For art exam performance lines, you can try Qu Yuan’s monologue, Rhinoceros in Love, Thunderstorm Lu Gui’s monologue, Sunrise Huang Shengsan’s monologue, Peking native Jiang Tai’s monologue, Teahouse Wang Lifa’s monologue, Peer Gynt’s monologue , these are boys' first-person monologues. Prepare your own manuscript and it depends on whether you use poetry or prose. Recommended: Love Story, Prison Song, Reply, I am attached to this land, believe in the future, Letter to Wife, Oathkeeper, Wu Zhui Farewell Overlord, Western China, the Cradle of the Sunrise, Some People, Huangshan Pines, Sanmenxia - Dressing Table. It is recommended to look at the previous Qiyue Festivals. You can find many good jokes in them, and you can also find the feelings expressed in those jokes.
"Changchuncao" Lei Shuyan
It is said that there is a kind of grass called cicada. I don't know its shape or color. I don’t know its taste or the season when it blooms. It is said that it is a farewell grass. People who see it will have the tragedy of farewell, so people also call it farewell grass. I don’t know if there is such a kind of grass. , can it be a sustenance for people's sorrow of separation, can it hint at the sadness of parting? I think there may be. It must sprout in the season of bitter rain, bloom in the moment of exposure, and fall in the cold morning. I think that flower must be like catkins, It must be like a dandelion, flying in the wind; looking for people leaving, falling on their sobbing, trembling shoulders. The fallen leaves will be red, like acacia, like maple leaves, stained with blood in the eyes of people who are leaving. I think There must be a kind of grass called parting grass, which is the grass of the hanging intestines. Where is there no parting? When is there no parting? Life is like duckweed, facing east and west, how can it always be gathered together? I think there must be a grass that hurts parting. Don't ask about its color, its taste, or the season it blooms.
"I was fifteen years old that year"
During the most prosperous year of the Cultural Revolution, I was fifteen years old. In that year, my father was imprisoned. The rebels said that he was a spy or a secret agent. That was just because he was in middle school. Teach English! My mother was illiterate and she didn’t understand why all this happened. A rope ended her life!
The most unforgettable thing for me was that on a snowy morning, I went to the prison where my father was imprisoned. I went to see him in prison. From a distance, I saw an old man with gray hair and ragged clothes walking towards me. Ah! It's my father! I stretched out my hands, and even though we were separated by the iron fence, I still wanted to hug him, but my father said, "Who are you! I don't know you, let's go, let's go!" Then he turned around. Leave. My heart was broken, and I shouted loudly: "Dad, I am your daughter! Why are you ignoring me, why don't you recognize me?" But he didn't look back, and I had no choice but to leave the prison.
I was walking on the street, and snowflakes drifted into my collar, but hit my heart! I walked aimlessly, and as I walked, I felt cold and hungry, but Where is my home and where are my relatives? The only things that accompany me are my footprints and the cold wind...
"The Innocent Sinner"
Nietz Namov: Gentlemen, I have permission, so please do not interrupt me. I propose, gentlemen, a toast to mothers who abandon their own children. Let them live in joy, and let their paths be strewn with roses and lilies. I hope that their happy life will not be disturbed by anyone or anything, and that no one or anything will remind them of those unfortunate orphans. Why should we destroy their peace? They have done everything they can and will do for their beloved children. Some of them were in pain for their children, kissed their children more or less tenderly, and said parting words: "My baby, farewell, find your own way to survive! It is best to die."
The so-called truth, this is the truth: death is the first good thing. It can satisfy this new visitor to the world. However, not every orphan can enjoy this kind of luck. (He bows his head and thinks for a moment) There are also some passionate mothers who not only often shed tears and kiss their children, but also give their children a small gold gadget and say: "Wear it and remember me." !" But what can the poor children remember? And why should they remember it? Why leave them a permanent souvenir of this unfortunate shame?
Even without this, everyone would not bother. Everyone will point at him and say that he is an abandoned illegitimate child and a bastard on the roadside! But do their mothers know this unfortunate child who is insulted for no reason? Sometimes she sheds tears on Where are the souvenirs left by her mother? Mom, where are you happy and carefree now? Answer me! Even if a drop of your tears falls on my head, if I continue to endure my pain and disappointment, I will feel Be more relaxed, you know that hanging this souvenir on me really burns my heart like fire!
Wen Chu Crepe
There was a rich man named Zhu who talked about taboos and loved Speak politely. He said to the new pig coffin: "Remember the rules of my family: My surname is Zhu. You are not allowed to use the word 'Zhu' (pig) when you call me. Just call me 'Master' or 'My Master'; when you speak normally, Be polite and don't use slang.
For example, when you eat, you say "dining"; when you sleep, you say "sleep"; when you are sick, you say "disease"; when you recover, you say "recovery"; when a person dies, you say "die", but this cannot be done when a prisoner is beheaded. The next day, a pig got swine fever. The little pig hurriedly came to the rich man and said, "Master, one of my masters is sick. Call him." If it eats instead of dines, and calls it "sleep" instead of "sleep", I'm afraid it will be difficult to "recover". It's better to "execute" it!" The rich man was so angry that he couldn't speak for a long time. The pigherd continued. : "If I don't want to 'execute' this 'own master', I might as well let him 'die' on his own!"
"Crescent Moon'er"
"Crescent Moon'er, Crescent Moon'er! Again I see you, my good friend. You ask me why I always like to look at the crescent moon. Yes, when I saw it, I remembered everything. When I knew that I was sick, I was in great pain. I felt that there was no need to live anymore. I put on clothes, put on powder, and lay on the bed waiting to die. .
Suddenly, I heard light footsteps outside the door. I saw a pair of eyes looking into the room through the small glass outside the door... I stood up gently and opened the door. It was Mom! Mom... Mom and I were I don’t even remember how I got into the house or how long I cried. I just wonder why Mom is so old? It was her shopkeeper who secretly returned home and didn’t leave her any money. She had no choice but to look for me everywhere. After searching for half a month, hahahaha, she found her daughter, but her daughter is already the same as she used to be, a prostitute, hahaha...ahhhhh..."