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题型:阅读理解 题类:真题 难易度:普通

2014年高考英语真题试卷(浙江卷)

阅读理解

    A city child's summer is spent in the street in front of his home, and all through the long summer vacations I sat on the edge of the street and watched enviously the other boys on the block play baseball. I was never asked to take part even when one team had a member missing—not out of special cruelty, but because they took it for granted I would be no good at it. They were right, of course.

    I would never forget the wonderful evening when something changed. The baseball ended about eight or eight thirty when it grew dark. Then it was the custom of the boys to retire to a little stoop(门廊) that stuck out from the candy store on the corner and that somehow had become theirs. No grownup ever sat there or attempted to. There the boys would sit, mostly talking about the games played during the day and of the game to be played tomorrow. Then long silences would fall and the boys would wander off one by one. It was just after one of those long silences that my life as an outsider changed. I can no longer remember which boy it was that summer evening who broke the silence with a question: but whoever he was, I nod to him gratefully now. “What's in those books you're always reading?” he asked casually. “Stories,” I answered. “What kind?” asked somebody else without much interest.

    Nor do I know what drove me to behave as I did,for usually I just sat there in silence, glad enough to be allowed to reain among them; but instead of answering his question, I told them for two hours the story I was reading at the moment. The book was Sister Carrie. They listened bug-eyed and breathless. I must have told it well, but I think there was another and deeper reason that made them to keep an audience. Listening to a tale being told in the dark is one of the most ancient of man's entertainments, but I was offering them as well, without being aware of doing it, a new and exciting experience.

    The books they themselves read were the Rover Boys or Tom Swift or G.A.Henty. I had read them too, but at thirteen I had long since left them behind. Since I was much alone I had become an enthusiastic reader and I had gone through the books-for-boys series. In those days there was no reading material between children's and grownups'books or I could find none. I had gone right fromTome Swift and His Flying Machine to Theodore Dreiser and Sister Carrie. Dreiser had hit my young mind, and they listened to me tell the story with some of the wonder that I had had in reading it.

    The next night and many nights thereafter, a kind of unspoken ritual (仪式) took place. As it grew dark, I would take my place in the center of the stoop and begin the evening's tale. Some nights, in order to taste my victory more completely, I cheated. I would stop at the most exciting part of a story by Jack London or Bret Harte, and without warning tell them that that was as far as I had gone in the book and it would have to be continued the following evening. It was not true, of course; but I had to make certain of my new-found power and position. I enjoyed the long summer evenings until school began in the fall. Other words of mine have been listened to by larger and more fashionable audiences, but for that tough and athletic one that sat close on the stoop outside the candy store, I have an unreasoning love that will last forever.

(1)、Watching the boys playing baseball, the writer must have felt ________.
A、bitter and lonely B、special and different C、pleased and excited D、disturbed and annoyed
(2)、The writer feels grateful even now to the boy who asked the question because the boy ________.
A、invited him to join in their game B、liked the book that he was reading C、broke the long silence of that summer evening D、offered him an opportunity that changed his life
(3)、According to Paragraph 3, story-telling was popular among the boys basically because ________.
A、the story was from a children's book  B、listening to tales was an age-old practice C、the boys had few entertainments after dark D、the boys didn't read books by themselves
(4)、The boys were attracted toSister Carriebecause ________.
A、it was written by Theodore Dreiser   B、it was specifically targeted at boys C、it gave them a deeper feeling of pleasure  D、it talked about the wonders of the world
(5)、Sometimes the writer stopped at the most exciting part of a story to _______.
A、play a mean trick on the boys    B、experience more joy of achievement C、add his own imagination to the story  D、help the boys understand the story better
(6)、What is the message conveyed in the story?
A、One can find his position in life in his own way. B、Friendship is built upon respect for each other. C、Reading is more important than playing games. D、Adult habits are developed from childhood.
举一反三
阅读理解

    Before you were my teacher, I thought that teaching was the last thing I wanted to do. Why would someone want to come in every day and attempt to instruct students, many of whom couldn't care less, or to get paid very little compared with the work he or she put in?

    You may have thought that the only thing I was learning from you was the course, but that's not all l learned. From reference books to funny jokes, you made each class exciting. You always tried to make class charming so that we could be excited about learning. However, those days have gone by.

    Whenever I was confused and needed extra help, you were the exact one to turn to. I would walk into your room for help and there would be several kids. You ran from one student to the next helping each one through their confusion. You could have gone back home after the bell rang. Instead, you chose to Stay and care about what your students did.

    You didn't only care about my learning, but you also cared about other things I was involved in. At the beginning of the year, we wrote down our hobbies and interests. You remembered what we wrote, too. I had missed class for track meets (田径运动会)and when I came back the next day, you would ask me how it went. Many of the teachers never bothered to ask what I liked to do.

    These things showed me the value of teaching. They showed me how much of an influence a teacher can have on a student. I want to be the one that influences students and pushes them toward success. I want students to leave my classroom thinking that their time was worthwhile (值得的). I want to be the inspiration for them that you were for me. Whenever it gets hard for me to continue on this path, I'll remember you and what you did for me.

阅读理解

One of the tallest wooden buildings in Europe, a 98m timber mixture skyscraper, is to rise in Berlin.

The 29-storey WoHo Tower, to be designed by a firm of Norwegian architects, is intended to be a "light-house project" for low-carbon construction, towering over Potsdamer Platz and the Landwehr Canal.

Its core, including lifts and a staircase, is to be built around a steel-reinforced concrete structure but the rest of the building, including flats, offices, cafes and a kindergarten, will be fashioned down wooden beams and panels.

"As Norwegians, we are used to working a lot with timber," Nicolai Riise, CEO of the Mad Architects' Practice said.

"The thing about timber is that it demonstrates sustainability from top to bottom. The carbon footprint is close to zero and it's a fantastic material to build with. If you look at this in a broader way, it's one of the ways we are going to be able to beat the climate crisis."

Wooden skyscrapers, once regarded as an unprofitable pipe dream, have become a realistic prospect with the coming of cross-laminated building techniques and more flexible planning laws. Because these structures' parts are fit with care, they can be far lighter than their concrete equivalents and are thought to be relatively resistant to fire. A cubic meter of wood can also take an estimated ton of carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere.

Larger wooden structures are planned elsewhere. London is examining blueprints for the 300-meter Oakwood Tower. A project in Tokyo could rise to 350m.

 阅读理解

 "BANG!" I pulled the door heavily behind me. "Never set foot in this house again!" stormed father. I rushed out of the flat and ran along the street.

A young man who held a child in his arms walked past me. I felt as if I saw my childhood from another space: happy and carefree. But now...I don't know whether it is because I have grown up or because Dad is getting old. We differ in our ways of thinking. We are just like two people coming from two different worlds. It feels like there is an iron(铁制的) door between us that can never be opened.

I wandered in the streets, until I had only the street lights to keep me company. My heart was frozen on this hot summer night. When I finally reached the high-rise apartment block in which I lived, I saw that the light was still on.

I thought to myself, "Is Father waiting for his boy, or still angry with him?"

All the lights were off except Father's.

Dad was always like this. Maybe he didn't know how to express himself. After an argument he had the habit of tucking me underneath the covers(掖被子) while I was sleeping. This was how he always was. He had been a leader for so long that telling everyone else what to do had become his second nature.

The light was still on.

"Am I wrong?" I whispered, maybe... With the key in hand, I was as nervous as I had ever been. At last, I decided to open the door. As soon as I opened the door, tears ran down my cheeks. I suddenly realized that the iron door that I had imagined between us did not exist at all. Love——it's second to none.

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