seats怎么读

seats

英 [si?ts] 美 [si?ts]

座位，坐处(如椅子等);有…座位的;有…座的;(椅子等的)座部

向…提供座位;(使)就座;坐;落座;可坐…人;能容纳…人

seat的第三人称单数和复数

柯林斯词典

N-COUNT 座椅;椅子;座位

A seat is an object that you can sit on, for example a chair.

Stephen returned to his seat...

斯蒂芬回到自己的座位上。

N-COUNT (椅子等的)座部,椅面

The seat of a chair is the part that you sit on.

The stool had a torn, red plastic seat.

那个凳子的红色塑料座面已经破旧不堪。

VERB 坐下;就座

If you seat yourself somewhere, you sit down.

He waved towards a chair, and seated himself at the desk.

他挥手指了指一把椅子，自己在书桌旁坐了下来。

VERB (房间、车辆)可坐…人，容纳…人

A building or vehicle that seats a particular number of people has enough seats for that number.

The Theatre seats 570.

那个剧院可容纳 570 人。

N-SING (裤子的)臀部

The seat of a piece of clothing is the part that covers your bottom.

Then he got up and brushed off the seat of his jeans.

然后他站起来，拍了拍牛仔裤的臀部。

N-COUNT (国会、议会、参议院中的)席位

When someone is elected to a parliament, congress, or senate, you can say that they, or their party, have won a seat .

Independent candidates won the majority of seats on the local council.

无党派候选人在地方议会选举中赢得了多数席位。

N-COUNT (公司董事会、委员会中的)席位，职位

If someone has a seat on the board of a company or on a committee, they are a member of it.

He has been unsuccessful in his attempt to win a seat on the board of the company.

他始终未能如愿以偿地在公司董事会中谋得一席之地。

N-COUNT (组织、活动的)中心地，所在地;(豪门的)宅邸

The seat of an organization, a wealthy family, or an activity is its base.

Gunfire broke out early this morning around the seat of government in Lagos.

今天凌晨在拉各斯的政府大楼周围发生了枪战。

coloring怎么读

中学英语阅读文章

　阅读可以让我们了解一些道理和增长见识，下面我为广大中学生准备了英语阅读的文章，希望大家喜欢!

　第一篇：母爱的真谛：母亲永远不会后悔!

　Time is running out for my friend. While we are sitting at lunch she casually mentions she and her husband are thinking of starting a family. "We're taking a survey,"she says, half-joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?"

　"It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral2. "I know,"she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous3 holidays..."

　But that's not what I mean at all. I look at my friend, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional4 wound so raw5 that she will be vulnerable6 forever.

　I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without thinking: "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die. I look at her carefully manicured7 nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated8 she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive9 level of a bear protecting her cub10.

　I feel I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed11 by motherhood. She might arrange for child care, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting, and she will think her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline12 to keep from running home, just to make sure her child is all right.

　I want my friend to know that every decision will no longer be routine. That a five-year-old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at a restaurant will become a major dilemma. The issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester13 may be lurking14 in the lavatory15. However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess16 herself constantly17 as a mother.

　Looking at my attractive friend, I want to assure her that eventually18 she will shed the added weight19 of pregnancy20, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her own life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. She would give it up in a moment to save her offspring21, but will also begin to hope for more years?not to accomplish her own dreams?but to watch her children accomplish theirs.

　I want to describe to my friend the exhilaration22 of seeing your child learn to hit a ball. I want to capture23 for her the belly laugh24 of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real it hurts.

　My friend's look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I say finally. Then, squeezing25 my friend's hand, I offer a prayer for her and me and all of the mere mortal women who stumble26 their way into this holiest of callings.

　时光任苒，朋友已经老大不小了。我们坐在一起吃饭的时候，她漫不经心地提到她和她的丈夫正考虑要小孩。?我们正在做一项调查，?她半开玩笑地说。?你觉得我应该要个小孩吗?

　?他将改变你的生活。?我小心翼翼地说道，尽量使语气保持客观。?这我知道。?她答道，?周末睡不成懒觉，再也不能随心所欲休假了

　但我说的绝非这些。我注视着朋友，试图整理一下自己的思绪。我想让她知道她永远不可能在分娩课上学到的东西。我想让她知道：分娩的有形伤疤可以愈合，但是做母亲的情感伤痕却永远如新，她会因此变得十分脆弱。

　我想告诫她：做了母亲后，每当她看报纸时就会情不自禁地联想：?如果那件事情发生在我的孩子身上将会怎样啊!?每一次飞机失事、每一场住宅火灾都会让她提心吊胆。看到那些忍饥挨饿的孩子们的照片时，她会思索：世界上还有什么比眼睁睁地看着自己的孩子饿死更惨的事情呢?我打量着她精修细剪的指甲和时尚前卫的衣服，心里想到：不管她打扮多么考究，做了母亲后，她会变得像护崽的母熊那样原始而不修边幅。

　我觉得自己应该提醒她，不管她在工作上投入了多少年，一旦做了母亲，工作就会脱离常规。她自然可以安排他人照顾孩子，但说不定哪天她要去参加一个非常重要的商务会议，却忍不住想起宝宝身上散发的甜甜乳香。她不得不拼命克制自己，才不致于为了看看孩子是否安然无羔而中途回家。

　我想告诉朋友，有了孩子后，她将再也不能按照惯例做出决定。在餐馆，5岁的儿子想进男厕而不愿进女厕将成为摆在她眼前的一大难题：她将在两个选择之间权衡一番：尊重孩子的独立和性别意识，还是让他进男厕所冒险被潜在的儿童性骚扰者侵害?任凭她在办公室多么果断，作为母亲，她仍经常事后后悔自己当时的决定。

　注视着我的这位漂亮的朋友，我想让她明确地知道，她最终会恢复到怀孕前的体重，但是她对自己的感觉已然不同。她现在视为如此重要的生命将随着孩子的`诞生而变得不那么宝贵。为了救自己的孩子，她时刻愿意献出自己的生命。但她也开始希望多活一些年头，不是为了实现自己的梦想，而是为了看着孩子们美梦成真。

　我想向朋友形容自己看到孩子学会击球时的喜悦之情。我想让她留意宝宝第一次触摸狗的绒毛时的捧腹大笑。我想让她品尝快乐，尽管这快乐真实得令人心痛。

　朋友的表情让我意识到自己已经是热泪盈眶。?你永远不会后悔，?我最后说。然后紧紧地握住朋友的手，为她、为自己、也为每一位艰难跋涉、准备响应母亲职业神圣的召唤的平凡女性献上自己的祈祷。

　第二篇：Words from the Heart说出心里话

　Most people need to hear those "three little words" I love you. Once in a while, they hear them just in time.

　I met Connie the day she was admitted to the hospice1 ward, where I worked as a volunteer. Her husband, Bill, stood nervously nearby as she was transferred from the gurney2 to the hospital bed. Although Connie was in the final stages of her fight against cancer, she was alert and cheerful. We got her settled in. I finished marking her name on all the hospital supplies she would be using, then asked if she needed anything.

　"Oh, yes," she said, "would you please show me how to use the TV? I enjoy the soaps so much and I don't want to get behind on what's happening." Connie was a romantic. She loved soap operas, romance novels and movies with a good love story. As we became acquainted, she confided how frustrating it was to be married 32 years to a man who often called her "a silly woman."

　"Oh, I know Bill loves me," she said, "but he has never been one to say he loves me, or send cards to me." She sighed and looked out the window at the trees in the courtyard. "I'd give anything if he'd say ?I love you,' but it's just not in his nature."

　Bill visited Connie every day. In the beginning, he sat next to the bed while she watched the soaps. Later, when she began sleeping more, he paced up and down the hallway outside her room. Soon, when she no longer watched television and had fewer waking moments, I began spending more of my volunteer time with Bill.

　He talked about having worked as a carpenter and how he liked to go fishing. He and Connie had no children, but they'd been enjoying retirement by traveling, until Connie got sick. Bill could not express his feelings about the fact that his wife was dying.

　One day, over coffee in the cafeteria, I got him on the subject of women and how we need romance in our lives; how we love to get sentimental1 cards and love letters.

　"Do you tell Connie you love her?" I asked (knowing his answer), and he looked at me as if I was crazy.

　"I don't have to," he said. "She knows I do!"

　"I'm sure she knows," I said, reaching over and touching his hands rough, carpenter's hands that were gripping the cup as if it were the only thing he had to hang onto "but she needs to hear it, Bill. She needs to hear what she has meant to you all these years. Please think about it."

　We walked back to Connie's room. Bill disappeared inside, and I left to visit another patient. Later, I saw Bill sitting by the bed. He was holding Connie's hand as she slept. The date was February 12.

　Two days later I walked down the hospice ward at noon. There stood Bill, leaning up against the wall in the hallway, staring at the floor. I already knew from the head nurse that Connie had died at 11 A.M..

　When Bill saw me, he allowed himself to come into my arms for a long time. His face was wet with tears and he was trembling. Finally, he leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath.

　"I have to say something," he said. "I have to say how good I feel about telling her." He stopped to blow his nose. "I thought a lot about what you said, and this morning I told her how much I loved her... and loved being married to her. You shoulda2 seen her smile!"

　I went into the room to say my own good?bye to Connie. There, on the bedside table, was a large Valentine card from Bill. You know, the sentimental kind that says, "To my wonderful wife... I love you."

　大多数人需要听到那?三个小字我爱你。有时他们就会在最需要的时候听到。

　我在康尼住进收容所病房的那天见到了她。我在那儿当义工。把她从轮床抬上病床时，她的丈夫比尔焦虑不安地站在旁边。虽然康尼处于和癌症搏斗的晚期，但她仍然神智清醒，精神愉快。我们把她安顿好。我在医院提供给她使用的所有用品上标上她的名字，然后问她是否需要什么。

　?啊，是的，?她说，?请告诉我怎么用电视好吗?我非常喜欢肥皂剧，想随时跟上进展情况。?康尼是个浪漫的人。她酷爱肥皂剧、浪漫小说和讲述美好爱情故事的**。随着我们越来越熟，她向我吐露说，跟一个经常叫她?傻女人?的男人生活了32年有多么沮丧。

　?唉，我知道比尔爱我，?她说道，?可是他从来不说他爱我，也不给我寄贺卡。?她叹了口气，朝窗外庭院里的树望去。?如果他说声?我爱你?，我愿意付出一切，可这根本不是他的性格。?

　比尔每天都来探望康尼。一开始，康尼看肥皂剧，他就坐在床旁。后来，她睡的时候多了，比尔就在屋外走廊里踱来踱去。不久，康尼不再看电视了，醒的时候也少了，我开始花更多的义工时间和比尔在一起。

　他谈到他一直是个木工，他多么喜欢钓鱼。他和康尼没有孩子，但他们四处旅游，享受着退休生活，直到康尼得病。对他妻子病危这一事实，比尔无法表达他的感受。

　一天，在自助餐厅喝咖啡时，我设法和比尔谈起女人这个话题，谈到生活中我们多么需要浪漫，多想收到充满柔情蜜意的卡片和情书。

　?你跟康尼说你爱她吗?我明知故问。他瞧着我，就好像我有神经病。

　?我没有必要说，?他说道。?她知道我爱她!?

　?我肯定她知道，?我说。我伸出手，触摸着他那双木工粗糙的手。这双手紧握着杯子，似乎它是他需要依附的惟一东西可是她需要听到它，比尔。她需要听到所有这些年来她对你意味什么。请你考虑考虑。?

　我们走回康尼的房间。比尔进了屋，我走开去看望另一个病人。后来，我看见比尔坐在床边。康尼入睡了，他握着她的一只手。那天是2月12日。

　两天后的中午时分，我顺着收容所病房过道向前走着。比尔站在那里，靠着墙，凝视着地面。护士长已经告诉我，康尼在上午11点故去了。