1. (2023高三上·上海期末) Reading Comprehension

I had always been one of those quiet boys who preferred dreams to the real world. I was, in addition, absurdly shy, and therefore often mistaken for a fool, which upset me deeply. For nothing terrified me more than the prospect of correcting a false impression. Though I was often blamed by mistakes made by my classmates, I never dare to say a word in self-defense. I would simply go home to hide in a corner and cry. My greatest pleasure was to sit alone, reading, and let my thoughts drift away in the stories.

My daydreams were in sharp contrast to real life; they were full of adventures and heroic deeds. They left marks on me. There was, for instance, a book about the history of the Roman Empire, in which an ambassador, while negotiating a treaty, was told that he was to accept the terms offered, on pain of death: his response was to plunge his arm into a fire and continue with his deliberations, in absolute calm. Inspired by his courage, I proceeded to test my own powers of resilience by plunging my own hand into the fire, only to burn my fingers badly. I can still see that ambassador, smiling calmly through his pain. Father hated my reading all the time, and sometimes he threw away my books. Some nights he refused to let me turn on the light in my bedroom. But I could always find a way, and after he caught me reading by the light of a string-wick lamp, he gave up and left me to it.  

There was a time when I tried my hand at writing; indeed, I even made a few little poems, but I quickly abandoned my efforts. No matter what I had bottled up inside me, I was extremely anxious about letting it out, and so my adventures in writing ended. I did, however, carry on painting. There was, I thought, no risk of revealing anything personal. I just took something from the outside world and brought it to life on paper. Sometimes I did hide some personal expression in it, but I made sure that it was visible enough to be seen and trivial enough to be ignored. The first time I showed my painting to my father, he was caught in silence for a while and then he breathed deeply, and said:

"My son finally made something." Then here I am, as a teacher at the Academy of Fine Arts, wondering how everything happened, from my daydreams to painting.

1. （1） The sentence "They left marks on me." (in paragraph 2) means ________.

   A . daydreams did nothing but hurt the writer badly B . daydreams influenced the writer's behavior in real life C . the writer had lasting memory of the books he read D . the writer couldn't distinguish books form reality
3. （2） The writer gave up writing because ________.

   A . it was not as interesting as reading B . he was too shy to reveal his inner world C . he couldn't write good works D . his father didn't like him writing
5. （3） Throughout the passage what can we learn about the writer's father?

   A . He was impressed with his son's painting B . He didn't like the personality of his son. C . He was touched by his son's persistence in reading. D . He had a high expectation of his son in writing.
7. （4） The passage is mainly about ________.

   A . the power of reading B . the writer's adventurous daydreams C . reflection on the start of a career D . the efforts made to be painter