2. Improve yourself where you stand. -Edward Everett helmet]
Reading makes a perfect person, thinking makes a deep person and conversation makes a clear person. Benjamin Franklin
It is not easy to beat yourself, it needs great courage and firm information. Think about it, have you hit yourself many times? I still indulge myself a lot. -romain rolland
Most people want to change the world, but few people want to change themselves. -Wang Shao Boys' High School
6. objective criticism can benefit people, and less objective criticism may not really hurt you. -Wang Guozhen
7. Perseverance will enable you to achieve your goal, and erudition will enable you to distinguish the world clearly. Schiller
8. Cultivate your garden and don't rely on the teacher. . Follow your hobbies, boldly follow your curiosity, express yourself and create your own harmony. -will durant beauty.
9. It's never too late-it's never too late to start and never too late to be happy. -jane fonda beauty
10. The purpose of life is to develop oneself. Oscar Wilde
1 1. Everyone is different from others, and every day is different from himself. -Bo Bozhong
12. Action is the pearl and ruby in his argument. Hard labor, disaster, anxiety and poverty are strict teachers who cultivate his eloquence and wisdom. -Emerson Beauty
13. Nothing is more encouraging than improving your life wholeheartedly. Thoreau
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2. Some beautiful sentences (essays) about the traces of growth "Love of an Eagle"
My recent graffiti works may give you some inspiration for writing.
Sa Ciki Star Soul was published on April 2009 12, 12:48 Read (6) Comments (2)
Category: My Masterpiece Permissions: Open
I have a heartfelt love for the goshawk since I was a child, and I envy the goshawk for shooting birds. The eagle's verve and tenacious will make its spirit immortal! What I admire most is that the goshawk knows how to rise against the wind and closely links fate with the times. Be good at sizing up the situation, try to find yourself and become the real master of your own destiny. When the young eagle is young, her mother will take it to the edge of the cliff and push its trembling body into the abyss. The danger of losing wings and the pain of tearing will be vulnerable to the longing of life. The pain in its soul will inspire enough strength to let it spread its wings and fly. Learn to soar, the most dangerous thing is not the cliff, but to stop in fear of shrinking because of the desire for comfort, and you will only go astray and never complete the real beginning of life.
After the goshawk is full-fledged, it always lowers its head when it is quiet, and its eyes are looking at the lonely smoke in the desert with deep light. Those eyes are like electricity, overlooking the whole world and penetrating the ups and downs between heaven and earth. When soaring in the vault, it still tilts its head, sticks out its huge hook beak, spreads its wings to suppress the whole world, opens its claws and turns around to overlook the wind and grass on the earth, as if ready to tear up the increasingly narrow world under its feet. What gradually becomes clear in the field of vision is the incomparably vast and rich grassland. Even the cunning rabbit can't escape the sharp eyes in the three caves, and the boundless desert can't compare with the extension of its wings. The long line of life binds humble readers to the world of "self" and leads pioneers to the distant world. Life is a firm belief and unyielding spirit. It has never been afraid of the vast universe, and it has never been afraid of losing any direction.
Life is fragile, and diseases, hardships and old age are devouring the tenacity of life. When the strength of eagle wings began to degenerate, the unyielding messenger of life reluctantly tore off his old wings one by one, and everything was desperate. But its unruly character refuses to accept everything. In order to regain its glory, it struggles in pain and seeks hope in struggle. Even if death does come, it will face it calmly. When the new wings grow up, the goshawk seems to be deified, surpassing the definition of life and death cycle by wings ... Every painful fall is the beginning of a new life, and the goshawk inevitably draws a beautiful full stop for every lofty story. Every time its feathers are reborn, it refuses the call of death, and every time it slips into the clouds, it depicts a passion of life ... it flies freely between the blue sky and white clouds faster and faster.
Because I am obsessed with the eagle, I have been looking for the sky and thinking about the scene of Genghis Khan's all-powerful situation 800 years ago. However, everything can only be fixed in memory, including the setting sun of blood on the wasteland and big wing under the light ... Life can't last forever in time, but it can race against time with high passion. Blue sky and white clouds record the distance you have traveled. I know that as long as the cliffs, grasslands and deserts between heaven and earth are still there, your life will last forever. You are brave, brave and persevering.
In the cycle of life, it either spirals up to the sky or draws circles in the same place. Draw a circle with the goshawk as the center, and the diameter is between heaven and earth. Goshawk will always be fixed in the flying and fighting posture in the sky, leaving the sharp and burning rhythm in the sky. Perhaps this is the highest state of life.
3. What sentences describe "traces of time"? 1. Let the years pass, I hope love is like a teenager.
2. Feel the passage of time and keep this memory alone!
3. Stop falling in love with others.
Hatsune Miku
4. As time goes by, memories make us grow.
-the fish that loves to climb trees "Resurrection"
5. Time flies. Spring has gone, and fate has come.
6. The beginning of a story is always sweet, and people's hearts turn as the years go by.
One day, the rest of my life will be full of memories.
8. Quietly, there is no sound of the passage of time.
9. Time flies, years pass, who failed to live up to the fleeting memory?
10. As time goes by, the string is a song, which is gone forever.
4. Reflections on the growth of beautiful literature and poetry
Those paper cranes that flew all over our childhood sky have already drifted away with the wind and turned to ashes with the passage of time.
At that age as pure as magnolia petals, I met the figure that touched all my joys and sorrows. From then on, my life is like broken glass, stuck in my heart, with invisible scars and unspeakable pain.
I thought everything had become a thing of the past, and no amount of memories would leave too deep a mark after time rolled. Those lost years are painful in my heart over and over again. I don't want to or know how to classify them simply, just like the word "sensible". I never know whether to express gratitude or deep pain.
I just kept growing, like all children, until I was not as big as a child, but I still couldn't break those encounters and ties. They just surged in an instant, like a tsunami.
Time flies by me, and the sound of running water is like running water singing cheerful songs.
Years are always accompanied by those who stumbled, those memories, those who made us and those things that ran over our lives like trains, leaving clear or vague marks.
I saw how wonderful these two lines were at the moment of intersection, like a lark perched on a branch, like an orchid suddenly blooming in a valley. But I forgot their endless waiting and separation …
In so many nights, so many mornings, looking at the uncertain sky overhead, I have been silent. A trance, a trance, and then another dusk and morning passed. ...
That sky is always so vast and lonely, it has been so for many years, and it will continue. It will still be like this many years later. Where are the people who once said that they would accompany us to watch every sunrise and sunset?
Finally, one day, I found that I could almost forget the days I thought I would never forget. It's like reading a book, and seeing it brings you a feeling of happiness or sadness or indifference. After reading it, turn it over naturally, and then see a new story and a new plot. Sometimes I feel that life is like this, and I don't know whether to laugh or feel sad.
I kept talking and talking, and suddenly I felt very sad. Seeing too much growth brings me helplessness and harmony. When people choose one thing, they are bound to lose something. No matter how perfect the choice is, it will not be perfect. In the process of growing up, I stood at the fork in the road countless times, made countless choices and lost countless times. Sometimes I feel that no choice is the happiest.
Growing up is like a happy disaster! Happiness and disaster ~ I have always liked these two words, especially when they are together, they are always surprisingly charming. Simple words are full of all the entanglements about growth and love. ...
5. I learned to write my own growth footprint poems, so let's learn from them.
urge
Years will always leave some.
Fuzzy mark
Like holding hands under the moon.
Or did you meet on the road?
At dusk after many years.
Will go back to that
I was very touched at first.
Quietly let time overflow memory.
The bell of life is ringing.
The wind in the wilderness
It's an eternal tremor.
Suddenly,
I'm young.
aged
The river of life has already settled.
There are fossils from the past
6. Poems about growth The passing time is accompanied by gentle moonlight. Looking at the young lighthouse, there are still stars shining on you. I have grown up and am full of expectations for the future. I don't remember where the crossroads of my childhood were. I don't know where my childhood dream is. People who have walked in the confused and hurried years can already fly in their dreams, but they can't forget their steps when they wake up. Steady gait, stormy. The beginning of life is full of longing. I expect to lose to the intersection. The mist dispersed by flowers and leaves sighs that time has taken away ignorance. Today, I was holding an umbrella, listening to the rain and looking at the lighthouse. The sunshine in memory is hidden on the way when we come and grows into a clear rhyme. I don't know how time passed, what is the intersection of life when I wake up, and who wrote the mark of growth.
7. The trace of growth "Xi Murong" Who knows 1, the original text:
Traces of Growth-Xi Murong
Maybe things don't always go as expected. However, I always think that just giving me a good memory is enough. Even if it's only one day and one night, be content.
Many wishes, what I want, are given to me by God. Fast or slow, I received them one by one. And my desire for a beautiful youth, although it seems that I have never been able to get it, seems to have passed when I walk back. A few times, I didn't feel it at once, and a few times, I suddenly realized in my heart: originally, this is youth!
That summer, I was almost eighteen years old. I crossed the road to sketch with my college classmates and lived in Tianxiang. These mountains are green in summer. One afternoon, three male students and I had a whim. Instead of sketching with other students, we climbed a mountain that we studied for many days without anything. It is a very handsome mountain, surrounded by many mountains, with a faint temperament of a king.
And when we finally reached a grassy slope after more than an hour of tiring climbing, it was almost dark. Facing the ups and downs in front of us, there is a beautiful grassland behind us, and the wind blows up from the valley below. We are surprised to find that white lilies are blooming everywhere on this mountain, which is full of weeds.
At that moment, I began to feel a slow pain in my heart, as if there was a voice in my ear, telling me coldly: you can only have this moment. Before that, you didn't expect you to have it. After that, you will forget what you once had. Lily belongs here completely. You are just a passer-by. You have to leave. You can't grow and bloom on this mountain forever like a lily.
The mountains at dusk have a gentle and sad beauty. Where does my heart belong? Three boys were lying on the grass slope behind me, singing some popular songs loudly and laughing at the same time. Youth should be so happy and carefree, and why can't I be like them? Why are you standing here stupefied, full of envy for these mountain lilies blooming in front of my eyes?
It is with such strong jealousy that I asked a male classmate to pick me a lot of pure white lilies. I held them tightly in my arms and led them down the mountain.
But, it's useless, it's really useless. As the voice told me, I still can't grasp those lost moments. Although the lilies I picked soon withered, every time I think back, they still grow on the mountains in the faint sunset, blooming, pure and white, showing me a kind of beauty that will never change and never melt in the gray-green twilight.
2. Xi Murong, born in19431June 01May, was born in Sichuan and grew up in Taiwan Province province. Her parents are both Mongolians from Inner Mongolia, and her Mongolian name is Princess Mulun. Xi Murong was born in Sichuan during his father's military life. At the age of thirteen, he wrote poems in his diary. At the age of fourteen, he entered the Art Department of Taipei Normal University, and later entered the Art Department of Taiwan Province Provincial Normal University. 65438-0964 entered the Royal Academy of Art in Brussels, Belgium, specializing in oil painting. After graduation, he served as an associate professor of fine arts in Hsinchu Teachers College of Taiwan Province Province. He held dozens of personal exhibitions, published a set of paintings and won many painting awards. 198 1 year, Taiwan Province dida publishing house published Xi Murong's first book of poetry, Li Qixiang, which was reprinted seven times a year. Other poems are also reprinted in one edition. Xi Murong writes more about love, life and homesickness, which is extremely beautiful, elegant and transparent, lyrical and full of true love for life. It has influenced the growth of a whole generation.
3. Main works: Qilixiang, There is a Song, and Exploration of the Soul.