英语短篇小说love

① 关于爱的英文短故事 不是爱情 要有中英文对照

At night one day, the boy rides motorcycle being loving the other party with girl scorch , their each other depths. Girl: "Get slower ... I am afraid of " Boy: "No , like this amusing " Girl: "Seek your ... Like this very frightening " Boy: "All right , that you criticize you loving my " Girl: "Good ... . I love your ... Can you slow down now? Boy: "Carry my once ... in breast tightly"The girl has embraced his once girl tightly: "Now can you slow down? Boy: "You can take off my helmet and does self put on? It lets me disturb me not to feel well , driving car ". The second day , newspaper are reported: One motorcycle smashes up on one building because of The brake doesn't work , have two people , a death , one to survive on vehicle ... The boy who drives car knows the skid is out of order,But, he not let a girl know , is afraid because of the meeting lets a girl feel like that. Antagonism , he have let a girl once criticize her finally loving him , have once have embraced him finally, and the helmet , let her put self on result , girl have been alive , himself has died ...

一天夜里，男孩骑摩托车带着女孩高速行驶，他们彼此深爱着对方。女孩：“慢一点...我怕...”男孩：“不，这样很有趣...”女孩：“求求你...这样太吓人了...”男孩：“好吧，那你说你爱我...”女孩：“好....我爱你...你现在可以慢下来了吗？”男孩：“紧紧抱我一下...” 女孩紧紧拥抱了他一下女孩：“现在你可以慢下来了吧？”男孩：“你可以脱下我的头盔并自己戴上吗？它让我感到不舒服，还干扰我驾车。” 第二天，报纸报道：一辆摩托车因为刹车失灵而撞毁在一幢建筑物上，车上有两个人，一个死亡，一个幸存... 驾车的男孩知道刹车失灵，但他没有让女孩知道，因为那样会让女孩感到害怕。相反，他让女孩最后一次说她爱他，最后一次拥抱他，并让她戴上自己的头盔，结果，女孩活着，他自己死了...

② lovejessestuart全文

爱
作者 杰斯·斯图亚特

昨天，当明朗的太阳照耀在枯萎的玉米上时，我的父亲和我走在新开垦的土地边，准备做一个栅栏。牛群在悬崖上不断从栗子橡树中穿过，并踩踏玉米苗。它们咬掉玉米苗的顶端，踏碎玉米的须茬。
我的父亲走在玉米地田梗上。鲍勃，我们的牧羊犬，走在我父亲的前面。我们听到一只地松鼠在空地边缘的枯树的树顶上虚张声势地吹着口哨。“来吧，干掉他，鲍勃。”我的父亲说道。他举起一根玉米苗，苗的根部已经枯萎脱水，地松鼠为了遗留在柔嫩根部的甜玉米粒把它们挖了出来。这是一个干燥的春季，泥土里的玉米一直长得很好，已经发芽了。地松鼠喜欢这种玉米，它们把一行行玉米挖开，把甜玉米粒吃掉，幼嫩的玉米桔梗就这样被杀死了，我们不得不重新种植。
我看到父亲一直让鲍勃去追咬那些地松鼠，他跳过了玉米行，开始向地松鼠跑去。我也向空地跑去，鲍勃正在那儿又跳又叫。尘埃在我们脚后形成一个小小的漩涡，大团的尘埃跟着我们。
“是一条公的黑蛇，”我父亲说，“杀了他，鲍勃！杀了他，鲍勃！”
鲍勃跳起来抓住蛇以便让他不能动弹，同时来个措手不及。鲍勃已经在今年春天杀了28条铜斑蛇，他知道怎样杀死一条蛇，但他并没有急于杀死这一条。他从容且出色地完成他的工作。
“别杀了这条蛇，”我说，“黑蛇是无害的蛇，它会杀有毒的蛇，它会杀铜斑蛇。比起猫，它在田里能抓更多的老鼠。”
我看到那条蛇没有攻击狗的意图。蛇想逃跑，鲍勃不会让它得逞。我想知道它为什么会爬到大山肥沃的黑土地上来；我想知道它为什么要爬过那些栗子橡树苗和悬崖上纠结的绿色石南。我看着蛇，它正抬起它漂亮的脑袋，作为对鲍勃一次跳跃的回应。“它不是一条公蛇，”我说，“它是一条母蛇，看它喉咙上的白斑。”
“蛇是我的敌人，”我的父亲严厉地说，“我讨厌任何一条蛇。杀了它，鲍勃。去把它抓过来，而且不准再和它玩。”
鲍勃服从了我的父亲，我讨厌看到他刺穿这条蛇的喉咙。悬在阳光中的她，看起来美丽异常。
鲍勃抓着她喉咙上的白斑，她那像风中牛尾般长长的身体被撕裂了。他是在逆风处撕裂那身体的。血从她弧度优美的喉咙喷射而出。什么东西击中了我的胳膊，像小球一样。鲍勃把蛇仍在了地上，我看到了那个打在我胳膊上的东西。
是蛇蛋，鲍勃把它们从她的身体里抛了出来。她是要去沙丘产卵，在那儿太阳是一只抱蛋的母鸡，它将给它们温暖并孵化它们。
鲍勃抓起她那躺在泥土上的身体，血液在那堆灰色的土壤上蔓延开来。她的身体还在因疼痛来回翻滚，她就像一棵被新燃的火威胁着的绿草般动作着。鲍勃多次恶意地投掷她的身体。他在逆风处撕裂她柔软的身体，她现在柔软得如同一根风中的鞋带。鲍勃把她千穿百孔的身体扔回了沙子上。她颤抖得像一片飘在懒洋洋的风中的树叶，随后，她满是窟窿的身体终于完全静止不动了。鲜血在蛇周围肥沃的土地上流了一片。
“看看这蛋，看见没？”我的父亲说道。我们数了数，一共37枚。我捡起一只蛋并把它捧在我的手心里。仅仅在一分中前，里面是一条生命。这是一颗不成熟的种子，它不能被孵化，太阳母亲无法用温暖的土地将它孵化。在我手中的这枚蛋几乎只有一颗鹌鹑蛋的大小，它的壳薄而坚韧，壳下似乎是一只水蛋。
“嗯，鲍勃，我想你现在明白这条蛇为什么不能反抗了。”我说，“这就是生活，弱肉强食，即使在人类之间，也是如此。狗杀死蛇，鸟儿杀死蝴蝶。人类征服一切，为取乐而杀戮。”
鲍勃气喘吁吁，他带头返回我们的屋子。他的舌头从嘴巴里伸了出来，他累了，他那外套一样的茸毛让他发热。
他的舌头几乎触到了干燥的地面以及那上面由白色泡沫形成的白斑。我们朝屋子走去，我和父亲都没有说话。我仍想着那条死去的蛇。太阳正从栗树岭那儿缓缓西下，一只云雀正在歌唱。对于一直云雀而言，现在唱歌已经有些晚了。红色的晚霞在我们牧场山的松树上方漂浮。我的父亲站在道路的旁边，他黑色的头发随风而动，在天蓝色的风中，他的脸红红的，他的眼睛直直看着下沉的太阳。
“我的父亲讨厌蛇。”我思忖。
我想到女人分娩时体会到的痛苦；我想到她们为了拯救自己的孩子将怎样竭力抗争；随后，我想到了那条蛇。我觉得有这样想法的自己非常愚蠢。
今天早上，我的父亲和我在鸡鸣中醒来。他说人必须在鸡鸣中起床，然后开始一天的工作。我们拿着柱坑挖掘机，斧头，小锄头，测量杆和鹤嘴锄。我们的目的地是空地边缘。鲍勃没有跟来。
露水还挂在玉米上。我的父亲扛着柱坑挖掘机走在后面，我走在前面。起风了，这晨风呼吸起来非常舒爽，这风让人觉得自己好似能举着山的边沿把山颠倒过来。
我走出玉米行，来到我们昨天下午到过的地方。我看着我前面的地方，我看到了一些东西。我看到它在移动，它像一根绕着胶盘移动的巨大的黑绳子。“别动！”我对父亲说，“这里有一条公的大黑蛇。”他上前一步站在了我的旁边，睁大了眼睛。
“你是怎么知道他是公的？”他说。
“你现在看到这条公蛇了。”我说，“好好看看他！他正躺在他死去的伴侣旁。他找到她了。他，也许，昨天就跟随她而来了。”
公蛇跟随着她的足迹一路而来，直至她的厄运。他晚上就到了，在星空造的屋顶下，当颤抖的绿云遮挡了月亮发出的光芒时。他发现自己的爱人死了。他盘在她身边，然而她已经死去。
公蛇抬起头跟在绕着死蛇走动的我们的后面。他将与我们战斗到死，他将与鲍勃战斗到死。“拿根棍子来，”我的父亲说，“把他扔到山的那边，这样鲍勃就不会发现他了。你有见过什么会因此打架的吗？我听说这种蛇会，但这是我第一次亲眼见到。”我拿来一根棍子，把他扔到了悬崖那边带着露水的豆芽里。

——————
下附原文：
Love by Jesse Stuart （英语短篇小说）
Yesterday when the bright sun blazed down on the wilted corn my father and I walked around the edge of the new ground to plan a fence. The cows kept coming through the chestnut oaks on the cliff and running over the young corn. They bit off the tips of the corn and [trample]trampled[/w] down the stubble.

My father walked in the cornbalk. Bob, our Collie, walked in front of my father. We heard a ground squirrel whistle down over the bluff among the dead treetops at the clearing’s edge. "Whoop, take him, Bob." said my father. He lifted up a young stalk of corn, with wilted dried roots, where the ground squirrel had g it up for the sweet grain of corn left on its tender roots. This has been a dry spring and the corn has kept well in the earth where the grain has sprouted. The ground squirrels love this corn. They dig up rows of it and eat the sweet grains. The young corn stalks are killed and we have to replant the corn.

I could see my father keep sicking Bob after the ground squirrel. He jumped over the corn rows. He started to run toward the ground squirrel. I, too, started running toward the clearing’s edge where Bob was jumping and barking. The st flew in tiny swirls behind our feet. There was a big cloud of st behind us.

"It’s a big bull blacksnake," said my father. "Kill him, Bob! Kill him, Bob!"
Bob was jumping and snapping at the snake so as to make it strike and throw itself off guard. Bob has killed twenty-eight copperheads this spring. He knows how to kill a snake. He doesn’t rush to do it. He takes his time and does the job well.
"Let’s don’t kill the snake," I said. "A blacksnake is a harmless snake. It kills poison snakes. It kills the copperhead. It catches more mice from the fields than a cat."

I could see the snake didn’t want to fight the dog. The snake wanted to get away. Bob wouldn’t let it. I wondered why it was crawling toward a heap of black loamy earth at the bench of the hill. I wondered why it had come from the chestnut oak sprouts and the matted greenbriars on the cliff. I looked as the snake lifted its pretty head in response to one of Bob’s jumps. "It’s not a bull blacksnake," I said. "It’s a she-snake. Look at the white on her throat."

"A snake is an enemy to me," my father snapped. "I hate a snake. Kill it, Bob. Go in there and get that snake and quit playing with it!"
Bob obeyed my father. I hated to see him take this snake by the throat. She was so beautifully poised in the sunlight.

Bob grabbed the white patch on her throat. He cracked her long body like an ox whip in the wind. He cracked it against the wind only. The blood spurted from her fine-curved throat. Something hit against my legs like pellets. Bob threw the snake down. I looked to see what had struck my legs.
It was snake eggs. Bob had slung them from her body. She was going to the sand heap to lay her eggs, where the sun is the setting-hen that warms them and hatches them.

Bob grabbed her body there on the earth where the red blood was running down on the gray-piled loam. Her body was still writhing in pain. She acted like a greenweed held over a new-ground fires. Bob slung her viciously many times. He cracked her limp body against the wind. She was now limber as a shoestring in the wind. Bob threw her riddled body back on the sand. She quivered like a leaf in the lazy wind, then her riddled body lay perfectly still. The blood covered the loamy earth around the snake.

"Look at the eggs, won’t you?" said my father. We counted thirty-seven eggs. I picked an egg up and held it in my hand. Only a minute ago there was life in it. It was an immature seed. It would not hatch. Mother sun could not incubate it on the warm earth. The egg I held in my hand was almost the size of a quail’s egg. The shell on it was thin and tough and the egg appeared under the surface to be a watery egg.

"Well, Bob, I guess you see now why this snake couldn’t fight." I said. "It is life. Stronger devour the weaker even among human beings. Dog kills snake. Snake kills birds. Birds kill the butterflies. Man conquers all, too, kills for sport."
Bob was panting. He walked ahead of us back to the house. His tongue was out of his mouth. He was tired. He was hot under his shaggy coat of hair.

His tongue nearly touched the dry dirt and white flecks of foam dripped from it. We walked toward the house. Neither my father nor I spoke. I still thought of the dead snake. The sun was going down over the chestnut ridge. A lark was singing. It was late for a lark to sing. The red evening clouds floated above the pine trees on our pasture hill. My father stood beside the path. His black hair was moved by the wind. His face was red in the blue wind of day. His eyes looked toward the sinking sun.
"And my father hates a snake,"I thought.
I thought about the agony women know of giving birth. I thought about how they will fight to save their children. ThenI thought of the snake. I thought it was silly of me to think such thoughts.

This morning my father and I got up with the chickens. He says one has to get up with the chickens to do a day’s work. We got the posthole digger, ax, spud, measuring pole and the mat-tock. We started for the clearing’s edge. Bob didn’t go along.
The dew was on the corn. My father walked behind with the posthole digger across his shoulder. I walked in front. The wind was blowing. It was a good morning wind to breathe and a wind that makes one feel like he can get under the edge of a hill and heave the whole hill upside down.

I walked out the corn row where we had come yesterday afternoon. I looked in front of me. I saw something. I saw it move. It was moving like a huge black rope winds around a windlass. "Steady," I says to my father. "Here is the bull blacksnake." He took one step up beside me and stood. His eyes grew wide apart.

"What do you know about this," he said.
"You have seen the bull blacksnake now." I said. "Take a good look at him! He is lying beside his dead mate. He has come to her. He, perhaps, was on her trail yesterday."
The male snake had trailed her to her doom. He had come in the night, under the roof of stars, as the moon shed rays of light on the quivering clouds of green. He had found his lover dead. He was coiled beside her, and she was dead.

The bull blacksnake lifted his head and followed us as we walked around the dead snake. He would have fought us to his death. He would have fought Bob to his death. "Take a stick," said my father, "and throw him over the hill so Bob won’t find him. Did to you ever see anything to beat that? I’ve heard they’d do that. But this is my first time to see it." I took a stick and threw him over the bank into the dewy sprouts on the cliff.

杰斯·斯图亚特（Jesse Stuart,1907-1984）美国小说家、诗人。他的诗集"Man with a Bull-Tongue Plow"（1934）被爱尔兰诗人乔治·威廉 ·卢梭称为继沃特·惠特曼的《草叶集》之后最伟大的诗作。他的小说代表作有"Taps for Private Tussie"(1943)，著有多部自传体小说，国内关于他的介绍和作品译介很少，故在此还是用了其作品题目原文。

③ 一篇英文短篇小说的英文版简介，应付作业啊，一定要快

《The Million Pound Note》：

In 1903, American seaman Henry Adams (Gregory Peck) is stranded penniless in England and gets caught up in an unusual wager between two wealthy, eccentric brothers, Oliver (Ronald Squire) and Roderick Montpelier (Wilfrid Hyde-White). They persuade the Bank of England to issue a one million pound banknote, which they present to Adams in an envelope (only telling him that it contains some money). The reason for this is that Oliver believes that the mere existence of the note will enable the possessor to obtain whatever he needs, while Roderick contends that it would actually have to be spent for it to be of any use.

Once Adams gets over the shock of discovering how much the note is worth, he tries to return it to the brothers, but is told that they have left for a month. He then finds a letter in the envelope, explaining the wager and promising him a job if he can avoid spending the note for the month.

At first, everything goes as Oliver had predicted. Adams is mistaken for an eccentric millionaire and has no trouble getting food, clothes and a hotel suite on credit, just by showing his note. The story of the note is reported in the newspapers. Adams is welcomed into exclusive social circles, meeting the American ambassador and English aristocracy. He becomes very friendly with Portia Lansdowne (Jane Griffiths), the niece of the Duchess of Cromarty.

Then, fellow American Lloyd Hastings (Hartley Power) asks him to back a business venture. Hastings tells Adams that he does not have to put up any money himself; the mere association will allow Hastings to raise the money he needs to start up a gold mine by selling shares.

Trouble arises when the Duke of Frognal (A. E. Matthews), who had been unceremoniously evicted from the suite Adams now occupies, hides the note as a joke. When Adams is unable to proce the note, panic breaks out amongst the shareholders and Adams' creditors. Fortunately, all is straightened out
, and Adams is able to return the note to the Montpelier brothers at the end of the month.

④ 关于“友谊”的短篇英文小说

Friendship is indispensable to people's life. A man without friends is an angel without wings, whose life will suffer in the long tolerance of loneliness and depression. Friendship is the mother of our psyche, who'll warm her kid when hurt occurs. We have much to share with our friends in life, perplexity, excitement, bitterness etc. Alas, it's magnificent to maintain a genuine friendship.

It takes many special qualities to make a friend. Understanding should come first. Only when we get a better understanding of each other can we gain an authentic and meaningful friendship. We may find our hobbies of common interests. This feeling of affinity gets us closer and closer.

It also takes a special kind of love that seems to know no end. Never hesitate to show your heartfelt care and kindness to your friend when he/she is in trouble. Love is not selfish. Love is endowed by God that we should treasure all our life.

Tolerance is the third essential part in friendship. We are absolutely different persons. This indivial distinction may cause conflict between us in every aspect of our life. Don't immerse ourself in this infliction too long. Try to tolerant his/her in an introspective mood. Saints are not perfect, let alone those ordinary people like us. Afterwards, we should get a good communication. Never shy to confess.

Understanding, love and tolerance are the first three essences that comes to an authentic friendship. Other qualities are also concerned such as thoughtfulness, trust and patience. Remember, friendship is your psyche's guard, treasure it
友谊是不可缺少的人们的生活。没有朋友的人没有翅膀的天使,他的生活将会受到在长期的宽容的孤独和抑郁。友谊是我们的母亲心理,谁来温暖自己孩子什么时候伤害的发生。我们有很多一起分享我们的朋友在生活中,困惑,兴奋,苦等。唉,它却是很伟大的维持一个真正的友谊。

要用许多特殊性质为了结交新朋友。理解能先来。只有当我们更好的了解对方就会给我们带来一个真正的和有意义的友谊。我们可能会发现共同利益的业余爱好。这种感觉的亲和力让我们越来越近。

它也需要一种特别的爱似乎知道没有终点的。不要犹豫,尽管显示你并给你的朋友的关心和体贴。当他/她有麻烦了。爱不是自私。爱是赋予上帝,我们应该珍惜一生。

宽容是第三中最重要的组成部分的友谊。我们完全不同的人。这个人的区别可能会引起冲突,在各方面我们生命中的一个大境界了。不要让自己在这所施加的时间太长了。试着宽容他/她的在一个发人深省的心情。圣徒并不完美,更不用说那些一个像我们这样的普通人。后来,我们应该好好沟通。不害羞的承认。

理解、爱和宽容三个基本要素是第一个是一个真正的友谊。其他的品质也对此表示关注,如体贴、信任和耐心。记住,友谊是心灵的后卫,珍惜它

⑤ 推荐一些英文短篇小说

相信你会喜欢这篇短小的小说的。

Appointment With Love －－By Sulamith Ish-Kishor

Six minutes to six, said the great round clock over the information booth in Grand Central Station. The tall young Army lieutenant who had just come from the direction of the tracks lifted his sunburned face, and his eyes narrowed to note the exact time. His heart was pounding with a beat that shocked him because he could not control it. In six minutes, he would see the woman who had filled such a special place in his life for the past 13 months, the woman he had never seen, yet whose written words had been with him and sustained him unfailingly.
He placed himself as close as he could to the information booth, just beyond the ring of people besieging the clerks...
Lieutenant Blandford remembered one night in particular, the worst of the fighting, when his plane had been caught in the midst of a pack of Zeros. He had seen the grinning face of one of the enemy pilots.
In one of his letters, he had confessed to her that he often felt fear, and only a few days before this battle, he had received her answer: "Of course you fear...all brave men do. Didn't King David know fear? That's why he wrote the 23rd Psalm. Next time you doubt yourself, I want you to hear my voice reciting to you: 'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for Thou art with me.'" And he had remembered; he had heard her imagined voice, and it had renewed his strength and skill.
Now he was going to hear her real voice. Four minutes to six. His face grew sharp.
Under the immense, starred roof, people were walking fast, like threads of color being woven into a gray web. A girl passed close to him, and Lieutenant Blandford started. She was wearing a red flower in her suit lapel, but it was a crimson sweet pea, not the little red rose they had agreed upon. Besides, this girl was too young, about 18, whereas Hollis Meynell had frankly told him she was 30. "Well, what of it?" he had answered. "I'm 32." He was 29.
His mind went back to that book - the book the Lord Himself must have put into his hands out of the hundreds of Army library books sent to the Florida training camp. Of Human Bondage, it was; and throughout the book were notes in a woman's writing. He had always hated that writing-in habit, but these remarks were different. He had never believed that a woman could see into a man's heart so tenderly, so understandingly. Her name was on the bookplate: Hollis Meynell. He had got hold of a New York City telephone book and found her address. He had written, she had answered. Next day he had been shipped out, but they had gone on writing.
For 13 months, she had faithfully replied, and more than replied. When his letters did not arrive she wrote anyway, and now he believed he loved her, and she loved him.
But she had refused all his pleas to send him her photograph. That seemed rather bad, of course. But she had explained: "If your feeling for me has any reality, any honest basis, what I look like won't matter. Suppose I'm beautiful. I'd always be haunted by the feeling that you had been taking a chance on just that, and that kind of love would disgust me. Suppose I'm plain (and you must admit that this is more likely). Then I'd always fear that you were going on writing to me only because you were lonely and had no one else. No, don't ask for my picture. When you come to New York, you shall see me and then you shall make your decision. Remember, both of us are free to stop or to go on after that - whichever we choose..."
One minute to six - Lieutenant Blandford's heart leaped higher than his plane had ever done.
A young woman was coming toward him. Her figure was long and slim; her blond hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears. Her eyes were blue as flowers, her lips and chin had a gentle firmness. In her pale green suit, she was like springtime come alive.
He started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was wearing no rose, and as he moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips.
"Going my way, soldier?" she murmured.
Uncontrollably, he made one step closer to her. Then he saw Hollis Meynell.
She was standing almost directly behind the girl, a woman well past 40, her graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump; her thick-ankled feet were thrust into low-heeled shoes. But she wore a red rose in the rumpled lapel of her brown coat.
The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away.
Blandford felt as though he were being split in two, so keen was his desire to follow the girl, yet so deep was his longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned and upheld his own; and there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible; he could see that now. Her gray eyes had a warm, kindly twinkle.
Lieutenant Blandford did not hesitate. His fingers gripped the small worn, blue leather of Of Human Bondage, which was to identify him to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, something perhaps even rarer than love - a friendship for which he had been and must ever be grateful.
He squared his broad shoulders, saluted and held the book out toward the woman, although even while he spoke he felt shocked by the bitterness of his disappointment.
"I'm Lieutenant John Blandford, and you - you are Miss Meynell. I'm so glad you could meet me. May...may I take you to dinner?"
The woman's face broadened in a tolerant smile. "I don't know what this is all about, son," she answered. "That young lady in the green suit - the one who just went by - begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said that if you asked me to go out with you, I should tell you that she's waiting for you in that big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of a test. I've got two boys with Uncle Sam myself, so I didn't mind to oblige you."

⑥ 需要一篇英语短文，题目是“Love stories"有关爱的故事，要记叙文形式，300字即可，晚上11点之前需要！

love of our parents

• Remember when I was a child, whenever I have uncovered quilt the bad habit of sleeping, cause once fell ill with a fever, after mom and dad know worried, though it was already at eleven o 'clock at night, outside also mingled with underground with rain, but mom and dad still hesitate zone I go to see a doctor. After you come back, they in order not to let me catch a cold again ring sleep, both of them stood beside me. When I wake up in the middle of the night to see they did not even cover the quilt fell asleep, maybe it's because I'm too tired to take care of this. I couldn't help surges of thick warm current in my heart, want to give them cover the quilt, when my body move, immediately woke up, they see my disease good many, long sigh of relief, finally a smile on his face. This is mom and dad care me, love me. I hope I will work harder, with excellent results to repay their parents love and care for me.

⑦ 有关于love的英语故事，要短小，200个单词左右 这个爱不限于爱情，也可以是关于亲情的

LION demanded the daughter of a woodcutter in marriage. The
Father, unwilling to grant, and yet afraid to refuse his request,
hit upon this expedient to rid himself of his importunities. He
expressed his willingness to accept the Lion as the suitor of his
daughter on one condition: that he should allow him to extract
his teeth, and cut off his claws, as his daughter was fearfully
afraid of both. The Lion cheerfully assented to the proposal.
But when the toothless, clawless Lion returned to repeat his
request, the Woodman, no longer afraid, set upon him with his
club, and drove him away into the forest.

⑧ 第一人称英文短篇爱情故事

Wall Between Worlds

I RECALL upon a time. A time long before we knew of you Humans, or the existence of life Beyond our world. A time in which I knew of no others. A time before I broke into this world...

In that old world, darkness reigned — a darkness that was darker than would be a starless sky. There was silence, as well, save for the quick thumping of my heart, echoed by four other thumpings, just as quick. And, above them all, a distant, stronger thumping. I seemed to float in that world, in an envelope of warmth and comfort.

That world, however, did not remain dark for long. Faint outlines of shadows soon appeared on the wall that enclosed me. There was no thought in my mind wondering about those shadows. Neither a thought nor a dream occurred to me in that time as to what was beyond that wall, or that there even existed anything beyond that wall. This was my world — the world. And it ended at that wall. I was its sole occupant.

There were other things, though, that I began to notice in time. Things that were attached to me. They twitched — four legs, my tail — in a reflexive test movement. I began to hear voices. I understood not what they were saying, but the comfort that accompanied the voices rivaled that which enveloped me in this world. A gentle croon rumbled against my world, the soothing vibrations rippled around me. I tried to call back, and it came out as a sharp peep.

One of the voices said something. Just as before, I understood not what it said. I did, however, understand the ever-so-soft cushion of love that swept over me. I basked in it as I went to sleep.

*

The world soon became too small for me. I became cramped against the wall that encircled me. I pressed my head against it, trying to make my world bigger. But, the wall would not give way. I tried again. Then again, pressing harder and harder against the wall that surrounded me. I struggled even as I heard within my mind those same voices as before, accompanied by those same feelings of comfort and affection. Encouraged by those voices, I continued struggling against the wall. It ticked and ticked. Then, suddenly, a crack exploded around me and my head pushed through.

From that first break, what remained of the wall followed, shattering around me — the wall that had been the limit of my world. It released me onto something warm and soft. I opened my eyes, then snapped them shut against the bright yellow light that assaulted my eyes. But, I had to see my new surroundings. I opened my eyes again, squinting against the sudden brightness. I turned my head this way and that from where I laid on my belly, wings too small to fly, glistening in the light, drooped to the sides. I hardly knew where to look first. The warm-glowing sand beneath me, the ragged stone walls with certain areas providing light.

Having accepted that old wall to be the extent of the world, with neither a thought nor a dream of what lay beyond, I was overwhelmed at the sudden revelation that there existed a much larger world. I looked down, confirming with the sight of the fragments of my old world that I had indeed broken out.

I found four others like me resting on the sand nearby. Two of the others lay together while the other two were busy munching on the old walls of their own worlds.

Then, I heard the voice again — the same as I had heard from within my old world. I still could understand not what the voice was saying. Except for the last word: “Varthikes.” It was my name.

From my clutchmates I raised my eyes to see two much larger versions of the others. The voice spoke again as they looked down at me through glowing, golden eyes. And, from those eyes poured forth the same soft feelings of comfort and affection as had I felt from within my world.

I chirped in reply, and sent back my love and security. Just as I had recognized my name, I knew these two were my virsem — my “parents.”

As a second voice spoke, an ache in my belly cried for attention. I was hungry, and I was now cut off from the continual nourishment I had received from within my world. I found on the nesting sand the fragments of the wall of my old world. I pounced on them and devoured them. I used my small teeth for the first time to break the larger fragments into manageable pieces, moving my flexible tongue to transfer the pieces to my throat, which stimulated the muscles there to greedily send the pieces down to my begging stomach.

Soon, all the sizable fragments were gone, and I was exhausted now from the efforts and excitement of breaking out of my old world. I gathered myself with my four clutchmates. Resting my head on my forearms, I closed my eyes and slept for the first time in this new world.

I would, in the cycles to follow my hatching, discover just how much bigger was this new world than the old. So much bigger with so many others like me. I would learn also of the abundance of life that shared this world. A wall of its own I would discover this world to have. And, like the one that had enveloped my old world, this wall would also one sunrise — one day — be breached.

⑨ 英文短篇小说 原创

Three Passions I have Lived For
Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable pity for the suffering of mankind. These passions, like great winds, have blown me hither and thither, in a wayward course over a deep ocean of anguish, reaching to the very verge of despair.
I have sought love, first, because it brings ecstasy—ecstasy so great that I would often have sacrificed all the rest of my life for a few hours for this joy. I have sought it, next, because it relieves loneliness—that terrible loneliness in which one shivering consciousness looks over the rim of the world into the cold unfathomable lifeless abyss. I have sought it, finally, because in the union of love I have seen, in a mystic miniature, the prefiguring vision of the heaven that saints and poets have imagined. This is what I sought, and though it might seem too good for human life, this is what—at last—I have found.
With equal passion I have sought knowledge. I have wished to understand the hearts of men. I have wished to know why the stars shine…A little of this, but not much, I have achieved.
Love and knowledge, so far as they were possible, led upward toward the heavens. But always pity brought me back to earth. Echoes of cries of pain reverberate in my heart. Children in famine, victims tortured by oppressors, helpless old people a hated burden to their sons, and the whole world of loneliness, poverty, and pain make a mockery of what human life should be. I long to alleviate the evil, but I cannot, and I too suffer.
This has been my life. I have found it worth living, and would gladly live it again if the chance were offered me.

吾之三愿

贝特兰·罗素

吾生三愿，纯朴却激越：一曰渴望爱情，二曰求索知识，三曰悲悯吾类之无尽苦难。此三愿，如疾风，迫吾无助飘零于苦水深海之上，直达绝望之彼岸。
吾求爱，盖因其赐吾狂喜——狂喜之剧足令吾舍此生而享其片刻；吾求爱，亦因其可驱寂寞之感，吾人每生寂寞之情辄兢兢俯视天地之缘，而见绝望之无底深渊；吾求爱还因若得爱，即可窥视圣哲诗人所见之神秘天国。此吾生之所求，虽虑其之至美而恐终不为凡人所得，亦可谓吾之所得也。
吾求知亦怀斯激情。吾愿闻人之所思，亦愿知星之何以闪光……吾仅得此而已，无他。
爱与知并力，几携吾入天国之门，然终为悲悯之心拖拽未果。痛苦之吟常萦绕吾心：受饥饿之婴，遭压迫之民，为儿女遗弃之无助老叟，加之天下之孤寂、贫穷、苦痛，具令吾类之生难以卒睹。吾愿穷毕生之力释之，然终不能遂愿，因亦悲极。
吾生若此而已，然吾颇感未枉此生；若得天允，当乐而重为之。

其他这里去看：http://www.it-jobs.cn/dede/html/englishnovel/yingyuwenzhai/index.html

⑩ 要一段欧亨利的小说爱的牺牲（A Service Of Love)的英语故事简介和读后感总的大概150个单词

1862年9月11日，美国最著名的短篇小说家之一欧·亨利（O.Henry）出生于美国北卡罗来纳州一个小镇。曾被评论界誉为曼哈顿桂冠散文作家和美国现代短篇小说之父。他出身于美国北卡罗来纳州格林斯波罗镇一个医师家庭。父亲是医生。他原名威廉·西德尼·波特(William Sydney Porter)。他所受教育不多，15岁便开始在药房当学徒，20岁时由于健康原因去得克萨斯州的一个牧场当了两年牧牛了，积累了对西部生活的亲身经验。此后，他在得克萨斯做过不同的工作，包括在奥斯汀银行当出纳员。他还办过一份名为《滚石》的幽默周刊，并在休斯敦一家日报上发表幽默小说和趣闻逸事。1887年，亨利结婚并生了一个女儿。 正当他的生活颇为安定之时，却发生了一件改变他命运的事情。1896年，奥斯汀银行指控他在任职期间盗用资金。他为了躲避受审，逃往洪都拉斯。1897年，后因回家探视病危的妻子被捕入狱，判处5年徒刑。在狱中曾担任药剂师，他在银行工作时，曾有过写作的经历，担任监狱医务室的药剂师后开始认真写作。他开始以欧·亨利为笔名写作短篇小说，于《麦克吕尔》杂志发表。1901年，因“行为良好”提前获释，来到纽约专事写作。 欧·亨利在大概十年的时间内创作了短篇小说共有300多篇，收入《白菜与国王》(1904)、《四百万》(1906)、《西部之心》(1907)、《市声》(1908)、《滚石》(1913)等集子，其中以描写纽约曼哈顿市民生活的作品为最著名。他把那儿的街道、小饭馆、破旧的公寓的气氛渲染得十分逼真，故有“曼哈顿的桂冠诗人”之称。他曾以骗子的生活为题材，写了不少短篇小说。作者企图表明道貌岸然的上流社会里，有不少人就是高级的骗子，成功的骗子。欧·亨利对社会与人生的观察和分析并不深刻，有些作品比较浅薄，但他一生困顿，常与失意落魄的小人物同甘共苦，又能以别出心裁的艺术手法表现他们复杂的感情。他的作品构思新颖，语言诙谐，结局常常出人意外；又因描写了众多的人物，富于生活情趣，被誉为“美国生活的幽默网络全书”。因此，他最出色的短篇小说如《爱的牺牲》(A Service of Love)、《警察与赞美诗》(The Cop and the Anthem)、《带家具出租的房间》(The Furnished Room)、《麦琪的礼物》(The Gift of the Magi)、《最后一片藤叶》（The Last Leaf）等都可列入世界优秀短篇小说之中。他的文字生动活泼，善于利用双关语、讹音、谐音和旧典新意，妙趣横生,被喻为[含泪的微笑]。他还以准确的细节描写，制造与再现气氛，特别是大都会夜生活的气氛。欧·亨利还以擅长结尾闻名遐迩，美国文学界称之为“欧·亨利式的结尾”他善于戏剧性地设计情节，埋下伏笔，作好铺垫，勾勒矛盾，最后在结尾处突然让人物的心理情境发生出人意料的变化，或使主人公命运陡然逆转，使读者感到豁然开朗，柳暗花明，既在意料之外，又在情理之中，不禁拍案称奇，从而造成独特的艺术魅力。欧·亨利把小说的灵魂全都凝聚在结尾部分，让读者在前的似乎是平淡无奇的而又是诙谐风趣的娓娓动听的描述中，不知不觉地进入作者精心设置的迷宫，直到最后，忽如电光一闪，才照亮了先前隐藏着的一切，仿佛在和读者捉迷藏，或者在玩弄障眼法，给读者最后一个惊喜。在欧·亨利之前，其他短篇小说家也已经这样尝试过这种出乎意料的结局。但是欧·亨利对此运用得更为经常，更为自然，也更为纯熟老到。欧·亨利给美国的短篇小说带来新气息，他的作品因而久享盛名，并具有世界影响。美国自1918年起“欧·亨利纪念奖”，以奖励每年度的最佳短篇小说，由此可见其声望之卓著。在纽约，由于大量佳作出版，他名利双收。他不仅挥霍无度，而且好赌，好酒贪杯。写作的劳累与生活的无节制使他的身体受到严重损伤。1907年，欧·亨利再婚。可惜，第二次婚姻对他来说并没有什么幸福可言。1910年６月３日，他病倒了。两天后，即６月５日，与世长辞，死于肝硬化，年仅48岁。 从题材的性质来看，欧·亨利的作品大致可分为三类。一类以描写美国西部生活为主；一类写的是美国一些大城市的生活；一类则以拉丁美洲生活为对象。这些不同的题材，显然与作者一生中几个主要生活时期的不同经历，有着密切的关系。而三类作品当中，无疑又以描写城市生活的作品数量最多，意义最大。欧·亨利思想的矛盾和他作品的弱点，与他的创作环境有极大关系。即使在他已经成名，受到读者广泛欢迎的时候，他的生活也依然经常处于拮据状态。他曾经直言不讳地说：我是为面包而写作的”。