The sun shone in through the dining room window，lighting up the hardwood floor. We had been talking there for nearly two hours．The phone of the“Nightline”rang yet again and Morrie asked his helper．Connie，to get it .She had been taking down the callers’names in Morrie’s small black appointment book .It was clear 1 was not the only one interested in visiting my old professor—the“Nightline”appearance had made him something of a big figure—but I was impressed with．perhaps even a bit envious of，all the friends that Morrie seemed to have
“You know．Mitch，now that I'm dying，I've become much more interesting to people．I’m on the last great journey here——and people want me to tell them what to pack．”
The phone rang again．
“Morrie，can you talk?”Connie asked .
“I’m visiting with my old friend now，”he announced．“Let them call back．”
I cannot tell you why he received me so warmly．I was hardly the promising student who had left him sixteen years earlier．Had it not been for“Nightline，”Morrie might have died without ever seeing me again．
What happened to me?
The eighties happened .The nineties happened．Death and sickness and getting fat and going bald happened．I traded lots of dreams for a bigger paycheck，and I never even realized I was doing it .Yet here was Morrie talking with the wonder of our college years，as if I'd simply been on a long vacation
“Have you found someone to share your heart with?” he asked .
“Are you at peace with yourself?”
“Are you trying to be as human as you can be?”
I felt ashamed，wanting to show I had been trying hard to work out such questions．What
happened to me? I once promised myself I would never work for money，that I would join the
Peace Corps，and that 1 would w*w^w.k&s#5@u.c~o*mlive in beautiful，inspirational places．
Instead, I had been in Detroit for ten years，at the same workplace，using the same bank，visiting the same barber .I was thirty-seven，more mature than in college，tied to computers and modems and cell phones．I was no longer young，nor did I walk around in gray sweatshirts with unlit cigarettes in my mouth．I did not have long discussions over egg salad sandwiches about the meaning of life．
My days were full，yet I remained，much of the time，unsatisfied .
What happened to me?
56．When did the author graduate from Morrie’s college?
A．In the eighties．                             B．In the nineties．
C．When he was sixteen                          D．When he was twenty-one．
57．What do we know about the“Nightline”?
A．Morrie started it by himself          B．It helped Morrie earn a fame．
C．The author helped Morrie start it．           D．It was only operated at night．
58．What can we infer from the passage?
A．Both the author and Morrie liked travelling.
B．Morrie liked helping people pack things for their journeys.
C．The author envied Morrie’s friends the help they got from him.
D．The author earned a lot of money at the cost of his dreams.
59．What’s the author’s feeling when he writes this passage?
A．Regretful.      B．Enthusiastic.      C．Sympathetic.       D．Humorous.