I was sure that I was to be killed. I became terribly nervous. I searched in my pockets to see if there were any cigarettes, which had escaped their search. I found one and because of my shaking hands, I could barely get it to my lips. But I had no matches, they had taken those. I looked through the bars at my jailer. He did not make eye contact with me. I called out to him “Have you got a light?” He looked at me, shrugged and came over to light my cigarette. As he came close and lit the match, his eyes inadvertently（不经意地）locked with mine. At that moment, I smiled. I don't know why I did that. Perhaps it was nervousness, perhaps it was because, when you get very close, one to another, it is very hard not to smile. In any case, I smiled. In that instant, it was as though a spark jumped across the gap between our two hearts, our two human souls. I know he didn't want to, but my smile leaped through the bars and generated a smile on his lips, too. He lit my cigarette but stayed near, looking at me directly in the eyes and continuing to smile.

    "I kept smiling at him, now aware of him as a person and not just a jailer. And his looking at me seemed to have a new dimension too. “Do you have kids?” he asked. “Yes, here, here.” I took out my wallet and nervously fumbled for the pictures of my family. He, too, took out the pictures of his family and began to talk about his plans and hopes for them. My eyes filled with tears. I said that I feared that I'd never see my family again, never have the chance to see them grow up. Tears came to his eyes, too. "Suddenly, without another word, he unlocked my cell and silently led me out. Out of the jail, quietly and by back routes, out of the town. There, at the edge of town, he released me. And without another word, he turned back toward the town.

    “My life was saved by a smile.” Yes, the smile― the unaffected, unplanned, natural connection between people. I really believe that if that part of you and that part of me could recognize each other, we wouldn't be enemies. We couldn't have hate or envy or fear!

    Once upon a time, there was a beautiful bird, which was very curious about hell. When she was little, her mother always told her that if she didn't master the flying skills, she would go to hell. She was so curious about hell that she always asked others what hell looked like, but no one was sure, because none of them had ever been there. Some said hell was a place full of water, and others told her that hell was full of burning fire. However, the bird knew they were lying. She wanted to find out what hell was.

    When other birds were learning flying skills, she always hid herself and watched them. She thought in this way she could go to hell and see what hell looked like. However, she spent so little time learning flying skills that one day she was caught by a little boy. The little boy gave her to his grandpa in the countryside as a gift. The old man liked her very much. He made a delicate cage and put her in it. The bird was very worried because she thought she couldn't find out what hell was like staying in this small cage. However, she couldn't escape. Day after day, she just stayed in the cage, watching other birds flying. She lost her freedom and she became sadder and sadder. At last, she became ill. The old man finally opened the cage, but she was too weak to fly. Lying on the ground, she thought of the question that she ever asked all the time.

    “What does hell look like?”

    “Hell is a small well-decorated cage.” Before she closed her eyes forever, she finally answered that question herself.

    LakeLander        ·2 hours ago

    Today, a man talked very loud on his phone on a train between Malvern and Reading, making many passengers upset. I wonder how he would react if I were to read my newspaperoutloudonthetrain, Ihave never had the courage to do it, though.

    Pak50          ···     ·57 minutes ago

    Why not give it a try? Perhaps you should take lessons on a

    musical instrument. The late musician Dennis Brian is said to have

    asked a fellow train passenger to turn off his radio. When his

    request was refused, he took out his French horn(号) and started to practice.

    Angie O'Edema·42 minutes ago

    I don't see how musical instruments can help improve manners in public. Don't do to others what you wouldn't like to be done to yourself. Once, a passenger next to me talked out loud on his mobile phone. I left my seat quietly, giving him some privacy to finish his conversation. He realized this and apologised to me. When his phone rang again later, he left his seat to answer it. You see, a bit of respect and cooperation can do the job better.

    Taodas                          ·29 minutes ago

    I did read my newspaper out loud on a train, and it turned out well. The guy took it in good part, and we chatted happily all the way to Edinburgh.

    Sophie 76                                     ·13minutes ago

    I have not tried reading my newspaper out loud on a train, but ,several years ago, I read some chapters from Harry Porter to my bored and noisy children. Several passengers seemed to appreciate what I did.

    There's a curious thing about people.All of us are driven in some way or another to achieve—we want to run faster,be more creative,win more awards,and earn more money.But here's the thing: if you want to offer warm words of wisdom,constructive criticism or "360-degree feedback",then think again.Most of us would rather not hear it.

    Our easily-broken egos（自尊心）are partly to blame.We all want to meet our own expectations of ourselves,and so being critised can present a huge threat to our egos.Yet as decades of psychological theory and research have indicated,people have endless tricky strategies of remaining positive in the face of criticism.For this reason,rather than us welcoming feedback with open arms,our first response is often an automatic defense.These reactions serve to make us feel better about ourselves.

    Psychological research exposes this unhealthy appetite for ignorance.In one study,students watched a false educational film about a serious disease called "TAA Deficiency".In fact,TAA Deficiency is completely fictional,but the students were not told this information;instead,they were asked whether they wished to provide a cheek test for assessing（评估）their risk of developing the disease.Half of the students were told that if they ever developed TAA Deficiency,then the treatment would involve them taking a two-week course of pills.Of this group,52% agreed to provide the cheek test.The other half of students learned the treatment would involve taking the pills for the rest of their lives.Of this group,only 21% agreed to the test.

    These findings show a common pattern seen in other studies within and beyond the context of healthcare.That is,people are especially resistant to hearing feedback when they believe it could force them to do something difficult or unpleasant.

    It seemed like a typical November day, a month after my grandmother had passed away. I was frustrated by everything that was going on around me.

    I was mad and confused about everyone especially when I saw a young girl walking through the store holding her grandmother's hand. The little girl was begging her grandmother for ice cream just like I used to when I was young. I was jealous of the little girl, because she had something I didn't have anymore — a grandmother by her side.

    I had to force myself to ignore the little girl. She was just too happy for me and that was unacceptable at that time in my world.

    I went to the cash register to pay for my things. It was then that my anger quickly shifted from the little girl to the cashier. She took my things to another register. When the cashier gave me my change I didn't say thank you. I simply took my change and left.

    Feeling tired and hopeless, I began walking to my car. As I stood in a public parking lot a million questions formed in my mind. Why did this happen to me? Aren't we supposed to get signs from the people that passed on? Why didn't I feel her presence anymore?

Suddenly, a woman driving right by my side rolled down her window. "Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me," she said loudly. Thinking she was going to ask for my parking spot, I simply pointed to my car. "No, excuse me," she said again.

Then I felt I had no choice but to see what this annoying lady wanted. She reached to the very bottom of her bag and handed me a three-page booklet. "It looks like that you need this," she said calmly with a smile on her face.

I looked down at the used booklet and there were some big bold letters on the front cover reading, "What Hope for Dead Loved Ones?" By the time I looked up she had gone.

    I felt a sense of relaxation as I read the first page. It explained how people pass on and that their spirit remains with us. It was the first time since my grandmother passed away that I had felt her with me. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but I knew that I finally felt happiness from a stranger.

    "You know, the soft subjects," says the boy in maths. "The easy ones: the stupid girls at the bottom take them. Like dance. It shouldn't even be a subject." We're choosing subjects for our A-level taster day at school. I see the raised eyebrows (眉毛) when I explain two of my GCSE (General Certificate of Secondary Education) choices are dance and drama(戏剧).

    I was told by advisers that dance and drama wouldn't help me to get a suitable career. My friends told me I'd get bored of dance and switch to science within the first month.

    But taking GCSE dance was the best decision I ever made. Dance gives me something to pour my head and heart into. It gives me a feeling of belonging, creativity, security and freedom.

    The education secretary Nicky Morgan has put emphasis on (强调) science, technology, engineering and maths (STEM), saying that students who focus on the arts risk their careers. Stopping young people from expressing themselves at such a young age is not doing them any favours. Perhaps Nicky Morgan has forgotten to open the door of having a drive to study that subject day in, day out. It shouldn't matter what that subject is.

    I don't doubt the influence that STEM subjects can have on the people that love them. But to force children into one field is cruel. As much as I try, I'm not good at and don't love physics, biology or maths. I don't want a career in these areas.

    There has been a decrease in the number of state schools offering arts subjects taught by specialist teachers. I can't even imagine how it feels to be told that you don't teach a "real subject" by an 8-year-old boy.

    To the teachers, the parents, the government I say: Let children make their own decisions. Let them live in the present. Let them have a real, unlimited education.