Questões de Vestibular
Sobre interpretação de texto | reading comprehension em inglês
Foram encontradas 5.299 questões
According to the text:
I. Regardless of the strong security, the slum inhabitants enjoyed Obama‘s presence.
II. Despite the police pacification program, inhabitants of City of God want more attention from government.
III. Sasha and Malia refused to play with the shantytown children.
IV. The slum inhabitants‘ support for Obama is partially explained by the identification with the skin color of the American president.
V. Obama promised to improve basic services in City of God, which explained his approval amongst the local residents.
VI. The story of the occupation by cocaine gangs of City of God is not unique amongst other Rio de Janeiro‘s slums.
Mark the CORRECT answer:
I. The statements try to alert to the fact that many attitudes adopted by governments and industries have effects similar to terrorist actions.
II. The character‘s speech defends that the word terrorism should have a much broader meaning than we are used to.
III. It is possible that society and governments support actions that are sometimes as harmful as terrorist actions.
IV. Are considered terrorist actions to the character only those listed in the second balloon.
V. Sometimes terrorist actions are indeed trying to protect society.
VI. The character admits that all actions taken against the law should be considered terrorist attitudes.
Mark the CORRECT answer:
What inference can be made?
According to the doctor, his patient should
This traditional male is usually seen as someone who
Read the following passage of “The Dinner”, by Clarice Lispector, and answer question.
“I leaned over my meal, lost. When I finally managed to confront him from the depths of my pallid face, I observed that he, too, was leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table, his head between his hands. And obviously he could bear it no longer. His bushy eyebrows were touching. His food must have lodged just below his throat under the stress of his emotion, for when he was able to continue, he made a visible effort to swallow, dabbing his forehead with his napkin. I could bear it no longer, the meat on my plate was raw… and I really could not bear it another minute. But he – he was eating.
The waiter brought a bottle in a bucket of ice. I noted every detail without being capable of discrimination. The bottle was different, the waiter in tails, and the light haloed the robust head of Pluto which was now moving with curiosity, greedy and attentive. For a second the waiter obliterated my view of the elderly gentleman and I could only see his black coattails hovering over the table as he poured red wine into the glass and waited with ardent eyes – because here was a surely man who would tip generously, one of those elderly gentlemen who still command attention… and power. The elderly gentleman, who now seemed larger, confidently took a sip, lowered his glass, and sourly considered the taste in his mouth. He compressed his lips and smacked them with distaste, as if the good were also intolerable. I waited, the waiter waited, and we both leaned forward in suspense. Finally he made a grimace of approval. The waiter curved his shiny head in submission to the man’s words of thanks and went off with lowered head, while I sighed with relief.
He now mingled gulps of wine with the meat in his great mouth and his false teeth
ponderously chewed while I observed him… in vain. Nothing more happened. The
restaurant appeared to radiate with renewed intensity under the tinkling of glass and
cutlery; in the brightly lit dome of the room the whispered conversation rose and fell
in gentle waves; the woman in the large hat smiled with half closed eyes, looking
slender and beautiful as the waiter carefully poured the wine into her glass. But now
he was making another gesture.”
Read the following passage of “The Dinner”, by Clarice Lispector, and answer question.
“I leaned over my meal, lost. When I finally managed to confront him from the depths of my pallid face, I observed that he, too, was leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table, his head between his hands. And obviously he could bear it no longer. His bushy eyebrows were touching. His food must have lodged just below his throat under the stress of his emotion, for when he was able to continue, he made a visible effort to swallow, dabbing his forehead with his napkin. I could bear it no longer, the meat on my plate was raw… and I really could not bear it another minute. But he – he was eating.
The waiter brought a bottle in a bucket of ice. I noted every detail without being capable of discrimination. The bottle was different, the waiter in tails, and the light haloed the robust head of Pluto which was now moving with curiosity, greedy and attentive. For a second the waiter obliterated my view of the elderly gentleman and I could only see his black coattails hovering over the table as he poured red wine into the glass and waited with ardent eyes – because here was a surely man who would tip generously, one of those elderly gentlemen who still command attention… and power. The elderly gentleman, who now seemed larger, confidently took a sip, lowered his glass, and sourly considered the taste in his mouth. He compressed his lips and smacked them with distaste, as if the good were also intolerable. I waited, the waiter waited, and we both leaned forward in suspense. Finally he made a grimace of approval. The waiter curved his shiny head in submission to the man’s words of thanks and went off with lowered head, while I sighed with relief.
He now mingled gulps of wine with the meat in his great mouth and his false teeth
ponderously chewed while I observed him… in vain. Nothing more happened. The
restaurant appeared to radiate with renewed intensity under the tinkling of glass and
cutlery; in the brightly lit dome of the room the whispered conversation rose and fell
in gentle waves; the woman in the large hat smiled with half closed eyes, looking
slender and beautiful as the waiter carefully poured the wine into her glass. But now
he was making another gesture.”
Read the following passage of “The Dinner”, by Clarice Lispector, and answer question.
“I leaned over my meal, lost. When I finally managed to confront him from the depths of my pallid face, I observed that he, too, was leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table, his head between his hands. And obviously he could bear it no longer. His bushy eyebrows were touching. His food must have lodged just below his throat under the stress of his emotion, for when he was able to continue, he made a visible effort to swallow, dabbing his forehead with his napkin. I could bear it no longer, the meat on my plate was raw… and I really could not bear it another minute. But he – he was eating.
The waiter brought a bottle in a bucket of ice. I noted every detail without being capable of discrimination. The bottle was different, the waiter in tails, and the light haloed the robust head of Pluto which was now moving with curiosity, greedy and attentive. For a second the waiter obliterated my view of the elderly gentleman and I could only see his black coattails hovering over the table as he poured red wine into the glass and waited with ardent eyes – because here was a surely man who would tip generously, one of those elderly gentlemen who still command attention… and power. The elderly gentleman, who now seemed larger, confidently took a sip, lowered his glass, and sourly considered the taste in his mouth. He compressed his lips and smacked them with distaste, as if the good were also intolerable. I waited, the waiter waited, and we both leaned forward in suspense. Finally he made a grimace of approval. The waiter curved his shiny head in submission to the man’s words of thanks and went off with lowered head, while I sighed with relief.
He now mingled gulps of wine with the meat in his great mouth and his false teeth
ponderously chewed while I observed him… in vain. Nothing more happened. The
restaurant appeared to radiate with renewed intensity under the tinkling of glass and
cutlery; in the brightly lit dome of the room the whispered conversation rose and fell
in gentle waves; the woman in the large hat smiled with half closed eyes, looking
slender and beautiful as the waiter carefully poured the wine into her glass. But now
he was making another gesture.”
Read the following passage of “The Dinner”, by Clarice Lispector, and answer question.
“I leaned over my meal, lost. When I finally managed to confront him from the depths of my pallid face, I observed that he, too, was leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table, his head between his hands. And obviously he could bear it no longer. His bushy eyebrows were touching. His food must have lodged just below his throat under the stress of his emotion, for when he was able to continue, he made a visible effort to swallow, dabbing his forehead with his napkin. I could bear it no longer, the meat on my plate was raw… and I really could not bear it another minute. But he – he was eating.
The waiter brought a bottle in a bucket of ice. I noted every detail without being capable of discrimination. The bottle was different, the waiter in tails, and the light haloed the robust head of Pluto which was now moving with curiosity, greedy and attentive. For a second the waiter obliterated my view of the elderly gentleman and I could only see his black coattails hovering over the table as he poured red wine into the glass and waited with ardent eyes – because here was a surely man who would tip generously, one of those elderly gentlemen who still command attention… and power. The elderly gentleman, who now seemed larger, confidently took a sip, lowered his glass, and sourly considered the taste in his mouth. He compressed his lips and smacked them with distaste, as if the good were also intolerable. I waited, the waiter waited, and we both leaned forward in suspense. Finally he made a grimace of approval. The waiter curved his shiny head in submission to the man’s words of thanks and went off with lowered head, while I sighed with relief.
He now mingled gulps of wine with the meat in his great mouth and his false teeth
ponderously chewed while I observed him… in vain. Nothing more happened. The
restaurant appeared to radiate with renewed intensity under the tinkling of glass and
cutlery; in the brightly lit dome of the room the whispered conversation rose and fell
in gentle waves; the woman in the large hat smiled with half closed eyes, looking
slender and beautiful as the waiter carefully poured the wine into her glass. But now
he was making another gesture.”
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