using namespace std;
/* function that compares two pointers by comparing the values to which they point
聽*/
bool int_ptr_less (int* a, int* b)
{
聽聽聽 return *a < *b;
}
int main()
{
聽聽聽 int x = 17;
聽聽聽 int y = 42;
聽聽聽 int* px = &x;
聽聽聽 int* py = &y;
聽聽聽 int* pmax;
聽聽聽 // call max() with special comparison function
聽聽聽 pmax = max (px, py, int_ptr_less);
聽聽聽 //...
}
榪欐槸婧愪唬鐮?MSVC7):
template<class _Ty,
聽class _Pr> inline
聽const _Ty& _MAX(const _Ty& _Left, const _Ty& _Right, _Pr _Pred)
聽{聽// return larger of _Left and _Right using _Pred
聽return (_Pred(_Left, _Right) ? _Right : _Left);
聽}
2.璁劇疆boolalpha鍙互璁╂祦杈撳嚭bool鍊肩殑瀛楃涓插艦寮?/p>
聽cout << boolalpha ;
聽bool b = true;
聽cout << b <<"*********"<<!b << endl;
緇撴灉:
true*********false
3銆備竴涓嬩唬鐮佸彲浠ユ祴璇曚綘鐨勭郴緇熷悇綾誨瀷鐨勮寖鍥?br />#include <iostream>
#include <limits>
#include <string>
using namespace std;
int main()
{
聽聽 // use textual representation for bool
聽聽 cout << boolalpha;
聽聽 // print maximum of integral types
聽聽 cout << "max(short): " << numeric_limits<short>::max() << endl;
聽聽 cout << "max(int):聽聽 " << numeric_limits<int>::max() << endl;
聽聽 cout << "max(long):聽 " << numeric_limits<long>::max() << endl;
聽聽 cout << endl;
聽聽 // print maximum of floating-point types
聽聽 cout << "max(float):聽聽聽聽聽聽 "
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 << numeric_limits<float>::max() << endl;
聽聽 cout << "max(double):聽聽聽聽聽 "
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 << numeric_limits<double>::max() << endl;
聽聽 cout << "max(long double): "
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 << numeric_limits<long double>::max() << endl;
聽聽 cout << endl;
聽聽 // print whether char is signed
聽聽 cout << "is_signed(char): "
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 << numeric_limits<char>::is_signed << endl;
聽聽 cout << endl;
聽聽 // print whether numeric limits for type string exist
聽聽 cout << "is_specialized(string): "
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 << numeric_limits<string>::is_specialized << endl;
}
]]>
]]>
鎴戜滑鐭ラ亾錛屽湪256鑹茬殑鏄劇ず妯″紡涓嬶紝鏄劇ず鍣ㄥ湪鍚屼竴鏃跺埢鏈澶氭樉紺?56縐嶉鑹詫紝鑰岃嚜鐒剁晫鐨勯鑹叉槸鏁頒笉鑳滄暟鐨勶紝瀹冪┒绔熻鏄劇ず鍝?56縐嶉鑹插憿錛熶負浜嗗厖鍒嗚繍鐢ㄨ繖瀹濊吹鐨?56縐嶉鑹詫紝寰堝256鑹茬殑鍥懼儚鏂囦歡閮芥妸鑷繁鏈闇瑕佺殑256縐嶉鑹叉壘鍑烘潵錛屾斁鍒頒簡涓涓鑹茶〃涓紝鍙鏈変簡榪欎釜琛ㄤ腑鍒楀嚭鐨?56縐嶉鑹詫紝榪欎釜鍥懼儚灝卞彲浠ヨ揪鍒板畠鐨勬渶浣蟲樉紺烘晥鏋溿傝繖涓繚瀛樹簡鍥懼儚鎵闇鐨?56縐嶉鑹茬殑棰滆壊琛ㄥ氨鏄繖涓浘鍍忕殑璋冭壊鏉褲?/p>
銆銆姣忎竴涓?56鑹插浘鍍忛兘鏈夎嚜宸卞搴旂殑璋冭壊鏉匡紝濡傛灉鏄劇ず榪欎釜鍥懼儚鏃剁敤浜嗗埆鐨勫浘鍍忕殑璋冭壊鏉匡紝鍥懼儚灝辨湁鍙兘鍙樿姳銆?/p>
銆銆Windows95/98鏈変竴涓郴緇熻皟鑹叉澘錛岃繖涓皟鑹叉澘涓寘鍚簡Windows95/98涓嬌鐢ㄦ渶澶氱殑256縐嶉鑹詫紝浣嗚繖浜涢鑹插彧鑳戒繚璇乄indows95/98鑷繁鐨勬甯告樉紺猴紝濡傛灉鎴戜滑瑕佽繍琛屼竴浜涘濯掍綋杞歡錛岀敱浜庤繖浜涜蔣浠墮氬父閮芥湁鑷繁鐨勮皟鑹叉澘錛屽湪瀹冧滑姝ｅ父鏄劇ず鏃訛紝Windows95/98鐨勬闈㈠拰涓浜涚晫闈㈠氨浼氬彉鑺便傝繖浜涢兘鏄甯哥殑鐜拌薄錛屼篃鏄?56鑹叉樉紺烘ā寮忕殑涓涓眬闄愭с?/p>
銆銆鏈夋椂鎴戜滑闇瑕佹妸涓騫呯湡褰╄壊鐨勫浘鍍忔枃浠惰漿鎹負256鑹詫紝榪欎釜宸ヤ綔鏈夊緢澶氳蔣浠墮兘鍙互鍋氾紝鎴戜滑鏈甯哥敤鐨勬槸PHOTOSHOP銆侾HOTOSHOP鍙互璁＄畻鍑哄浘鍍忔墍闇鐨勬渶浣寵皟鑹叉澘錛屼篃鍏佽鎴戜滑涓哄浘鍍忔寚瀹氫竴涓皟鑹叉澘銆傜敤鎸囧畾鐨勮皟鑹叉澘鏉ヨ漿鎹?56鑹插浘鍍忚繖涓鍔熻兘闈炲父鏈夌敤錛屽湪鍒朵綔澶氬獟浣撹蔣浠舵椂錛屾垜浠粡甯擱渶瑕佷嬌寰堝寮犲浘浣跨敤鍚屼竴涓皟鑹叉澘錛岃繖鏍鋒墠鑳戒繚璇佸湪256鑹叉樉紺烘ā寮忎笅涓嶅嚭鐜拌姳灞忋?/p>
銆
]]>
private: int i;
public: base(int x){i=x;}
};
class derived: public base{
private: int i;
public: derived(int x, int y) {i=x;}
void printTotal() {int total = i+base::i;}
};
2. Assume you have a class like
class erp
{
HR* m_hr;
FI* m_fi;
public:
erp()
{
m_hr = new HR();
m_fi = new FI();
}
~erp()
{
}
};
if "new FI()" failed in the constructor, how can you detect this problem and
release the properly allocated member pointer m_hr?
3. Check the class and variable definition below:
#include <iostream>
#include <complex>
using namespace std;
class Base
{
public:
Base() { cout<<"Base-ctor"<<endl; }
~Base() { cout<<"Base-dtor"<<endl; }
virtual void f(int) { cout<<"Base::f(int)"<<endl; }
virtual void f(double) {cout<<"Base::f(double)"<<endl; }
virtual void g(int i = 10) {cout<<"Base::g()"<<i<<endl; }
};
class Derived: public Base
{
public:
Derived() { cout<<"Derived-ctor"<<endl; }
~Derived() { cout<<"Derived-dtor"<<endl; }
void f(complex<double>) { cout<<"Derived::f(complex)"<<endl; }
virtual void g(int i = 20) {cout<<"Derived::g()"<<i<<endl; }
};
Base b;
Derived d;
Base* pb = new Derived;
Select the correct one from the four choices:
Cout<<sizeof(Base)<<endl;
A. 4 B.32 C.20 D.Platform-dependent
Cout<<sizeof(Base)<<endl;
A. 4 B.8 C.36 D.Platform-dependent
pb->f(1.0);
A.Derived::f(complex) B.Base::f(double)
pb->g();
A.Base::g() 10 B.Base::g() 20
C.Derived::g() 10 D.Derived::g() 20
4.Implement the simplest singleton pattern(initialize if necessary).
5.Name three sort algorithms you are familiar with. Write out the correct
order by the average time complexity.
6.Write code to sort a duplex direction linklist. The node T has overridden
the comparision operators.
7.Below is usual way we find one element in an array:
const int *find1(const int* array, int n, int x)
{
const int* p = array;
for(int i = 0; i < n; i++)
{
if(*p == x)
{
return p;
}
++p;
}
return 0;
}
In this case we have to bear the knowledge of value type "int", the size of
array, even the existence of an array. Would you re-write it using template
to eliminate all these dependencies?
]]>
鍘熸枃鍦板潃錛?a >http://vpwpartners.blogs.com/viewpoint_west_partners/2005/06/steve_jobs_comm.html
Steve Jobs Commencement Speech: "Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish"
Thank you. I'm honored to be with you today for your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. Truth be told, I never graduated from college and this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation.
Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories. The first story is about connecting the dots.
I dropped out of Reed College after the first six months but then stayed around as a drop-in for another eighteen months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out? It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife, except that when I popped out, they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking, "We've got an unexpected baby boy. Do you want him?" They said, "Of course." My biological mother found out later that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would go to college.
This was the start in my life. And seventeen years later, I did go to college, but I na茂vely chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, and no idea of how college was going to help me figure it out, and here I was, spending all the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back, it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out, I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me and begin dropping in on the ones that looked far more interesting.
It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms. I returned Coke bottles for the five-cent deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the seven miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example.
Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer was beautifully hand-calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and sans-serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.
None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me, and we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts, and since Windows just copied the Mac, it's likely that no personal computer would have them.
If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on that calligraphy class and personals computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do.
Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college, but it was very, very clear looking backwards 10 years later. Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward. You can only connect them looking backwards, so you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something--your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever--because believing that the dots will connect down the road will give you the confidence to follow your heart, even when it leads you off the well- worn path, and that will make all the difference.
My second story is about love and loss. I was lucky. I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents' garage when I was twenty. We worked hard and in ten years, Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4,000 employees. We'd just released our finest creation, the Macintosh, a year earlier, and I'd just turned thirty, and then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew, we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so, things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge, and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our board of directors sided with him, and so at thirty, I was out, and very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating. I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down, that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure and I even thought about running away from the Valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me. I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I'd been rejected but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.
I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods in my life. During the next five years I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the world's first computer-animated feature film, "Toy Story," and is now the most successful animation studio in the world.
In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT and I returned to Apple and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance, and Lorene and I have a wonderful family together.
I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful-tasting medicine but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life's going to hit you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love, and that is as true for work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work, and the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking, and don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it, and like any great relationship it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking. Don't settle.
My third story is about death. When I was 17 I read a quote that went something like "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself, "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "no" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something. Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important thing I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life, because almost everything--all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure--these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.
About a year ago, I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctors' code for "prepare to die." It means to try and tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next ten years to tell them, in just a few months. It means to make sure that everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.
I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope, the doctor started crying, because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and, thankfully, I am fine now.
This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope it's the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept. No one wants to die, even people who want to go to Heaven don't want to die to get there, and yet, death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because death is very likely the single best invention of life. It's life's change agent; it clears out the old to make way for the new. right now, the new is you. But someday, not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it's quite true. Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma, which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice, heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.
When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalogue, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late Sixties, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and Polaroid cameras. it was sort of like Google in paperback form thirty-five years before Google came along. I was idealistic, overflowing with neat tools and great notions. Stewart and his team put out several issues of the The Whole Earth Catalogue, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-Seventies and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath were the words, "Stay hungry, stay foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. "Stay hungry, stay foolish." And I have always wished that for myself, and now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you. Stay hungry, stay foolish.
Thank you all, very much.
]]>