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    Making a good job choice is almost as good as choosing a good life. So, choosing a job is one of the most important decisions to make in life.

    For my job, there are three important things that I will consider: The first one—that I must work in an area I like—is most important to me. Someone once said if you find a job that you enjoy, then you won't have to work another day. I would like to work in an area where I can be more creative. I would like to be the most valuable member there. All this is possible only if I like what I do.

    The second one is that the area of my work must lead me to solve some new and hard problems. I would like to stay in the same area for a long time. In order for this to happen, the work must provide enough problems. More than just working to live, I enjoy making a difference and trying my best for the whole progress. I would also like to be well remunerated for my hard work, so I can lead a comfortable life with this hard-won money. Then I can provide the best for my family.

    The third important thing is that I would like to work in an area that would help other people. The work in my mind is in fields such as the army, training or management. In such areas, I can help to develop the abilities of others and bring out their best. It would be a most satisfying job to help young people to become the best that they can be. When I become old, I would like to look back with a great sense of satisfaction that thousands of people have become better persons through my work.

    I accept the idea that no one should make a choice of a job suddenly or quickly. He should decide what he wants to be in the long run. Then, he should decide how he works towards it. He should study the proper courses, read the books and speak to knowledgeable persons in that field before making a job choice. A good choice will most probably lead to a better life.

Johnson Smith
Founder and CEO
Johnson Review

    The baby is just one day old and has not yet left hospital. She is quiet but alert (警觉的). Twenty centimeters from her face researchers have placed a white card with two black spots on it. She stares at it carefully. A researcher removes the card and replaces it by another, this time with the spots differently spaced. As the cards change from one to the other, her gaze(凝视) starts to lose its focus—until a third, with three black spots, is presented. Her gaze returns: she looks at it for twice as long as she did at the previous card. Can she tell that the number two is different from three, just 24 hours after coming into the world?

    Or do newborns simply prefer more to fewer? The same experiment, but with three spots shown before two, shows the same return of interest when the number of spots changes. Perhaps it is just the newness? When slightly older babies were shown cards with pictures of objects (a comb, a key, an orange and so on), changing the number of objects had an effect separate from changing the objects themselves. Could it be the pattern that two things make, as opposed to three? No again. Babies paid more attention to squares moving randomly(随意地)on a screen when their number changed from two to three, or three to two. The effect even crosses between senses. Babies who were repeatedly shown two spots became more excited when they then heard three drumbeats than when they heard just two; likewise(同样地) when the researchers started with drumbeats and moved to spots.

    I first met Paul Newman in 1968, when George Roy Hill, the director of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, introduced us in New York City. When the studio didn't want me for the film - it wanted somebody as well known as Paul - he stood up for me. I don't know how many people would have done that; they would have listened to their agents or the studio powers.

    The friendship that grew out of the experience of making that film and The Sting four years later had its root in the fact that although there was an age difference, we both came from a tradition of theater and live TV. We were respectful of craft(技艺)and focused on digging into the characters we were going to play. Both of us had the qualities and virtues that are typical of American actors: humorous, aggressive, and making fun of each other - but always with an underlying affection. Those were also at the core(核心)of our relationship off the screen.

    We shared the brief that if you're fortunate enough to have success, you should put something back - he with his Newman's Own food and his Hole in the Wall camps for kids who are seriously ill, and me with Sundance and the institute and the festival. Paul and I didn't see each other all that regularly, but sharing that brought us together. We supported each other financially and by showing up at events.

    I last saw him a few months ago. He'd been in and out of the hospital. He and I both knew what the deal was, and we didn't talk about it. Ours was a relationship that didn't need a lot of words.

    It was the night before my election. I was running for Sophomore Vice President.

    I had prepared a performance for the election--a funny boxing match. The fight had popular moves as seen in Dodge Ball, Iron Man, and Super Smash Brothers. In the end, I would perform my famous move, the Power-Punch from Hot Rod.

    My friend Cheyenne and I rehearsed (排练) the fight for hours, but the fight would not be a fight without music and sound effects. This is where my brother came in. He stayed up all night to work on that soundtrack. And when my computer's disk burner (刻录机) went out at 6 in the morning, he spent a college student's week's worth of incomes to replace it.

    Why would he go into all that trouble? Because he knew that out of all the other important things he could be doing, this was imperative to me. He knew because it was once important to him. Having graduated from Layton High just a year earlier, he knew what it was like to be in the center of people's attention. He knew how fun high school could be, and he wanted me to have a great experience.

    I ended up losing the election, but that day changed my world forever. The lesson my brother taught me became my most important belief. But it wasn't until I had a similar opportunity that I really understood why he cared so much.

    What did it take for me to understand? It was the performance. The rest of the cast and I would rehearse every day after school for 6 months all for what? The chance to perform a play eight times. As I came out on that stage for the first time and listened to the laughter, I was filled with joy. By the end of the play, the audience broke into tears, and so did we. What happened? We had the sweet opportunity of giving them an unforgettable theatre moment -- a moment to laugh, reflect, and shed tears.