A Red,Red Rose

O My luve’s* like a red, red rose，

That’s newly sprung in June；

O my luve’s like the melodie，

That’s sweetly play’d in tune．

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,

So deep in luve am I；

And I will luve thee still, my dear,

Till a’ the seas gang dry．

Till a’ the seas gang* dry, my dear,

And the rocks melt wi’ the sun；

I will luve thee still, my dear,

While the sands o’ life shall run．

And fare thee weel, my only luve,

And fare thee weel a while!

And I will come again, my luve,

Tho’ it were ten thousand mile!

By Robert Burns

Yes,you can

Experience is not what happens to a man. It is what a man does with what happens to him.　Aldous Huxley

What if at age 46 you were burned beyond recognition in a terrible motorcycle accident, and then four years later were paralyzed from the waist down in an airplane crash? Then, can you imagine yourself becoming a millionaire, a respected public speaker, a happy newlywed and a successful business person? Can you see yourself going white water rafting? Sky diving? Running for political office?

W. Mitchell has done all these things and more after two horrible accidents left his face a quilt of multicolored skin grafts, his hands fingerless and his legs thin and motionless in a wheelchair.

The 16 surgeries Mitchell endured after the motorcycle accident burned more than 65 percent of his body, left him unable to pick up a fork, dial a telephone or go to the bathroom without help. But Mitchell, a former Marine, never believed he was defeated. "I am in charge of my own spaceship," he said. "It's my up, my down. I could choose to see this situation as a setback or a starting point." Six moths later he was piloting a plane again.

Mitchell bought himself a Victorian home in Colorado, some real estate, a plane and a bar. Later he teamed up with two friends and co-founded a wood burning stove company that grew to be Vermont's second largest private employer.

Note

skin grafts：植皮　　Marine：水兵　　real estate：房产

Then four years after the motorcycle accident, the plane Mitchell was piloting crashed back onto the runway during takeoff, crushing Mitchell's 12 thoracic vertebras and permanently paralyzing him from the waist down. "I wondered what the hell was happening to me. What did I do to deserve this?"

Undaunted, Mitchell worked day and night to regain as much independence as possible. He was elected Mayor of Crested Butte, Colorado, to save the town from mineral mining that would ruin its beauty and environment. Mitchell later ran for Congress, turning his odd appearance into an asset with slogans such as, "Not just another pretty face."

Despite his initially shocking looks and physical challenges, Mitchell began white water rafting, he fell in love and married, earned a master's degree in public administration and continued flying, environmental activism and public speaking.

Mitchell's unshakable Positive Mental Attitude has earned him appearances on the "Today Show" and "Good Morning America" as well as feature articles in parade, Time, The New York Times and other publications.

 "Before I was paralyzed, there were 10,000 I could do," Mitchell says. "Now there are 9,000. I can either dwell on the 1,000 I lost or focus on the 9,000 I have left. I tell people that I have had two big bumps in my life. If I have chosen not of the experiences you are having which are pulling you back can be put into a new perspective. You can step back, take a wider view and have a chance to say, "Maybe that isn't such a big deal after all."

Float

“I’ll not be holding up my head in this town,” she began. “You’ve disgraced us all.”
“Hold your tongue, Puss. Can you not see me head is bursting?”
“Coming home drunk with a man like Captain Butler, and singing at the top of your lungs for everyone to hear and

losing all that money.”
“The man is too clever with cards to be a gentleman. He—”
“What will Mother say when she hears?”
He looked up in sudden anguished apprehension.
“You wouldn’t be telling your mother a word and upsetting her, now would you?”
Scarlett said nothing but pursed her lips.
“Think now how ‘twould hurt her and her so gentle.”
“And to think, Pa, that you said only last night I had disgraced the family! Me, with my poor little dance to make

money for the soldiers. Oh, I could cry.”
“Well, don’t,” pleaded Gerald. “ ‘Twould be more than me poor head could stand and sure ‘tis bursting now.”
“And you said that I—”
“Now Puss, now Puss, don’t you be hurt at what your poor old father said and him not meaning a thing and not

understanding a thing! Sure, you’re a fine well-meaning girl, I’m sure.”
“And wanting to take me home in disgrace.”
“Ah, darling, I wouldn’t be doing that. ‘Twas to tease you. You won’t be mentioning the money to your mother and

her in a flutter about expenses already?”
“No,” said Scarlett frankly, “I won’t, if you’ll let me stay here and if you’ll tell Mother that ‘twas nothing

but a lot of gossip from old cats.”
Gerald looked mournfully at his daughter.
“ ‘Tis blackmail, no less.”
“And last night was a scandal, no less.”
“Well,” he began wheedlingly, “we’ll be forgetting all that. And do you think a fine pretty lady like Miss Pittypat

would be having any brandy in the house? The hair of the dog—”
Scarlett turned and tiptoed through the silent hall into the dining room to get the brandy bottle that she and Melly

privately called the “swoon bottle” because Pittypat always took a sip from it when her fluttering heart made her faint

—or seem to faint. Triumph was written on her face and no trace of shame for her unfilial treatment of Gerald. Now Ellen

would be soothed with lies if any other busybody wrote her. Now she could stay in Atlanta. Now she could do almost as she

pleased, Pittypat being the weak vessel that she was. She unlocked the cellaret and stood for a moment with the bottle

and glass pressed to her bosom.
She saw a long vista of picnics by the bubbling waters of Peachtree Creek and barbecues at Stone Mountain, receptions

and balls, afternoon danceables, buggy rides and Sunday-night buffet suppers. She would be there, right in the heart of

things, right in the center of a crowd of men. And men fell in love so easily, after you did little things for them at

the hospital. She wouldn’t mind the hospital so much now. Men were so easily stirred when they had been ill. They fell

into a clever girl’s hand just like the ripe peaches at Tara when the trees were gently shaken.
She went back toward her father with me reviving liquor, thanking Heaven that the famous O’Hara head had not been able

to survive last night’s bout and wondering suddenly if Rhett Butler had had anything to do with that.