Poet William Stafford once said that we are defined more by the detours (绕行路) in life than by the narrow road toward goals. I like this image. But it was quite by accident that I discovered the deep meaning of his words.

For years we made the long drive from our home in Seattle to my parents' home in Boise in nine hours. We traveled the way most people do: the fastest, shortest, easiest road, especially when I was alone with four noisy, restless kids who hate confinement (限制) and have strong opinions about everything.

    Road trips felt risky, so I would drive fast, stopping only when I had to. We would stick to the freeways and arrive tired.

    But then Banner, our lamb was born. He was rejected by his mama days before our planned trip to Boise. I had two choices: leave Banner with my husband, or take him with me. My husband made the decision for me.

    That is how I found myself on the road with four kids, a baby lamb and nothing but my everlasting optimism to see me through. We took the country roads out of necessity. We had to stop every hour, let Banner shake out his legs and feed him. The kids chased him and one another. They'd get back in the car breathless and energized, smelling fresh from the cold air.

    We explored side roads, catching grasshoppers in waist-high grass. Even if we simply looked out of the car windows at baby pigs following their mother, or fish leaping out of the water, it was better than the best ride down the freeway. Here was life. And new horizons (见识).

    We eventually arrived at my parents' doorstep astonishingly fresh and full of stories.

    I grew brave with the trip back home and creative with my disciplining technique. On an empty section of road, everyone started quarreling. I stopped the car, ordered all kids out and told them to meet me up ahead. I parked my car half a mile away and read my book in sweet silence.

    Some road trips are by necessity fast and straight. But that trip with Banner opened our eyes to a world available to anyone adventurous enough to wander around and made me realize that a detour may uncover the best part of a journey—and the best part of yourself.

蛋白质是生命活动的主要承担者。下图为蛋白质结构与功能的概念图，对图示分析正确的是(　　)

1÷ $\frac{\text{3}}{\text{5}}$ ＝____ 

0× $\frac{\text{2}}{\text{7}}$ ＝____

1＋ $\frac{\text{3}}{\text{5}}$ ＝____

阅读下面的文字，完成后面练习。

风干的名著

    有关名著的改编缩写问题，多年以来聚讼纷纭，议论不断。但不管不同的声音有多少，各种各样的改编本依然源源不断，流行坊间。这些改编缩写本，其数量之多，简直有把天下名著一网打尽之势，纷纷冠之以“中国古典名著普及本”“外国名著学生读本”，还有什么“袖珍本”“卡通本”“速读手册”等，名目繁多，如乱花撩眼。

    我认为文学作品尤其是名著是不能改编缩写的，至于用戏剧、影视等其他艺术形式表现，则另当别论。单从文学这种精神产品的特殊性说来，改编缩写之举便有违常理。文学作品是一个生气贯注的有机整体，是各组成要素之间撕裂不开的、血肉关联的组合。这种“有意味的形式”一经成形，便由不得别人来改动了。压缩了篇幅，减少了字数，不仅仅是量的变化，更重要的是质的变异和退化，或干脆就是仅仅与原作名字相同的另一部东西。

    著名学者陆建德指出，“文学名著必须维持原貌，正如阿凡提的汤，必须原汁原味，我们爱读《红楼梦》，因为那是曹雪芹的文字”“一部伟大的作品，多‘潜在的魅力’，人物头上小小的饰物或下意识的细微举动都暗含了丰富的内容”。正因为如此，文学名著才发散出千古如斯的永恒魅力，给人以经久的艺术享受。改写者往往遗神取貌地抽取所谓“故事”，而对那些看似无关宏旨其实又充满意味的细节，都看成可有可无的无谓枝蔓，难逃朱笔的杀伐。有完整情节的作品尚不能改动，更遑论那些异乎传统路子的作品。别的不说，就如汪曾祺和阿城吧，他们在作品里营造的那种境界，流淌着的那种诗性语言，依样画瓢都学不像，更不要说什么改写了。

    我想起了有阵子对京剧的改造。据说，为了让这个传统艺术能叫年轻人接受，便去掉京胡月琴的悠悠京韵，代之以“嘭嘭嚓嚓”的动感摇滚。这种被改造后非驴非马的东西，结果如何可想而知。倒是和时下名著的遭遇惊人相似。原本沉甸甸的东西变得轻飘飘，醇美的诗情变得淡乎寡味，丰饶的意蕴变得肤浅稀薄，形象苍白，语言温吞，乏善可陈。这类东西不可能引起读者进一步阅读原著的欲望，而恰恰相反，会严重地败坏读者原本不错的胃口。在他们看来，这些所谓名著，还不如小时候老爷爷讲的故事那般亲切有味。

    在速食快餐速配一次性等快捷型消费成为时尚的今天，名著改写之大行其道不是偶然的。这种短平快的东西，无论对阅读上只想浅尝辄止装点门面的成人，还是考试应急的学生，无疑适销对路。但提高素质实在是一件旷日持久的事情，特别是在文学艺术方面，更需要长期的浸润和熏染，这是一种作用于灵魂的过程，急于求成不得。那些风干的名著，那些被榨干了艺术汁液的纸页，能给读者留些什么呢?

在下面一段文字横线处补写恰当的语句，使整段文字语意完整连贯，内容贴切，逻辑严密。每处不超过15个字。

“一阴一阳之谓道”是中国古代哲学中的一个重要论断。那么①____？首先，②____，万事万物都存在这种关系，比如自然界的天地、四季、山水、风火等，都有阴阳之别。其次，阴阳两种属性尽管是对立的，③____，阳中有阴，阴中有阳。阴阳互相配合，才能化生万物。再次，阴阳是可以互相转化的，比如泰与否、损与益等，都不是一成不变的。由上所述可见，阴阳两种属性是对立统一的关系。