I like words.

Once upon a time, I fell in love with words and the vast and lonely sea of books. Words can heal wounds, repair the soul and indulge yourself, your thoughts and your soul. No method is more reliable and warmer than writing.

Words are streams flowing at the fingertips, sometimes surging and passionate, sometimes gentle and considerate. I like reading literary books, especially poems. Poetry, with short words, expresses the profound connotation of words. They emerge in their minds like jumping elves and are expressed in words. Then, people's thoughts and feelings leap from the paper.

Writing is also a spiritual sustenance. Whether we are sad or happy, we can write on paper and vent at will. Words are my spiritual comfort. The book is there, and I feel at ease. Sitting in the sun with a book in hand, so quiet. I want to wander in the sea of books and enjoy this wonderful time.

I have heard a saying: "There are three best jobs in buddha said life-selling flowers, umbrellas and incense." I think the flowers are beautiful, but if there is no "wet apricot blossom rain, blowing cold willow" written by Zhinan in the Song Dynasty, where will it be so elegant? Umbrella is good, but if there is no Ouyang Xiu's "Shen Hong canopy at the foot of the sun, light rain on the umbrella", how can there be the charm of this umbrella? Incense is good, but if there is no Li Bai's "Boshan furnace agarwood fire, double smoke in summer", how can there be romantic feelings of selling incense?

So I said that the best career in life is-selling books.

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Article 5 of the tenth issue