1 The rain stopped slowly, and the bleak autumn wind blew away the golden maple leaves all over the ground, turning them into tears and drifting away into clouds. My heart is lost, but I can't find it with the bleak autumn wind! Fall to the ground and become dust. Who, until what time, looks up at the rainbow that can only be seen in the sky, looks back at the wind and can't see the dust; Perhaps the water grows eastward, and things are different; Perhaps the fate of this brush has passed in retrospect! Perhaps my imagination is so rich that I forget that I am not a god; Maybe I was so stubborn that I forgot that God disposes. I am not a god, but I hope that the gods will be moved and God will be in charge, but I believe that God knows. Find a piece of pure land to plant roses and draw a blueprint instead of the sky. I hope that the four seasons will be free and the flowers will be gorgeous; I hope the autumn wind is like a song!
Excerpts from American Classic Prose in Senior High School 2 Everyone has it in his heart-Wang Qingquan, washing your soul and nourishing your life. Just because of the complexity of daily trivial life, it masks her beautiful voice and blurs her clarity.
The night is quiet, and nature is silent. At this moment, you can take off the heavy mask, remove the fence of the heart garden and really look at yourself. In the depths of life, you finally hear the crisp voice. This is a poem of truth, goodness and beauty. Like a shower, like a spring breeze, soft and meaningful.
The moon is hidden and the stars are present, and the wind is light. At this time, you can face up to your bare conscience and get out of the secular fan box. At the height of your soul, you finally feel the inevitable rhythm of the waves. This is a true, good and beautiful song! Like the bright moon, like the autumn sun, indifferent and quiet.
Excerpts from American Classic Prose in Senior High School 3 Scenery Journey and Story. Who left the beauty of the broken bridge and residual snow in the West Lake in winter? Who sang the long-cherished wish of "looking at the moon in the sky thousands of miles away"? Who blew the farewell flute in the soft waves of Cambridge? Who stopped the lilac-like beautiful image in the lonely rain lane? The people of Sri Lanka don't know where they are, but they have left a beautiful scenery that is praised by the world. When I close my eyes, I only feel a breath of fresh air, which will nourish everything in the long river of history forever. So what should we leave behind? I just hope that what we leave behind is a ray of fresh air.
Lin Yutang once said, "Life is nothing more than this. Do it and cherish it." We can't extend the length of life, but we can add color to it. Just as Qu Yuan, who devoted himself to the motherland, was "full of love in his heart, though he died nine times without regret", he left the world full of patriotic pride. Another example is Cao Xueqin, who sees everything. "The paper is full of ridiculous words and a bitter tear. Dou Yun's author is stupid, who can understand the taste? " What he left to the world was thinking and reverence. "It is enough for me to freeze to death alone", sacrificing my Du Fu for others; Confucius, who traveled around the world and taught Confucianism, lived like a garden full of flowers in spring, colorful and dazzling. They left the world with endless wealth. Only to find that faint fresh air overflowed the whole sky.
Ginkgo biloba, I miss you. I don't understand why you are also called Gongsun Shu. But most people call you ginkgo, which is easy to understand.
You can't exist in nature, but you still stand upright, singing the triumph of human victory in space. You are an oriental sage, you are a living monument to China culture, and you only have it in China, but most people don't seem to understand it.
I have been to Japan, and Japan has you, but you are obviously an overseas Chinese in Japan. China culture has existed in Japan for as long as you have lived in Japan.
But not because you are a specialty of China, but because you are beautiful, true and kind.
How straight your stems are, how vigorous your branches are, how green, how clean and how delicate your fan leaves are!
In summer, how many temples have been crowned with towering clouds, and how many working people have been crowned with cool canopies.
Although the phoenix tree has your straight end, it is not as strong as you;
Poplar is lush but not solemn.
The smoky wind will charm you, and birds will come to song for you; God's Hundreds of Gods-If there are God's Hundreds of Gods, I believe that whenever the moon is empty, they will come to the party at your feet.
Autumn comes, butterflies die, your green leaves will turn golden yellow, and butterflies will fly out of the garden.
Aren't you a clever magician? But you don't have the kind of Jianghu atmosphere that makes people hide their noses.
When you are free from everything and your branches are propped up in space, you are not ashamed of cold wind, frost and snow.
You didn't give in to your attitude at all, but you didn't despair; Your virtue is as barren as music, but you are not proud; Your taboo seems to be "detachment". You care about all the vegetation, you care about everything, but you don't hide it.
Isn't your fruit nourishing people, your sturdy wooden equipment, or your fallen leaves an excellent fuel for starting a fire?
But I'm a little strange: strangely, everyone in China seems to have forgotten you for a long time, as if from ancient times.
I can't find your name in China's classics. I seldom see China poets praising your poems, and I seldom see China painters describing your paintings.
What the hell is going on here? You are the eternal witness of China culture. Don't you find it strange?
Ginkgo biloba, the people of China have forgotten you. Although everyone is eating your ginkgo, everyone likes to eat your ginkgo, but I really forgot about you.
There are people in the world who can't tell, but they have never forgotten your example for so long.
Excerpts from American classic prose in high school are constantly being extracted, and the reason is still chaos.
I once opened my heart and ran by the green trees; I used to cry under the bamboo forest. I saw Li Yu's heart again today. I opened the poems carefully and read the history books carefully. Li Yu is "a gifted scholar is really peerless, poor and unfortunate." In the jade carving column, he and Zhou Xiao drank wine and wrote poems, which was quite peachy. Today, however, he is locked in a deep building, sighing only that "the lonely house of Wutong locks up the clear autumn" and always "asking how much sorrow you can have, just like a river flowing eastward". He is dead, and autumn is still clear. I only regret. Why doesn't he try to give up his wealth and become a poet in a bamboo forest in the countryside?
But before he conquered, he died, and since then the heroes have been crying on their coats.
The cypress trees are lush and dense. I flew to the treetops and smelled the hero in the fresh air. He is Wolong, who lives among the mountains and is also very lofty. But then he left and went to the battlefield. He strategized and won thousands of miles away. He was very happy because he helped his friend and the person who sincerely invited him out of the mountain. During the war, he felt that he had lived a full life, and finally left a good reputation of "getting a real start and getting along for a hundred years". The correct position and adherence to it make him feel happy in the sun.
Today I am buried in laughter, and tomorrow I know who it is.
Face to face is the wind, and the wind is deeply inserted into the heart like a sword, which is very sad. Daiyu sat alone in a small pavilion with tears in her eyes. What is she looking at? Looking at the mountains, clouds and mother. This is a strange place, full of strangers, and she has been lost for several years. Yes, she chose to bury flowers, worrying about the soil every day, and reading "Flower Funeral Words" while crying. In the end, she just died, and the Xiaoxiang Pavilion was still there. The deviation of position, here, there are large pieces of ice falling, how can those tender shoulders hold up? Tears welled up, but sadness was the embodiment of sadness.
Take people as a mirror, you can know the gains and losses.
Facing the dark clouds, I shuttled through the soldiers' armor and finally defeated the "hero" of the separatist regime. He knows people are good at their duties, has a heart for the sea and is resourceful. Today's "Zhenguan Rule" shows his achievements. However, in the hall, there is Wei Zhi's advice, like a sword, pointing directly at people's hearts; Advice is like the wind, biting cold and pain. However, he just smiled, ambitious, tolerant and focused. He is thirsty for talent, and he can always give full play to the wisdom of others. When Wei Zhi died, he said: "Take copper as a mirror, you can dress up;" Looking at the past as a mirror, we can see the rise and fall; Take people as a mirror, you can know the gains and losses. "It's fun to find the right position and give full play to the potential of the position.
Are you happy? Sad?
The evening breeze is intoxicating. I put down my book and looked at the world in front of me. There are mountains, water, flowers, birds and springs ... so tempting. I can only feel heartfelt joy in this position. Someone said well, "Happiness is a day, sadness is a day, so why not be happy for a day?" I am no longer confused, I want to interpret the most beautiful story of life in my post, so that there is always happiness in suffering.
Beautiful snowflakes are flying. I haven't seen you for three years.
Last year in Fujian, it seemed a little later than now, and I saw snow. But that's snow on the top of the mountain in the distance, not flying snowflakes. On the plain, it only occasionally sprinkles a few drops with the rain and never falls to the ground. Its color is gray, not white; Its weight is like raindrops, and it can't fly. As soon as it landed, it immediately melted into water, jumping or sighing without trace, just like when it snowed in Jiangsu and Zhejiang. This kind of snow, the old Fujian people I met for the first time in 40 years, can certainly feel the meaning of personality and talk about it with relish, but in my opinion, it is always boring. "It snows in Fujian", I don't think so.
I like the flying snowflakes in Shanghai. It is "white" and "white", and it is as beautiful as a flower. It seems to be lighter than air, not falling from the air, but being rolled up from the ground by the air. However, it is like a living creature, like a group of gnats (ruì) at dusk in summer, like bees in the honey-picking period in spring. It is busy flying, up or down, fast or slow, or sticking to people, or squeezing into the cracks, and seems to have its own will and purpose. It is silent. But when it flies, we seem to hear the cries and footsteps of millions of people, the rough sea, the roar of the forest, and sometimes it seems to hear the whispers of children, the quiet evening prayers in the chapel, the cheerful birds singing in the garden ... It brings gloom and cold. But in its flying posture, we saw a charitable mother, a lively child, smiling flowers, warm sun, silent sunset ... it didn't breathe. But when it jumped on our faces, we seemed to smell the fresh air in the wilderness, the elegant orchids in the valley, the rich roses in the garden, and the faint jasmine ... During the day, it made thousands of beautiful gestures; At night, it gives off silver light, shines on our pedestrians, and draws all kinds of flowers and trees on our glass windows, oblique, straight, curved and upside down. And the river, the clouds in the sky.
Most people pursue a flying life, in fact, ordinary is the background of life.
Ordinary is the trajectory of most life. The general is the spire and the soldier is the tower base. How many protagonists are there on the stage of life? Support all beings. It is countless soldiers, supporting roles and green leaves, which work closely with generals, protagonists and safflower to form a harmonious and wonderful world.
In life, many ordinary things are often the most important. Water and air are common, but they are indispensable for a moment in our lives; Grass and green leaves are common, but only they can provide us with fresh oxygen; The earth is ordinary. Without them, we can't get the energy and nutrition to sustain life. ...
Inequality is always great, but ordinary is the keynote of this world, the background color and primary color of life. Extraordinary characters are soaked with ordinary most of the time. Greatness can only show its value in an ordinary background. Greatness and extraordinary are actually bred in the ordinary.
Ordinary is by no means shallow, indulgent and mediocre, let alone enterprising. Life is ordinary. As long as you work hard, take responsibility and realize the value of your existence, ordinary people are attractive and noble.
Just because we are ordinary, we should learn to give ourselves a smile on the road of life.
We don't have to feel inferior for our ordinary life, because we have no noble social status, and our inner warehouse is full of depression and sighs.
We can praise others' success and envy others' wealth, but we must never despise our own ordinary. Ordinary also has ordinary value, as long as you are satisfied, that is a kind of happiness and happiness. Maybe we can't see the admiration of others, but we can applaud ourselves.
Just because we are ordinary, we need to learn to filter our mood, often clean our inner storeroom, clean up yesterday's troubles, and make room for our hearts to store more happiness today.
In this materialistic world, learn to appreciate ordinary flowers without being intoxicated; In the face of the storm, we should be able to cope, but we can't escape. Although we can't stop running, we can master the rhythm of our own steps. Whether you are wandering outside the door of success or standing on the podium of scenery, you should wave your hand and continue to move forward calmly. The pace of life is a little more steady, which is also a moving beauty.
Excerpt 8 1, all the way through the mud, I am still struggling-because I see you, in that mysterious distance, with a faint fragrance and your shallow smile.
On a quiet moonlit night, looking at the deep night sky, there will be an indescribable joy flashing in my eyes-because I seem to see your shallow smile through the twinkling stars.
2. Looking down, the whole world is colorful, surrounded by warm sunshine, accompanied by a breeze, lightly stepping on time, smelling the faint flowers in the air, quietly listening to the beauty of good and evil in the world, silently feeling the heartbeat of every encounter, coming and going with the wind, simple and silent.
3. Is life so unequal? The same life, but different fate; The same life, but only pain. Life has given me nothing but sadness, and fate has given me nothing but pain. I'm fed up with life, and I hate my miserable fate. I am miserable, and I will continue to be sad today and tomorrow.
4. I deeply know that the most urgent and always the most beautiful scenery in the world; The deepest injury is always the heart. Life is to boil a pot of moonlight, drunk with joy, drunk with sadness; Life is that suffering becomes strong on the branches of sunshine. The world of mortals is 3,000. You don't care how many flowers bloom, but you just want to smile and be safe, and you can feel at ease in a simple room. A pot of light tea is still fresh and fragrant. After smiling for many years, all we need to do is take one at random and move on.
5, if life is a song, ups and downs, voice ups and downs, each of us is a singer; In the flashy world, life is like tea, strong or weak, bitter or sweet, and we need to taste it with our heart. Remember what should be remembered, forget what should be forgotten, change what can be changed and accept what is unacceptable. Maybe we can't control the future, but at least we can control the present, can't we?
6. For us, life is like the spring wind, moist and warm; Like the summer sun, hot; Like autumn fruit, rich; Like a daydream in winter, it accumulates profundity all the time. ......
7. Time is always dim and you can't see it. The books I have read are all faint fragrance. Even if there are wrinkles and scratches, the book's thickness will be precipitated invisibly.
8. Looking up, you can see a world full of blue and purity. Sunshine is clothes, ink and wash, and a gallery. Who are you? It is Baiyun who is drawing with a colored pen. Draw sunrise and sunrise during the day and the moon and stars at night. Where are you from? A pure land from the sky. The wind carries your simple feelings, and your thoughts turn into drizzle. You invite Cai Xia to dance happily, sing with the rain in your spare time, and come and go calmly, lightly and freely.
9. Through the gap of the years, I saw another year of green grass, and the years flowed away from the grass non-stop. Only the grass is still telling the feelings of the past years.
10, the future days, like the dark night sky, open your mouth and devour my time; My time is like a yellow calendar, turning from page to page; Today is yesterday, yesterday is the past, and the past is like a drop of water on the tip of a needle in the sea; Therefore, my future days will inevitably fall into the stream of time, with no sound or shadow.
1 1, I sat on the corridor of time, watching the flowing clouds bathed in brilliance quietly lean against the corner of the sky like floating water, reflecting a faint blue; Look at the wind of that season, leaving a faint trace after blowing through the turbulent world; Look at the endless stream of people, stopping in glory but finally having a dream.
12 I like to listen to a song, let the familiar melody wander in the past stories again and again, let the warm thoughts spread, make a cup of sweet wine shallowly and slowly in this warm and sunny day, and lengthen the quiet time in each other's hearts bit by bit and write it down. I am willing to put aside all the complexity and not let the entanglement disturb me, so I watch silently and communicate happily. At the intersection of time, your shallow smile has become a beautiful scenery.
The power of faith is that it can help you move on in adversity. The charm of faith is that it can inspire you to live even in danger. The greatness of faith lies in maintaining a lofty heart even in the face of misfortune.
Endurance is an inconspicuous persistence; Yes-a perseverance that is not afraid of wind and rain; Yes-a loyalty that does not seek fame and fortune.
The building stands because it has strong pillars, and ideals and beliefs are the pillars of the building of life. The cabin broke through the waves because there was a compass to indicate the direction. Ideals and beliefs are the compass of the ship of life. The train goes to Wan Li Road, because there are rails to guide it, and ideals and beliefs are the rails on the train of life.
10 There are no perfect people in the world, only successful people. And only those who know how to shape themselves can be called successful people! -inscription
Most people are ordinary people. We are not as beautiful as Shi. Fortunately, we are not as sad and sick as Lin Daiyu. But that shocking word-shaping, brought us light, let us see the hidden expectation in life and the glory bred in peace! So, with that unyielding smile solidified in our brow, we embarked on a journey of constantly shaping ourselves.
Life itself is a process of constantly shaping itself. Many celebrities in ancient and modern times have also verified this point, that is, only in the process of constantly shaping themselves can a person surpass himself and take a step towards success. Han Xin, a generation of famous soldiers, constantly strives for self-improvement, rose from the grass in the war, forge ahead with determination, and created a heroic image with outstanding achievements; Zhuge Liang, a loyal minister, worked hard, was ordered if he was defeated, and was ordered if he was in danger, which created a world-famous and immortal example of officials. Sima Qian, a generation of philosophers, was upright and upright, angry when he was sad, and wrote books when he was depressed, which created an image of a literary master with lofty integrity and eternal legend.
We all know that "the red leaves are frosty and the wintersweet is snowy". Everything in the world is vulgar, ugly, elegant and beautiful. We use a grateful heart and a rational thinking to decide right or wrong, and learn something from it to shape a more successful self. From Wei Qinggang who fought huge waves and saved lives bravely, we saw a hero who showed his true colors in the cross-flow of the sea, and we have since shaped a brave and fearless self; From Huang Boyun, who has been casting swords for fifteen years, we can see an almighty who can calm down and work hard. The kinetic energy turns stone into gold. Since then, we have shaped our indomitable self; From the beautiful Tai Lihua portrayed in Silent World, we saw a simple woman who overcame her disability and created miracles. Since then, we have been shaping our indomitable self. These are the deeds of people who moved China. They touched China, shocked the hearts of hundreds of millions of people in China and inspired everyone's conscience. It is this touch, this encouragement that urges us to shape a more successful self.
Let's learn to find its advantages from bit by bit and shape our successful self. I believe that only those who know how to shape themselves can get the clearest self in spring water, the warmest self in burning red leaves and the most beautiful self in blooming flowers. Because the most perfect things are destined to belong to successful people, and "only those who know how to shape themselves can be called successful people!" " "
1 1 the rain gently and softly sprinkled on the earth, washing away the messy dust on the human ground, giving people a clean feeling, but the cold rain can't wash away my gray mood! I walked out of the noisy street, and the world of lights was so far away from me. I walked to the middle of the avenue and stood there, only the sound of rain before and after, and people didn't know where to hide. Great! Holding an umbrella, I have a soft and warm feeling that I can hardly breathe. There is a scene-scene-scene, one shot after another seems to have been talked about long ago, walking slowly in front of my eyes in the rain, walking slowly. ......
12, a classic American high school composition, vaguely reminds me that I haven't set foot on this moonlit path for several years. The path is cobblestone paved by my father himself, and the moonlight glows with dim and soft light. At the other end of the road, it connects the cabin by the river with my father. Father, are you still sitting on the shore, playing the flute sadly, waiting for your son's return?
Father likes playing the flute. When I was a child, my father's flute filled my childhood fun. Like that ribbon-like river, it drags my childlike innocence around my father's love harbor. My father loves my only son very much and always likes to use thick pairs.
Pinch my face, regardless of my crying, silly smile. Every evening, my father takes me to pasture cattle on the grass by the river. Father often let go of the cow rope and let the cow eat grass by himself, so he took out his flute from the grass basket behind him and played the most beautiful music in the world. I leaned on my father's lap and watched the sunset on the horizon dye my father's hair a little golden. I love my father, whose flute is the most beautiful.
As I grew older, I began to hate my father, who smelled of cigarettes and his yellow teeth. I hate it when he comes to school with a straw basket on his back and stares at me from the window. I also hate that he has no ability, only knows how to manage a few acres of thin land, and even my tuition has not been earned back. My father and I gradually separated. After being yelled at several times by me, my father stopped going to school barefoot and nagged me to study hard. He kept silent, and the only way to break the silence was to play the flute, which seemed to me to be a sign of idleness.
I go to school in other places. The night before I left, I walked on that familiar path and felt a little attached. The road is like a ray of moonlight on the ground, crossing my heart. I haven't been home for years. My mother told me on the phone that after I left, my father seemed to have lost all day, so he just went to the river to play the flute without thinking about tea and rice. Finally, I went home at my mother's request. It was already evening when I got home, and the moon had just risen. When I was walking on the path with endless thoughts, I met my father who was waiting for me. I burst into tears and hugged my father. I asked my father to play the flute for me and my father agreed. The choked flute sounded in my ears again, on the moonlit path, reminding me. I felt my father's love for my son as soon as possible, and I was ashamed of my father's flute. My father loves me and his son. He played the flute for me for eighteen years, and now I find that it has such a strong * * * sound with my heart.
The road is beautiful, beautiful, and it is the mark of the moon. The moon is the soul of the road and my father's flute is my soul!