碰巧读了《华尔街日报》的2月3日刊登的来论《中国是真正的亚洲病夫》，编辑是耶鲁大学的国际政治学教授沃尔特·米德（Walter Russell Mead）。当时就觉得文不对题，文章基本是美国右翼学者批评中国的老调重弹，只不过借疫情加个引子，但这个标题却弥漫着十足的“标题党”的怪味。不禁让人唏嘘，百年大报也沦落至此。
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So then I examined him closely and saw a tall, fair youth, with plenty of straw-coloured hair, a prominent, rather crooked nose, and a manner of painful self-consciousness. I believe that, from that moment, we distrusted each other most heartily. We parted a few minutes later and I think Houghton must have shared my suspicion and regret that we should often have to meet after that date. Kahane was and is (though he has been in France these three years and I in Macedonia) my most intimate friend, and had lately “taken up” Houghton, and whenever Kahane did a thing he did it pretty thoroughly. And friends of a friend are bound to tumble across each other continually.
There is about as much sense in judging a man by his talk as there would be in buying a dog by his bark.
Meade, at this time, lost 23,000 men. The Un-ion was saved. Meade let Lee go slow-ly a-cross the Po-to-mac. One more move was made by Lee two or three months lat-er in a quick dash o’er the Rap-i-dan, with the thought that he might get a-round Meade’s right flank. But Meade was too bright to be thus caught. Then he tried the same game on Lee but with no gain, and so the “Cam-paign of 1863,” in the East, came to an end.
Then the punch was brought.
"Not the same ones, surely?" said I, quizzing him, after the manner of Mr. O'Rourke.
They seasoned their fish with daikon, a kind of horseradish; and their plates were the fresh-baked, flat, un-leavened chappattis Takeko had brought in her pack. The tubers, eaten from a fresh leaf-plate, needed only butter. Takeko had this, too, churned of camelopard-milk cream. Buds or flower-heads of the sunflower were eaten with sunflower oil, like artichokes. "Your people have a good friend in the sunflower;" Hartford remarked, wiping his lips.
“Theres a thousand and wan things, but as my cheef and spechul jooty outside of the hivvy housekaping wid the constant tack and diplomassy it intales to kape our unsertin Delia, I will undertake to—er—rayse sweet flowers for the beutifying of our lons and house.”
Saturday morning, the day after that on which Joyce had sent off the eventful letter to Marian. Twelve o'clock, and no appearance as yet of Lady Caroline Mansergh, who had sent word that she had a slight headache, and would take her breakfast in her room. Lady Hetherington hated people having breakfast in their rooms: it did not, of course, inconvenience her in the least; she herself was never particularly lively in the morning, and spoke very little, and disliked being spoken to, so that it was not the loss of companionship that she regretted; it was merely what people called a "fad" of hers, that the household generally should assemble at the breakfast-table, and she was annoyed when anything occurred to prevent it.
Their chance thrice glorious, and their fate thrice-blest.详情 ➢
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