harperlee（贝克汉姆女儿为什么叫harper

本文目录

• 贝克汉姆女儿为什么叫harper
• 关于Harper Lee的名言
• 菲尔普斯资料
• 菲尔普斯的简历

贝克汉姆女儿为什么叫harper

　　小贝夫妇给女儿起名“Harper Seven”，是因为“Harper”是如今美国最流行的名字，男女都可以用；而“Seven”则代表了贝克汉姆夫妇最喜欢的号码7。
　　“Seven”是贝克汉姆女儿姓名中间的名字。 7这个数字对于贝克汉姆来说的确意味深长，他就是在曼联穿着7号球衣成名的，在英格兰国家队他也身穿七号战袍，另外小贝身上也有罗马数字7的纹身。
　　不过小贝的密友却否认这种说法：“他们夫妇很喜欢这个名字，并没有什么特别意思。首先他们觉得‘Harper’叫起来很亲切，至于‘Sev－en’，这个数字在他们看来是幸运数字，而且小孩也是在七月出生的。 ”

关于Harper Lee的名言

It is a letter from Harper Lee to Oprah Winfrey, written in May of 2006, when Lee was 80. Lee writes about her love of books, her history of reading and its importance in the life of a small-town child, and her belief that “some things should happen on soft pages, not cold metal”.
Here is the whole transcription:
May 7, 2006
Dear Oprah,
Do you remember when you learned to read, or like me, can you not even remember a time when you didn’t know how? I must have learned from having been read to by my family. My sisters and brother, much older, read aloud to keep me from pestering them; my mother read me a story every day, usually a children’s classic, and my father read from the four newspapers he got through every evening. Then, of course, it was Uncle Wiggily at bedtime.
So I arrived in the first grade, literate, with a curious cultural assimilation of American history, romance, the Rover Boys, Rapunzel, and The Mobile Press. Early signs of genius? Far from it. Reading was an accomplishment I shared with several local contemporaries. Why this endemic precocity? Because in my hometown, a remote village in the early 1930s, youngsters had little to do but read. A movie? Not often — movies weren’t for small children. A park for games? Not a hope. We’re talking unpaved streets here, and the Depression.
Books were scarce. There was nothing you could call a public library, we were a hundred miles away from a department store’s books section, so we children began to circulate reading material among ourselves until each child had read another’s entire stock. There were long dry spells broken by the new Christmas books, which started the rounds again.
As we grew older, we began to realize what our books were worth: Anne of Green Gables was worth two Bobbsey Twins; two Rover Boys were an even swap for two Tom Swifts. Aesthetic frissons ran a poor second to the thrills of acquisition. The goal, a full set of a series, was attained only once by an individual of exceptional greed — he swapped his sister’s doll buggy.
We were privileged. There were children, mostly from rural areas, who had never looked into a book until they went to school. They had to be taught to read in the first grade, and we were impatient with them for having to catch up. We ignored them.
And it wasn’t until we were grown, some of us, that we discovered what had befallen the children of our African-American servants. In some of their schools, pupils learned to read three-to-one — three children to one book, which was more than likely a cast-off primer from a white grammar school. We seldom saw them until, older, they came to work for us.
Now, 75 years later in an abundant society where people have laptops, cell phones, iPods, and minds like empty rooms, I still plod along with books. Instant information is not for me. I prefer to search library stacks because when I work to learn something, I remember it.
And, Oprah, can you imagine curling up in bed to read a computer? Weeping for Anna Karenina and being terrified by Hannibal Lecter, entering the heart of darkness with Mistah Kurtz, having Holden Caulfield ring you up — some things should happen on soft pages, not c

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