Quit while you're ahead
I am one of those people who are terrible at saying no.I take on too many projects at once, and spend too much of my time doing things I'd rather not be doing.I get work done, but it's not always the best I can do, or the best way I could spend my time.
That's why my newest goal, both as a professional and a person, is to be a quitter.
Being a quitter isn't being someone who gives up, who doesn't see important things through to the end.I aspire （渴望?） to be the opposite of that.The quitter I want to be is someone who gets out when there's no value in what he's doing, or when that value comes at the expense of something more important.
A friend of mine once told me, "I knew I was an adult when I could stop reading a book, even after getting 500 pages into it." Strange though it sounds, we all tend to do this.We get involved in something, realize we don't want to be a part of it, but keep on going.We say "Well, I've already invested so much time in this, I might as well stick it out."
I propose the opposite: quit as often as possible, regardless of project status or time invested.If you're reading a book, and don't like it, stop reading.Cut your losses, realize that the smartest thing to do is to stop before your losses grow even more, and quit.Instead of reading an entire book you hate, read half of a bad one and half of a good one.Isn't that a better use of your time?
Step back for a second.Let's learn how to say "no" at the beginning, or in the middle, and free up more of our time to do the things we'd like to be doing, and the things actually worth doing. Saying no is hard, and admitting a mistaken yes is even harder.If we do both, we'll start to make sure that we're spending our time creating value, rather than increasing our losses.Let's be quitters together.

1. 1.

   The author wants to be a quitter, because he _____.

   1. A.
      hopes to improve his personality
   2. B.
      wishes to have more time for relaxation
   3. C.
      expects to make more efficient use of his time
   4. D.
      has found it hard to do several things at one time
2. 2.

   In what circumstances does the author suggest quitting is a good idea?

   1. A.
      When you feel tired and need a rest.
   2. B.
      When you know a task cannot be finished.
   3. C.
      When you meet with difficulties along the way in your life.
   4. D.
      When you realize what you are doing is not worth the time.
3. 3.

   If you stop reading a book you hate, the author might think that ______.

   1. A.
      you are wise to cut your losses
   2. B.
      it's a pity that you have wasted so much time
   3. C.
      you should finish a book that you have started
   4. D.
      you should regret choosing the wrong book
4. 4.

   The message the author tries to convey is to ______.

   1. A.
      learn to say no
   2. B.
      live your life to the fullest
   3. C.
      create more value
   4. D.
      stop doing many things at once

When I was fourteen, I earned money in the summer by cutting lawns（草坪）, and within a few weeks I had built up a body of customers. I got to know people by the flowers they planted that I had to remember not to cut down, by the things they lost in the grass or struck in the ground on purpose. I reached the point with most of them when I knew in advance what complaint was about to be spoken, which request was most important. And I learned something about the measure of my neighbors by their preferred method of payment: by the job, by the month—or not at all.

Mr. Ballou fell into the last category, and he always had a reason why. On one day, he had no change for a fifty, on another he was flat out of checks, on another, he was simply out when I knocked on his door. Still, except for the money apart, he was a nice enough guy, always waving or tipping his hat when he’d seen me from a distance. I figured him for a thin retirement check, maybe a work-related injury that kept him from doing his own yard work. Sure, I kept track of the total, but I didn’t worry about the amount too much. Grass was grass, and the little that Mr. Ballou’s property comprised didn’t take long to trim (修剪).

Then, one late afternoon in mid-July, the hottest time of the year, I was walking by his house and he opened the door, mentioned me to come inside. The hall was cool, shaded, and it took my eyes a minute to adjust to the dim light. 

“I owe you,” Mr Ballou said, “but…”

I thought I’d save him the trouble of thinking of a new excuse. “No problem. Don’t worry about it.”

“The bank made a mistake in my account,” he continued, ignoring my words. “It will be cleared up in a day or two. But in the meantime I thought perhaps you could choose one or two volumes for a down payment.

He gestured toward the walls and I saw that books were stacked (堆放) everywhere. It was like a library, except with no order to the arrangement.

“Take your time,” Mr. Ballou encouraged. “Read, borrow, keep, or find something you like. What do you read?”

“I don’t know.” And I didn’t. I generally read what was in front of me, what I could get from the paperback stack at the drugstore, what I found at the library, magazines, the back of cereal boxes, comics. The idea of consciously seeking out a special title was new to me, but, I realized, not without appeal--- so I started to look through the piles of books.

“You actually read all of these?”

“This isn’t much,” Mr. Ballou said. “This is nothing, just what I’ve kept, the ones worth looking at a second time.”

“Pick for me, then.”

He raised his eyebrows, cocked his head, and regarded me as though measuring me for a suit. After a moment, he nodded, searched through a stack, and handed me a dark red hardbound book, fairly thick.

“The Last of the Just,” I read. “By Andre Schwarz-Bart. What’s it about?”

“You tell me,” he said. “Next week.”

I started after supper, sitting outdoors on an uncomfortable kitchen chair. Within a few pages, the yard, the summer, disappeared, and I was plunged into the aching tragedy of the Holocaust, the extraordinary clash of good, represented by one decent man, and evil. Translated from French, the language was elegant, simple, impossible to resist. When the evening light finally failed I moved inside, read all through the night.

To this day, thirty years later, I vividly remember the experience. It was my first voluntary encounter with world literature, and I was amazed by the concentrated power a novel could contain. I lacked the vocabulary, however, to translate my feelings into words, so the next week. When Mr. Ballou asked, “Well?” I only replied, “It was good?”

“Keep it, then,” he said. “Shall I suggest another?”

I nodded, and was presented with the paperback edition of Margaret Mead’s Coming of Age in Samoa (a very important book on the study of the social and cultural development of peoples—anthropology (人类学) ).

To make two long stories short, Mr. Ballou never paid me a cent for cutting his grass that year or the next, but for fifteen years I taught anthropology at Dartmouth College. Summer reading was not the innocent entertainment I had assumed it to be, not a light-hearted, instantly forgettable escape in a hammock (吊床) (though I have since enjoyed many of those, too). A book, if it arrives before you at the right moment, in the proper season, at an internal in the daily business of things, will change the course of all that follows.

1.Before his encounter with Mr. Ballou, the author used to read _____________.

A．anything and everything                  B．only what was given to him

C．only serious novels                      D．nothing in the summer

2.The author found the first book Mr. Ballou gave him _____________.

A．light-hearted and enjoyable               B．dull but well written

C．impossible to put down                   D．difficult to understand

3.From what he said to the author we can guess that Mr. Ballou _______________.

A．read all books twice                     B．did not do much reading

C．read more books than he kept             D．preferred to read hardbound books

4.The following year the author _______________.

A．started studying anthropology at college

B．continued to cut Mr. Ballou’s lawn

C．spent most of his time lazing away in a hammock

D．had forgotten what he had read the summer before

5.The author’s main point is that _____________.

A．summer jobs are really good for young people

B．you should insist on being paid before you do a job

C．a good book can change the direction of your life

D．books are human beings’ best friends

When I was fourteen, I earned money in the summer by cutting lawns（草坪）, and within a few weeks I had built up a body of customers. I got to know people by the flowers they planted that I had to remember not to cut down, by the things they lost in the grass or struck in the ground on purpose. I reached the point with most of them when I knew in advance what complaint was about to be spoken, which particular request was most important. And I learned something about the measure of my neighbors by their preferred method of payment: by the job, by the month--- or not at all.

Mr. Ballou fell into the last category, and he always had a reason why. On one day, he had no  change for a fifty, on another he was flat out of checks, on another, he was simply out when I knocked on his door. Still, except for the money apart, he was a nice enough guy, always waving or tipping his hat when he’d see me from a distance. I figured him for a thin retirement check, maybe a work-relayed injury that kept him from doing his own yard work. Sure, I kept track of the total, but I didn’t worry about the amount too much. Grass was grass, and the little that Mr. Ballou’s property comprised didn’t take long to trim (修剪).

Then, one late afternoon in mid-July, the hottest time of the year, I was walking by his house and he opened the door, mentioned me to come inside. The hall was cool, shaded, and it took my eyes a minute to adjust to the dim light. 

“ I owe you,” Mr Ballou, “ but…”

I thought I’d save him the trouble of thinking of a new excuse. “ No problem. Don’t worry about it.”

“ The bank made a mistake in my account,” he continued, ignoring my words. “ It will be cleared up in a day or two . But in the meantime I thought perhaps you could choose one or two volumes for a down payment.

He gestured toward the walls and I saw that books were stacked (堆放) everywhere. It was like a library, except with no order to the arrangement.

“ Take your time,” Mr. Ballou encouraged. “Read, borrow, keep. Find something you like. What do you read?”

“ I don’t know.” And I didn’t. I generally read what was in front of me, what I could get from the paperback stack at the drugstore, what I found at the library, magazines, the back of cereal boxes, comics. The idea of consciously seeking out a special title was new to me, but, I realized, not without appeal--- so I started to look through the piles of books.

“ You actually read all of these?”

“ This isn’t much,” Mr. Ballou said. “ This is nothing, just what I’ve kept, the ones worth looking at a second time.”

“ Pick for me, then.”

He raised his eyebrows, cocked his head, and regarded me as though measuring me for a suit. After a moment, he nodded, searched through a stack, and handed me a dark red hardbound book, fairly thick.

“ The Last of the Just,” I read. “ By Andre Schwarz-Bart. What’s it about?” “ You tell me,” he said. “ Next week.”

I started after supper, sitting outdoors on an uncomfortable kitchen chair. Within a few pages, the yard, the summer, disappeared, and I was plunged into the aching tragedy of the Holocaust, the extraordinary clash of good, represented by one decent man, and evil. Translated from French, the language was elegant, simple, impossible to resist. When the evening light finally failed I moved inside, read all through the night,

To this day, thirty years later, I vividly remember the experience. It was my first voluntary encounter with world literature, and I was stunned (震惊) by the concentrated power a novel could contain. I lacked the vocabulary, however, to translate my feelings into words, so the next week. When Mr. Ballou asked, “ Well?” I only replied, “ It was good?”

“ Keep it, then,” he said. “ Shall I suggest another?”

I nodded, and was presented with the paperback edition of Margaret Mead’s Coming of Age in Samoa ( a very important book on the study of the social and cultural development of peoples--- anthropology (人类学) ).

To make two long stories short, Mr. Ballou never paid me a cent for cutting his grass that year or the next, but for fifteen years I taught anthropology at Dartmouth College. Summer reading was not the innocent entertainment I had assumed it to be, not a light-hearted, instantly forgettable escape in a hammock (吊床) ( though I have since enjoyed many of those, too). A book, if it arrives before you at the right moment, in the proper season, at an internal in the daily business of things, will change the course of all that follows.

1..The author thought that Mr. Ballou was ______________.

A. rich but mean                         B. poor but polite

C. honest but forgettable                   D. strong but lazy

2.. Before his encounter with Mr. Ballou, the author used to read _____________.

   A. anything and everything                 B. only what was given to him

   C. only serious novels                     D. nothing in the summer

3.. The author found the first book Mr. Ballou gave him _____________.

   A. light-heated and enjoyable               B. dull but well written

   C. impossible to put down                  D. difficult to understand

4.. From what he said to the author we can gather that Mr. Ballou _______________.

   A. read all books twice                    B. did not do much reading

   C. read more books than he kept             D. preferred to read hardbound books

5.. The following year the author _______________.

   A. started studying anthropology at college    B. continued to cut Mr. Ballou’s lawn

   C. spent most of his time lazing away in a hammock

   D. had forgotten what he had read the summer before

6.. The author’s main point is that _____________.

   A. summer jobs are really good for young people

   B. you should insist on being paid before you do a job

   C. a good book can change the direction of your life

   D. a book is like a garden carried in the pocket.

I am one of those people who are terrible at saying no. I take on too many projects at once, and spend too much of my time doing things I’d rather not be doing. I get stuff done, but it’s not always the best I can do, or the best way I could spend my time.
That’s why my newest goal, both as a professional and a person, is to be a quitter.
Being a quitter isn’t being someone who gives up, who doesn’t see important things through to the end. I desire to be the opposite of that. The quitter I want to be is someone who gets out when there’s no value in what he’s doing, or when that value comes at the expense of something more important.
We get involved in something, realize we don’t want to be a part of it, but keep on going. We say “Well, I’ve already invested so much time in this, I might as well stick it out.” A friend of mine once told me, “I knew I was an adult when I could stop reading a book, even after getting 500 pages into it.” Odd though it sounds, we all tend to do this.
I propose the opposite: quit as often as possible, regardless of project status or time invested. If you’re reading a book, and don’t like it, stop reading. Cut your losses, realize that the smartest thing to do is stop before your losses grow even more, and quit. Instead of reading an entire book you hate, read half of a bad one and half of a good one. Isn’t that a better use of your time?
Step back for a second. Let’s learn how to say “no” at the beginning, or in the middle, and free up more of our time to do the things we’d like to be doing, and the things actually worth doing.
Saying no is hard, and admitting a mistaken yes is even harder. But if we do both, we’ll start to make sure that we’re spending our time creating value, rather than increasing our losses. Let’s be quitters together.
【小题1】The author wants to be a quitter, because he/she        .