It is not only onions that can make me cry in the world, but also every touch that fills me.

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Standing in front of the window, I was moved by the chirp or half chirp left by the birds when they passed by. They are always so smart and natural in the process of pursuing their dreams.

Under the cool tree, I was moved by the ant colony dragging the caterpillar, which explained the magnificence of life. Although weakness is doomed to be wrong, strength is the fusion of mind in life.

On the one-way street, I was moved by the memory of petals with dew falling in the air with the wind. Their life is colorful, but short-lived, but regret is like the beautiful Venus in my heart forever.

When memories and thoughts slowly settled down over time, I found that the touch between people made me burst into tears. It seems that I have a better understanding of life, and that kind of touch is coming like a flood.

When people in Magondeau have to die alone; When the once prosperous town was swallowed up by ants; When Ursula, who has been busy all her life, stops working; When Marquez read the oath on the scroll ... a hundred years of reincarnation, a hundred years of strength made me burst into tears.

I was very moved when I read this book. Life is a greater book. Reading life, various forces are constantly emerging, so that you can't help but burst into tears.

Because I understand the emptiness in people's hearts in One Hundred Years of Solitude, I shed tears. This understanding is because our inner throb is the * * * sound produced by people in One Hundred Years of Solitude, which makes me pick the most beautiful flowers in the waves of literature.

When the tour guide Wen Wenzhi's words rang in my ear: "I am a tour guide, save the tourists first" ... "uncles and aunts, insist, be sure to get out alive!" ..... My heart was touched again, only a little burning pain. The kind-hearted flower branch has lost its right leg, and its bravery and kindness are undisguised, such as the lotus standing in the chaotic secular sludge, and my touch is as crystal as the dancing water drops on the petals of the lotus.

Because I was moved, I shed tears when I saw the fiery red wheat and hawthorn-tears for Haizi.

When he left in that most beautiful season, he made an appointment with the most beautiful wheat hawthorn in his heart; When he put on black wings and flew to his fiery heaven; When he sings facing the sea and spring blossoms, he will be a happy person from tomorrow; When his body was broken in the whistle, I finally understood a poet's black melancholy.

Chewing the tragic "One Hundred Years of Solitude" carefully, listening to sincere words attentively, and sincerely wishing Haizi's ideal, I burst into tears and moved me to settle my pursuit in the struggle of life.

I may be moved for a moment, but the idea after being moved will be even more shocking. Because I was moved, I grew up.

Perhaps it is not vigorous or earth-shattering, but every time I am moved, I wash my mind like a spring breeze and brush away a little stain on my mind. Because of being moved, my heart beats with the pulse of being moved, and my eyes become clearer and clearer because of repeated tears. Tears because of being moved are the witness of life.

When my heart is alive, there is always a force that makes me burst into tears.

There is a force that makes me burst into tears.

I like to sneak out of my bedroom in the dead of night. My ears are attached to the door of my house, listening to their peaceful sleep. I can always feel an invisible force pulling me. The warm current is pounding my heart and making me cry. ...

There is a force that makes me burst into tears.

I don't know when we started, but we don't know much about tears. As for the kind of tears that come in waves like floods, there is even less experience of impacting our fragile spiritual dam.

However, there is always a force that makes me burst into tears, and that is the power of kind words.

People's life is always much more dull. The vigorous and trivial life often makes me go from ordinary to numb, while the inner softness tends to be rigid. Beautiful words let me touch the thrilling sacred feelings and dazzling images of paramore reality again. When Hugo used beautiful words to describe how kind Esmeralda helped thirsty quasimodo, he handed a jar of water; When Andersen used beautiful words to describe how the little mermaid gave up love and even life and chose to become a floating foam on the sea, a force that touched the soul made us cry.

Like the tide

There is always a force that makes me burst into tears, and that is the power of beautiful Chinese characters.

I have been close to Chinese characters for nearly 30 years, but I can only be sure of one thing: the beauty and uniqueness of Chinese characters is a landscape that I can't fully appreciate all my life. No matter what kind of writing I touch again, I won't think it can compete with our beautiful mother tongue. When I write "mountain", "Sichuan", "sun" and "moon" into vivid pictures; When I break down "good", "beauty" and "home" into vivid symbols; When I embed my name in poems such as Don't teach Huma to climb the Yinshan Mountain, My heart is a needle stone, and How the water of the Yellow River moves out of heaven, there is always a force that makes my blood boil and tears surge.

There is always a force that makes me burst into tears, and that is the power of beautiful Chinese characters that are gradually leaving us.

I am not an antique, and I appreciate and enjoy the convenience and novelty brought by the Internet, but some unattractive online languages (in fact, some can only be regarded as symbols) make our beautiful Chinese unrecognizable and even ugly, from frog dinosaurs to the popularity of "MM" and "GG"; From "porridge" to "FB" and "TMD", we watched the beautiful China people fade away, so we had to turn our faces away sadly and let the tears drown our hearts.

Beautiful writing is the treasure of human culture, and Chinese characters are the pride of China people. Defending her beauty should be our unshirkable insistence.

There is always a force that makes me burst into tears. Let this force support my heart, and I will truly understand the meaning of tears.

There is a force that makes me burst into tears.

A seed will never germinate if it is afraid of being buried; A ship, if it is afraid of wind and waves, will never reach the other side; Humans, if they are afraid of difficulties, will never succeed!

There is a force that makes me burst into tears. Even after many years, the power of that bug will always make me cry.

It was a night in late spring and early summer. The recovered mosquitoes and flies seem to be asleep. Only people around me seem to fall asleep in the sound of my strokes across the paper. There is only one desk lamp on my desk, which is brighter than the sun in the dark night.

When I was immersed in my homework like a hill, I suddenly woke up with a bang. When I looked intently, it turned out to be a small flying insect less than 4 mm long! It stumbled sideways on an exercise book full of words, its upper body twitched and slowly shook its feet thinner than its hair. I thought it was going to die, but soon, it turned over and lay on the exercise book. I thought, where did this little thing come from? Did you "crash" with its companion? While I was daydreaming, it adjusted the little wings to be as thin as yarn. The consequences of "stopping" flying to the desk lamp can be imagined. "Bang" and "Bang" hit the burning light bulb, and it fell more heavily on my exercise book! It turned out that it was not because of the "plane collision", but because of the plane collision!

This time, it lay motionless on my exercise book, with its abdomen facing up completely. At this time, I observed its ugly pure black body more carefully. Its six feet are slightly curled up and its back is slightly arched. I wonder if those two times just broke its weak part. I want to dress up! But there is nothing I can do. I can only pray for it silently, pray that it will get up quickly and pray that it will successfully pounce on the light it is chasing! I looked dignified, held my breath and stared at this poor and respectable little life with wide eyes.

It was a long time before it stretched out its small tentacles like a sleeping beauty who had slept for a hundred years. When she realized that she was facing the weather, she used her wings together, made great efforts but successfully turned over and lay down on the exercise book again. I smiled again. I want to sing and dance, clap my hands and cheer, but I'm afraid of scaring it. I can only hide my excitement in the deepest part of my heart and gently say to it, "Little Cute!" " Stop chasing, stop chasing, okay? Just as Kuafu will never catch up with the sun, so will you never catch up with the light bulb! "But it doesn't seem like human beings at all. It raises its stubborn tentacles, pushes back hard, flaps its wings hard and rushes to the light it yearns for. This time, 1 of "pa" shocked my heart and the whole earth! Crickets cry from outside, which seems to be the highest respect from nature! I watched it bend even more, and I couldn't help shedding tears, which flowed into my dried-up heart because I was afraid of the college entrance examination, making my heart fertile again and my strength came back!

Maybe Kuafu will never catch up with the sun, maybe bugs will always pounce on the light, maybe we failed in the college entrance examination, but how can I not cry because of my perseverance and tenacious strength?

There is a force that makes me burst into tears.

When I first saw the orphan of Zhao in Yuan Dynasty, I only felt that there were too many gags. I put down my book and slowly recalled it on the way back to my dormitory, but I realized an unusual thrilling experience.

It was a cold winter night, and the evil wind roared and hit the bare trunk of the roadside. I know these plants should be cherry trees. Nine months ago, they bloomed in pink and white clouds-but now they are as dry as dead, and there is no sign of life.

Like the murdered Zhao family.

War, killing and revenge are all too cruel and bloody. When you look at them casually as an outsider, you won't feel that kind of terror. Even if they are covered up and put flowers on their blood, they may win your smile.

Thought of here, I saw the camphor tree.

I often think that Cinnamomum camphora can actually be used as a symbol of strength. Cinnamomum camphora is deciduous, but it always falls after new leaves grow. The leaves of Cinnamomum camphora are also different, and the red, yellow and green colors are patchy. Even if they fall, they still seem to be full of strength. Cinnamomum camphora dressed itself as a cool evergreen tree, but regardless of the pain of falling leaves, it always stood proudly with a strong attitude.

Justice I introduced a word in my heart: justice stands firm, justice is unfair, and time is fair. Justice is like camphor trees sometimes abandoned in dark corners of history, just like camphor trees will shed leaves, but justice is really powerful and real power after all.

For example, the civil servants of the Qing Dynasty surrendered to Tu'an Gu, but after all, there were Cheng Ying and Gongsun Chujiu.

They, for the sake of what?

This question was thrown from my mouth and collided with the oncoming north wind, and I felt a chill.

What is the meaning of justice? What kind of power is supporting justice? What kind of power makes Gongsun Chujiu willing to give his life? What made Cheng Ying endure humiliation for 20 years?

What kind of power made the Japanese old man Weishan go all out to prove the crime of the war of aggression against China? What force made Brandt kneel?

Turning the corner and turning around, I saw a white eyebrow.

A Bai Mei blooms a small bud in the cold wind.

Just like Wu Zhao, the orphan who can finally restore all the truth.

I finally understand that it is the power of life that makes us believe that justice will eventually overcome evil.

Life, life