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Daily English Jun 16, 2011

原创 IT生活 作者:moonsoft 时间:2019-06-24 09:39:05 0 删除 编辑

再复杂的句子,比如带一个定语从句, 一个宾语从句,一个状语从句组成的复合句,的确很难第一时间分析好,那么只有靠语感, 抓关键字如 WHO, THAT , IF , WHICH 等等来先抓到主干 主谓宾, 主席表,等, 然后再进一步翻译,这样复杂的句子顶多也就是阅读,如果要是听力,目前对我来说肯定一塌糊涂!

翻译定语从句 放到 前面进行修饰

........

Some people consider the hydrogen bomb a very fatal weapon( which could kill somebody.)

定语从句 , consider sb /sth 认为默认某物

[@more@]

Don't you think it's dangerous to have one in the house, particularly where there are children around?


it is adj to do sth . 做某事是....的 宾语从句

你不认为家里有氢弹是危险的吗,尤其是有孩子的家里面?

But those (who want to ban the bomb for Americans citizens )claim that[ if you have one locked in the cabinet , with the fuse in a drawer], you would never

be able to assemble it in time to stop an intruder.


those 主语(定语从句) claim 声称断言 谓语 +that 宾语从句[if 状语从句]

那些想禁止美国居民拥有氢弹的人声称(认为)当你把氢弹锁在橱柜里面而导线在抽屉里面的情况下,你根本没有能力及时安装好它去抵御入侵者.(你根本没有时间将它们安装好以赶

走入侵者)

with the fuse in a drawer with + N +perp with a gun on his back .独立主格结构做状语


Another argument (against allowing people to own a bomb) is that at the moment it is very expensive to build one.

argument is that 表语从句
allow sb to do sth
at the moment 当前
argue for /against 反对

另外的反对人们拥有炸弹的争论是这个时候它的造假还是很贵

另外一个反对人们拥有氢弹的理由是当前建造氢弹的成本太高

So what your association is backing is a program , (which would allow the middle and upper classes to acuire a bomb while poor people will be left

defenseless with just handguns.)

what your association is backing 主语 IS 系 a program 表语

leave sb/sth adj
使某人/某物 处于某种状态

back 及物动词 ,

及物动词 vt.

1.使倒退;使后退
She backed her car out of the garage.
她从车库倒车出来。
2.支持;援助;赞助
A lot of my friends backed my plan.
许多朋友支持我的计划。
3.(赛马等)下赌注于;打赌
4.裱褙;给...加衬里[(+with)]
5.背书(支票等)
John backed the check immediately.
约翰立即背书这张支票。

progam 计划
所以你们协会所支持的是中产阶级和上层社会拥有氢弹而穷人仅拥有枪支而失去防卫的计划

通读:

During the whole class, he never relaxed his stiff position on the edge of his chair, sitting as far from me as possible. I could see his hand on his left

leg was clenched into a fist, tendons standing out under his pale skin. This, too, he never relaxed. He had the long sleeves of his white shirt pushed up to

his elbows, and his forearm was surprisingly hard and muscular beneath his light skin. He wasn't nearly as slight as he'd looked next to his burly brother.
The class seemed to drag on longer than the others. Was it because the day was finally coming to a close, or because I was waiting for his tight fist to

loosen? It never did; he continued to sit so still it looked like he wasn't breathing. What was wrong with him? Was this his normal behavior? I questioned my

judgment on Jessica's bitterness at lunch today. Maybe she was not as resentful as I'd thought. It couldn't have anything to do with me. He didn't know me

from Eve. I peeked up at him one more time, and regretted it. He was glaring down at me again, his black eyes full of revulsion. As I flinched away from him,

shrinking against my chair, the phrase if looks could kill suddenly ran through my mind.
At that moment, the bell rang loudly, making me jump, and Edward Cullen was out of his seat. Fluidly he rose — he was much taller than I'd thought — his

back to me, and he was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat. I sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly after him. He was so mean. It wasn't

fair. I began gathering up my things slowly, trying to block the anger that filled me, for fear my eyes would tear up. For some reason, my temper was

hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency.
"Aren't you Isabella Swan?" a male voice asked.
I looked up to see a cute, baby-faced boy, his pale blond hair carefully gelled into orderly spikes, smiling at me in a friendly way. He obviously didn't

think I smelled bad.
"Bella," I corrected him, with a smile.
"I'm Mike."
"Hi, Mike."
"Do you need any help finding your next class?"
"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it."
"That's my next class, too." He seemed thrilled, though it wasn't that big of a coincidence in a school this small.
We walked to class together; he was a chatterer — he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me. He'd lived in California till he was ten,

so he knew how I felt about the sun. It turned out he was in my English class also. He was the nicest person I'd met today. But as we were entering the gym,

he asked, "So, did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? I've never seen him act like that."
I cringed. So I wasn't the only one who had noticed. And, apparently, that wasn't Edward Cullen's usual behavior. I decided to play dumb.
"Was that the boy I sat next to in Biology?" I asked artlessly.
"Yes," he said. "He looked like he was in pain or something."
"I don't know," I responded. "I never spoke to him."
"He's a weird guy." Mike lingered by me instead of heading to the dressing room. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you."
I smiled at him before walking through the girls' locker room door. He was friendly and clearly admiring. But it wasn't enough to ease my irritation.
The Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, found me a uniform but didn't make me dress down for today's class. At home, only two years of P.E. were required. Here, P.E.

was mandatory all four years. Forks was literally my personal hell on Earth.
I watched four volleyball games running simultaneously. Remembering how many injuries I had sustained — and inflicted — playing volleyball, I felt faintly

nauseated.
The final bell rang at last. I walked slowly to the office to return my paperwork. The rain had drifted away, but the wind was strong, and colder. I wrapped

my arms around myself.
When I walked into the warm office, I almost turned around and walked back out.
Edward Cullen stood at the desk in front of me. I recognized again that tousled bronze hair. He didn't appear to notice the sound of my entrance.
I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting for the receptionist to be free.
He was arguing with her in a low, attractive voice. I quickly picked up the gist of the argument. He was trying to trade from sixth-hour Biology to another

time — any other time.
I just couldn't believe that this was about me. It had to be something else, something that happened before I entered the Biology room. The look on his face

must have been about another aggravation entirely. It was impossible that this stranger could take such a sudden, intense disliketo me.

The door opened again, and the cold wind suddenly gusted through the room, rustling the papers on the desk, swirling my hair around my face.
The girl who came in merely stepped to the desk, placed a note in the wire basket, and walked out again. But Edward Cullen's back stiffened, and he turned

slowly to glare at me — his face was absurdly handsome —with piercing, hate-filled eyes. For an instant, I felt a thrill of genuine fear, raising the hair

on my arms. The look only lasted a second, but it chilled me more than the freezing wind. He turned back to the receptionist.
"Never mind, then," he said hastily in a voice like velvet. "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help." And he turned on his heel

without another look at me, and disappeared out the door. I went meekly to the desk, my face white for once instead of red, and handed her the signed slip.
"How did your first day go, dear?" the receptionist asked maternally.
"Fine," I lied, my voice weak. She didn't look convinced.
When I got to the truck, it was almost the last car in the lot. It seemed like a haven, already the closest thing to home I had in this damp green hole. I

sat inside for a while, just staring out the windshield blankly. But soon I was cold enough to need the heater, so I turned the key and the engine roared to

life. I headed back to Charlie's house, fighting tears the whole way there.

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