If winter is true, the stone will be very cold. "-"chapter "
A butterfly, a spring, a willow tip and a little excitement, he saw the whole spring. In order to cater to the existence of beauty, the faint sunshine also falls gently on the window glass, just like water drops, clear, calm and dribs and drabs. The window was left open, and the slightly cool gentle wind sneaked into the room to render the people inside. On impulse, he grabbed his coat and blended in the color of spring.
The streets are still cold, but the suburbs are unusually warm. People are surrounded by people in twos and threes, laughing and chasing, so comfortable and safe. It seems that everything has a reason to be happy and smile.
Is the throb of being warm and cold, plus a little relaxed enthusiasm, just the weight of a season?
Under the bright moonlight, there was silence, which faded the impetuousness and uneasiness of the day and gradually flooded in front of us. This is extremely rational thinking; Walking under the dim street lamp, the chill bursts, gently wrapping the collar and rushing the whole chill out of my mind; In more and more clear arguments and answers, there is always a voice of love supporting: "The street is asleep, but the street lamp is awake." Looking up at the journey home, my mother's waiting eyes are like street lamps, shining with the light of expectation and always on. He understands that happiness and beauty are mixed together and cannot be distinguished. Even if he proves all the problems in the world, maybe he can't prove why mom's white hair is still beautiful.
I don't know the steps to get home, the answers I can't find, and the feelings in the cold?
He wanted to use the dignity of his life to achieve that sigh, so at Shanhaiguan, he lay down gently, waited gently and ended gently. A long whistle echoed all his feelings. In that ruined place, you died so solemnly, the reason is not the reason. It's really exquisite to the extreme, just like Venus, whose lost arms add to its charm, and him, isn't it?
There is no hesitation, no sadness, no great attachment to the world, so I left firmly, like leaves raised in July, knocking on the lake, silently and without a trace. Didn't that whistle respond?
Spring is beautiful because of life, and night is beautiful because of the warmth of maternal love. Haizi is beautiful because she gave up. Whether it is a flying butterfly or a stagnant stone, there is only a staring distance from you. Through him, you have the beauty of the whole world.