaning.(2)pointouttheproblemandgiveyourcomments.

问答题必须坚持节约资源和保护环境的基本国策，着力推进绿色发展、循环发展、低碳发展。

问答题back translation

问答题On the Road He was not interested in the snow. When he got off the freight, one early evening during the depression, Sargeant never even noticed the snow. But he must have felt it seeping down his neck, cold, wet, sopping in his shoes. But if you had asked him, he wouldn"t have known it was snowing. Sargeant didn"t see the snow, not even under the bright lights of the main street, falling white and flaky against the night. He was too hungry, too sleepy, too tired. The Reverend Mr. Dorset, however, saw the snow when he switched on his porch light, opened the front door of his parsonage, and found standing there before him a big black man with snow on his face, a human piece of night with snow on his face—obviously unemployed. Said the Reverend Mr. Dorset before Sargeant even realized he"d opened his mouth: "I"m sorry. No! Go right down this street four blocks and turn to your left, walk up seven and you"ll see the Relief Shelter. I"m sorry. No!" He shut the door. Sargeant wanted to tell the holy man that he had already been to the Relief Shelter, been to hundreds of relief shelters during the depression years, the beds were always gone and supper was over, the place was full, and they drew the color line anyhow. But the minister said "No" and shut the door. Evidently he didn"t want to hear about it. And he had a door to shut. The big black man turned away. And even yet he didn"t see the snow, walking right into it. Maybe he sensed it, cold, wet, sticking to his jaws, wet on his black hands, sopping in his shoes. He stopped and stood on the sidewalk hunched over—-hungry, sleepy, cold—looking up and down. Then he looked right where he was—in front of a church! Of course! A church! Sure, right next to a parsonage, certainly a church. It had two doors. Broad white steps in the night all snowy white, two high arched doors with slender stone pillars on either side. And way up, a round lacy window with a stone crucifix in the middle and Christ on the crucifix in stone. All this was pale in the street lights, solid and stony pale in the snow. Sargeant blinked. When he looked up, the snow fell into his eyes. For the first time that night he saw the snow. He shook his head. He shook the snow from his coat sleeves, felt hungry, felt lost, felt not lost, felt cold. He walked up the steps for the church. He knocked at the door. No answer. He tried the handle. Locked. He put his shoulder against the door and his long black body slanted like a ramrod. He pushed. With loud rhythmic grunts, like the grunts in a chain-gang song, he pushed against the door. "I"m tired,...Huh! ...Hangry...Uh! ...I"m sleepy...Huh! I"m cold...I got to sleep somewhere," Sargeant said. "This here is church, ain"t it? Well, uh!" He pushed against the door. Suddenly, with an undue cracking and squeaking, the door began to give way to the tall black Negro who pushed ferociously against the door. By now two or three white people had stopped in the street, and Sargeant was vaguely aware of some of them yelling at him concerning the door. Three or four more came running, yelling at him. "Hey!" they said, "Hey!" "Uh-huh," answered the big tall Negro, "I know it"s a white folks" church, but I got to sleep somewhere." He gave another lunge at the door. "Huh!" And the door broke open. But just when the door gave way two white cops arrived in a car, ran up the steps with their clubs, and grabbed Sargeant. But Sargeant for once had no intention of being pulled or pushed away from the door. Sargeant grabbed, but not for anything so weak as a broken door. He grabbed for one of the tall stone pillars beside the door, grabbed at it and caught it. And held it. The cops pulled. Sargeant pulled. Most of the people in the street got behind the cops and helped them pull. "A big black unemployed Negro holding onto our church!" thought the people. "The idea!" The cops began to beat Sargeant over the head, and nobody protested. But he held on. And then the church fell down. Gradually, the big stone front of the church fell down, the walls and the rafters, the crucifix and the Christ. Then the whole thing fell down, covering the cops and the people with bricks and stones and debris. The whole church fell down in the snow. Sargeant got out from under the church and went walking on up the street with the stone pillar on his shoulder. He was under the impression that he had buried the parsonage and the Reverend Mr. Dorset who said "No!". So he laughed, and threw the pillar six blocks up the street and went on. Sargeant thought he was alone, but listening to the crunch, crunch, crunch on the snow of his own footsteps, he heard other footsteps, too, doubling his own. He looked around, and there was Christ walking along beside him, the same Christ that had been on the cross on the church—still stone with a rough stone surface, walking along beside him just like he was broken of the cross when the church fell down. "Well, I"ll be dogged," said Sargeant. "This here"s the first time I ever seed you off the cross..." "Yes," said Christ, crunching his feet in the snow. "You had to pull the church down to get me off the cross." "You glad?" said Sargeant. "I sure am," said Christ. They both laughed. "I"m a hell of a fellow, ain"t I?" said Sargeant. "Done pulled the church down!" "You did a good job," said Christ. "They have kept me nailed on a cross nearly two thousand years." "Whee-ee-e!" saie Sargent. "I know you are glad to get off." "I sure am" said Christ. They walked on in the snow. Sargenat looked at the man of stone. "And you been up there two thousand years?" "I sure have," Christ said. "Well, if I had a little cash," said Sargeant, "I"d show you around a bit." "I been around," said Christ. "Yeah, but that was a long time ago." "All the same," said Christ, "I"ve been around," They walked on in the snow until they came to the railroad yards. Sargeant was tired, sweating and tired. "Where you goin"?" Sargeant said, stopping by the tracks. He looked at Christ. Sargenat said, "I"m just a bum on the road. How about you? Where you goin"?" "God knows," Christ said, "but I"m leavin" here." They saw the red and green lights of the railroad yard half veiled by the snow that fell out of the night. Away down the track they saw a fire in a hobo jungle. "I can go there and sleep," Sargeant said. "You can?" "Sure," said Sargeant. "That place ain"t got no doors." Outside the town, along the tracks, there were barren trees and bushes below the embankment, snow-gray in the dark. And down among the trees and bushes there were makeshift houses made out of boxes and tin and old pieces of wood and canvas. You couldn"t see them in the dark, but you knew they were there if you"d ever been on the road, if you had ever lived with the homeless and hungry in a depression. "I"m side-tracking," Sargeant said. "I"m tired." "I"m gonna make it on to Kansas Cit," said Christ. "OK," Sargeant said, "So long!" He went down into the hobo jungle and found himself a place to sleep. He never did see Christ no more. About 6:00 a.m. a freight came by. Sargeant scrambled out of the jungle with a dozen or so more hobos and ran along the track, grabbing at the freight. It was dawn, early dawn, cold and gray. "Wonder where Christ is by now?" Sargeant thought. "He must-a gone on way on down the road. He didn"t sleep in this jungle." Sargeant grabbed the train and started to pull himself up into a moving coal car, over the edge of a wheeling coal car. But strangely enough, the car was full of cops. The nearest cop rapped Sargeant soundly across the knuckles with his night stick. Wham! Rapped his big black hands for clinging to the top of the car. Wham! But Sargeant did not tuna loose. He clung on and tried to pull himself into the car. He hollered at the top of his voice, "Damn it, lemme in this car!" "Shut up," barked the cop. "You crazy coon!" He rapped Sargeant across the knuckles and punched him in the stomach. "You ain"t out in no jungle now, this ain"t no train. You in jail!" Wham! Across his bare black fingers clinging to the bars of his cell. Wham! Between the steel bars low down against his shins. Suddenly Sargeant realized that he really was in jail. He wasn"t on no train. The blood of the night before had dried on his face, his head hurt terribly, and a cop outside in the corridor was hitting him across the knuckles for holding onto the door, yelling and shaking the cell door. "They must-a took me to jail for breaking down the door last night," Sargeant thought, "that church door." Sargeant went over and sat on a wooden bench against the cold stone wall. He was emptier than ever. His clothes were wet, clammy cold wet, and shoes sloppy with snow water. It was just about dawn. There he was, locked up behind a cell door, nursing his bruised fingers. The bruised fingers were his, but not the door. Not the club but the fingers. "You wait," mumbled Sargeant, black against the fail wall. "I"m gonna break down this door, too." "Shut up—or I"ll paste you one," said the cop. Then he must have been talking to himself because he said, "I wonder where Christ"s gone? I wonder if he"s gone to Kansas City?"

问答题Universal Grammar(西安交大2008研)

问答题strawberry generation

问答题Directions: You are asked to write an essay on the following topic: 1、 Universities should require every student to take some courses outside his or her field of study because acquiring knowledge of different academic fields is the best way to become truly educated. To what extent do you agree or disagree with this statement? You should write at least 250 words. You should use your own ideas, knowledge and experience and support your arguments with examples and relevant evidence.

问答题加强诚信建设

问答题你可以借这本书，条件是不要把它借给别人。

问答题{{B}}Directions:{{/B}} Read the following text carefully and then translate the underlined segments into Chinese. Your translation should be written neatly on ANSWER SHEET 2. (46) {{U}}Students of United States history, seeking to identify the circumstances that encouraged the emergence of feminist movements, have thoroughly investigated the mid-nineteenth-century American economic and social conditions that affected the status of women.{{/U}} These historinans, however, have analyzed less fully the development of specifically feminist ideas and activities during the same period. (47) {{U}}Furthermore, the ideological origins of feminism in the United States have been obscured because, even when historians did take into account those feminist ideas and activities occurring within the United States, they failed to recognize that feminism was then a truly international movement actually centered in Europe.{{/U}} American feminist activists who have been described as "solitary" and "individual theorists" were in reality connected to a movement—utopian socialism—which was already popularizing feminist ideas in Europe during the two decades that culminated in the first women's rights conference held at Seneca Falls, New York, in 1848. (48) {{U}}Thus, a complete understanding of the origins and development of nineteenth-century feminism in the United States requires that the geographical focus be widened to include Europe and that the detailed study already made of social conditions be expanded to include the ideological development of feminism.{{/U}} The earliest and most popular of the utopian socialists were the Saint-Simonians. The specifically feminist part of Saint-Simonianism has, however, been less studied than the group's contribution to early socialism. This is regrettable on two counts. By 1832 feminism was the central concern of Saint-Simonianism and entirely absorbed its adherents' energy; hence, by ignoring its feminism, European historians have misunderstood Saint-Simonianism. Moreover, since many feminist ideas can be traced to Saint-Simonianism, European historians' appreciation of later feminism in France and the United States remained limited. (49) {{U}}Saint-Simon's followers, many of whom were women, based their feminism on an interpretation of his project to reorganize the globe by replacing brute force with the rule of spiritual powers.{{/U}} The new world order would be ruled together by a male, to represent reflection, and a female, to represent sentiment. This complementarity reflects the fact that, while the Saint-Simonians did not reject the belief that there were innate differences between men and women, they nevertheless foresaw an equally important social and political role for both sexes in their utopia. Only a few Saint-Simonians opposed a definition of sexual equality based on gender distinction. This minority believed that individuals of both sexes were born similar in capacity and character, and they ascribed male-female differences to socialization and education. (50) {{U}}The envisioned result of both currents of thought, however, was that women would enter public life in the new age and that sexual equality would reward men as well as women with an improved way of life.{{/U}}

问答题Another test was done with slightly older infants at bedtime. In some groups the room was silent; in others recorded lullabies were played. In others a ticking metronome was operating at the heart-beat speed of 72 beats per minute. In still others the heart-beat recording itself was played. It was then checked to see which groups fell asleep more quickly. The heart-beat group dropped off in half the time it took for any of the other groups. This not only clinches the idea that the sound of the heart beating is a powerfully calming stimulus, but it also shows that the response is a highly specific one. The metronome imitation will not do—at least, not for young infants. So it seems fairly certain that this is the explanation of the mother's left-side approach to baby-holding. It is interesting that when 466 Madonna and child paintings (dating back over several hundred years) were analyzed for this feature, 373 of them showed the baby on the left breast. Here again the figure was at the 80 per cent level. This contrasts with observations of females carrying parcels, where it was found that 50 per cent carried them on the left and 50 per cent on the right. What other possible results could this heart-beat imprinting have? It may, for example, explain why we insist on locating feelings of love in the heart rather than the head. As the song says: "You gotta have a heart!" It may also explain why mothers rock their babies to lull them to sleep. The rocking motion is carried on at about the same speed as the heart-beat, and once again it probably 'reminds' the infants of the rhythmic sensations they became so familiar with inside the womb, as the great heart of the mother pumped and thumped away above them.

问答题{{B}}Directions:{{/B}} You just spent your summer holidays in Tom's hometown, Tom's home is at a small and quiet countryside. Now, you are going to write him a letter of thanks for all he and his family did for you during your stay there. Imagine some details of the summary holidays. Write your letter in no less than 100 words. Write it nearly on ANSWER SHEET 2. Do not sign your own name at the end of the letter; use "Li Ming" instead. Do not write the address, (10 points)

问答题Most people know how to count, but the way we master this ability remains something of a puzzle. Numerals were invented only around four to five thousand years ago, meaning it is unlikely that enough time has elapsed for specialized parts of the brain for processing numbers to evolve, which suggests that math is largely a cultural invention. It appears to be based on an interface between vision and reasoning that we share with other animals, allowing us to "see" small numbers—up to around five—without counting. This ability—often called 'the number sense'—lays the foundations of later mathematical knowledge, but its basis is poorly understood. It has been argued that the number sense itself may be innate, but this fails to account for why learning to master the use of small numbers is such a difficult and drawn-out process in children.

问答题Directions: In this part, you are required to write a composition entitled My View on Comparison in no less than 200 words. Your composition should be based on the following outline: 1. The definition of comparison. 2. I have benefited a lot from comparison. 3. The application of comparison in the academic realm.

问答题{{B}}Directions:{{/B}}AStudythegraphsbelowCarefullyandwriteanessayofabout200words.BYouressaymustcoveralltheinformationprovidedandmeettherequirementsbelow:(1)interpretthepicture;(2)explaintherolesofthemigrantworkers;(3)yourcomments.ThePercentageofMigrantWorkersinaChineseCity