Notes before the text of a book or after the title of an article.
Melodious piano music is always the microwave of thoughts in a quiet night, and memories are crystal clear in the microwave.
A picture that has not been fixed is flashing: the glorious city of fire, wandering in the cross street; In the sunny spring, I happily planted the tree in my heart; Under the fallen banyan tree, a person sobbed quietly; Looking forward to the waves of the sea in the windy dusk. Whether they are happy, sad, quiet or restless, their memories are full of them.
Memory is not a silent movie, there are audible music, laughter, crying, and sometimes crazy howling. Memory is not tasteless boiled water, it has the taste of rice, warm rice fragrance; There is a strong smell of wine; And the sweetness of honey, the warmth and sweetness.
Open the memory notes and record the colorful yesterday. Every page tells the story of yesterday.
Laughter and happiness are angels in memory. Every time I think back, when I meet them quietly, happiness will always hang on my smiling mouth. In sadness, I suddenly feel that the world is very beautiful, very happy, very gratified to admire, there are always bright sunny days and more brilliant sunshine along the way.
History is a memory, a colorful memory. The prosperity of a dynasty, the decline of a dynasty, the prosperity of culture and humiliating treaties, whether personal history or social history, are deeply engraved on the wall of memory. The memory of the past is still jaw-dropping, but in memory, it can be quiet, calm and quiet. In hindsight, the striking marks on the memory wall all point to yesterday, warning today.
The fragmented past is entangled in the thread of memory. Like people, he seems to be imperfect. He wanted to throw away those gloomy memories, but he refused to leave. He wants to stay. He said: Without darkness, where can there be light? I move forward with all my memories. After I left, I found that he was too important to be discarded.
Heroes don't mention the heroic memories of the past, as if they were excluded, and the past seems to be excluded from the memory. Don't! This is not the true meaning of memory, and memory is also realistic. He is not far away, unreal. He closed his eyes and reviewed what he had written in the past. An invisible force emanated from his memory and spread throughout his body. He stood up, clenched his fist and walked to tomorrow. Let all those who think that memory is just meaningless nostalgia be ashamed.
No matter whether what remains is the most beautiful or not, whether what remains will become haggard or not, or whether what remains is tears or gratification, memories, open his heart, reminisce with them on the road of life and fly high together!