Read the article and select the best answer. Article: My mother loves flowers. As soon as warm weather comes around, you will find her planting, watering and weeding over everything .For many years we lived next door to each other, and she spent as much time in my garden as she did her own. After the flowers became plentiful each summer, she would cut colorful bouquets to enjoy inside the house--both hers and mine . I would often come home from work and find a beautiful arrangement of fresh flowers on my coffee table. Shortly before Christmas one year, a local flower shop offered a bouquet-a-month special. It seemed to be a great way to thank her for all of the flowers she had given me through the years. After the holidays, in early January, I drove her to the flower shop to pick up her first month's bouquet. the small fresh colorful bouquet would hardly fill a small vase . I was so embarrassed .However, after we returned home, she began to arrange the flowers she had received."Mom, I'm sorry, "I told her."I can't believe how _ that bouquet is."She looked at me and smiled."It's okay,"she said"It allows me to better enjoy the beauty of each one." Mom's words helped me to realize something bigger and more important--when we have too many good things, we often fail to enjoy the beauty of each one. Thanks, Mom ,for helping me understand that less is sometimes more. Question: The author bought her mother flowers to _ . Options: A: celebrate the coming Christmas B: express thanks for all her mother's done C: bring more flowers to her mother's garden D: arrange her mother's new house
B

(Question)
Read the article and select the best answer. Article: I was sure that I was to be killed. I became terribly nervous. I fumbled 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 the guard. 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 unconsciously 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 caused 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 thinking of him as a person and not just a guard. "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 were 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 prison, 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. Question: What do we know about the man from the passage? Options: A: He had lost contact with his family. B: He had been forbidden to smoke. C: He had been searched. D: He had killed someone.
(Answer)
C

Ques: Read the article and select the best answer. Article: What shapes a man's ability and skill was always a question to psychologists until a few decades ago when findings show that they for the most part come from practice ---- repetitive and endless practice. The psychologist K. Anders Ericsson of the University of Florida and his team, based on a survey of a violin class in a college of music, have found that the students whose levels are rated as "A" have spent on average over 10,000 hours on violin-practice, those with level B a bit less than 8,000 hours, and those with average or lower levels no more than 5,000 hours. The result of the survey is widely preferred because it suggests that practice makes perfect, that is, the distinction between "excellent" and "good" lies more in hard work than in natural intelligence. Malcolm Gladwell points out in his latest book Outliers: The Story of Success: "Practice isn't the thing you do once you're good. It's the thing you do that makes you good." Besides, he thinks IQ plays little part in the formation and development of ability. "When one has an IQ of 120," writes he, "what is beyond it does not make an evidential difference in real life." However, scientists' experimental results are quite different from the psychologists'. Their findings show success in many areas depends on intelligence --- and not a little. David Lubinski and Camilla Benbow of Vanderbilt University, with their research group, carried out a milestone research. They selected from Youth Talented Search 2000 teenagers of or under 13 whose SAT results ranked top1%. After tracking the achievements the 2,000 "wonder children" made in academy and career, Lubinski and Benbow's group found that those ranking top 1% have more possibility (averagely by two to four times) to get a doctor's degree, a certificate, and publish academic theses and works than those ranking top 9%. As a conclusion, it's a great advantage in the real world to have a high IQ. Question: Psychologists' conclusion is popular among people probably because _ . Options: A: everyone sees a chance to succeed through practice B: hard work plays as important a part in success as IQ C: they are told that IQ makes no difference in real life D: there is no difference between "excellent" and "good"
Ans: A

Ques:Read the article and select the best answer. Article: "Earthquake!"The word flashed in my brain.A roaring sound filled my ears.I tried to slide beneath my desk.The desk did a wild tap dance,slipping and sliding towards the centre of the room.I twisted my body and grabbed at the windowsill behind me,somehow kicking free of my dancing chair.I tried to stand.My legs skated away as if on a bucking escalator. My fingers shook,grasped and held the windowsill tightly.Somewhere through the roar sounded the terrified scream of some wounded animal.I looked behind me and tried to steady my gaze on the other kids but the scene was a dizzy nightmare.Some of the class were sitting in the middle of the room,surrounded by chairs and desks.One girl was screaming.A boy was trying to claw his way across the floor to the door in a crazy overarm crawl. My grip froze me to the windowsill. I cried aloud,"I'm going to die.I'm going to die.Save me,I'm not ready to die,I'm not ready!" I hunched forward on my knees and pressed my face against my clenched fingers.I looked at the backs of my fingers and stupidly noticed the fragile pale hairs growing out of the pores.The fingers would soon cease to exist.Somehow the impending horror of my death was too terrible to even cry about. Suddenly,I became aware that the rocking had ceased.Perhaps I wasn't going to die. Question: When the narrator clenches his fingers he is _ . Options: A: afraid B: angry C: injured D: impatient

Ans:
A