Beautiful prose 1 Thanks for life, it makes people find the way ahead even in the dim light.
Dancing on a broken blanket under a dim street lamp is a dream that Yao Qifeng, a girl, sticks to. Driven by true love, singing gave up everything and supported the family with her husband who was a street vendor;
Encouraged by their faith, the workers in Wangjialing mine disaster survived with a fictional "rescue story".
Life always teaches us how to face the immediate difficulties, and it always shines for us.
Thanks to life, people have learned to be indifferent.
Zhuangzi, a great philosopher on the edge of autumn water in the distance, slowly drank the cold spring of life.
The unhurried pace of life makes him see through fame and fortune and transcend life and death; It is life that keeps him distracted and out of it.
So he learned to be indifferent, "the belt will gradually widen and he will not regret it", which is exactly what he said.
He is different from Qu Zi, who finally failed to understand life and left a tragedy on the Guluo River.
We should do the same for life and dreams.
How long the pursuit of knowledge is, there must be many curves and straight lines intertwined.
What we have to do is to calm our hearts, turn the song straight, and overcome difficulties with faith and hard work; Go straight into your voice, never be limited to what you get now, and strive for higher goals in order to achieve a great cause.
Love, my insomnia makes you cry, and these tears actually fall into our story, making me tremble, making me uneasy, making me wander in the deepest night, in those misty perceptions.
Only the solitary lamp and the net number help my wandering soul. Those souls are yours, and you have taken them away completely long ago.
Completely put it in your drifting bag, gently, gently packed in a corner, but no one patronized.
Love and tears are all about insomnia.
I am glad that I am innocent, because I was caught by your beautiful chaos and infinitely expanded by your naughty entanglement. The loneliness of waking up from your chaotic dreams makes this expansion overwhelming.
Therefore, I am evil, and my every move at this moment has rendered a color that makes you hate. You should know how inaccurate this is.
Love, it's no big deal
Just insomnia, just sleeping, just a matter of schedule.
You know, long before you, I was forged into this virtue by years. Years stretched out their thick palms to play with my fatigue, which made me black and white upside down. It has been ten years since I was out at night.
One day and one night cannot be changed.
There used to be such a beautiful figure hovering in your mind. The heartbeat of that second determines your love for several years. Although it is a pity that we are not together after chasing, it is hard to forget that we are still classmates now. Maybe I can see it every day. When your eyes met, was your heart touched and your eyes a little embarrassed?
I've been in college for a year, and I'm growing up. I found that I didn't hate her anymore. I just feel what she looks like. It's a lie to say that I let go, but I don't care anymore and my heart is a little wider. When I grow up, I seem to be too tired to care.
The attitude towards love has also faded, and it seems to be cold. A person can be very good, as long as he is happy and there are no women around him.
Beautiful Prose 4 Dawn, sunrise, wind blowing sorghum, that is the distance in my dream.
It looks like a fairy under the blue sky and white clouds. Mountains, rivers, grasslands, land under my feet, and fragrant fragrance are all the distant places where I travel.
Now, the distance is not a dream. Gently touch yesterday's life, yesterday's distance, everything, no regrets, that is my youth company, the flowing water of youth, rippling in the rich distance.
The road ahead, the new distance, the ambition of a thousand miles, my heart remains the same, fishing songs late is my dream, and holding up the sun tomorrow is the direction of my efforts.
Note: I loved dreaming when I was a child, and I was very happy, even though it was bitter at that time. When I was writing poetry, I trained successors and wanted to arrange retirement. Therefore, I have to "hold up the sun tomorrow" and prepare to go back to my hometown, that is, the water town. At sunset, people in their hometown go fishing and sing late. Today, both dreams have come true.
Life is actually a journey, and we are all travelers. We travelers go through difficulties and dangers just to experience life.
You may delay, but time will not. In a blink of an eye, I have gone through a quarter of my life journey. Standing in a quarter of my life and looking back, I feel very lucky. I'm not overly worried about the passage of time. Because in the past years, there are too many things worth remembering. The world is vast and complex. What we can experience in our life is always limited. Therefore, we must always cherish the aftertaste.
Recalling the past should be a compulsory course in our life. The past can provide us with courage, experience and lessons to move forward. Every time we have a aftertaste, we will have a different experience. Then every experience will become a source of strength for our continuous progress and eventually become the most precious wealth in our lives.
As long as I can remember, I am no longer hungry and I am warm, which is the result of my family's lust for darkness. In those years, life in our family looked better, although our two brothers were getting married, building a house and the old house was completely renovated. Everyone in the village envied our old house as the first modern house behind the brick bag in the village, and then two new wings were built. They all said that my parents were "blowing French" and life suddenly got better. But who knows how much effort and sweat our family has paid, and how many days and nights have passed in such a good life?
I often remember my mother chanting to me: "The older generation often said: A thousand fives is better."
There is a big sparrow's nest in the air conditioning pipe hole. They have lived in this room for almost as long as I have. The insulation layer outside the refrigeration pipe has long been cleaned by them, replaced by grass clippings and feathers.
As for why I mentioned it, it is because the inner skin has also been pecked through, and their dander and feces are allergens of my nose. Some people want to drive them away and fill their nests with cement, but despite years of neighborhood feelings, birds lost by one person will feel uncomfortable every morning.
I think it is more appropriate to block up the indoor side with paper, just to cure my illness and not disturb the life of birds. The most important thing is that the days are as calm as ever. ...
With the coming of winter, yellow leaves fall with the wind.
Tassel has changed the thin coat into a thick cotton-padded coat, but she is still shivering with cold, and there is the sound of students stamping their feet in the classroom. The dean's sharp eyes looked around, and the breathing in the classroom instantly became unusually calm.
There is a layer of white fog on the glass. Wipe the tassels slowly with cold hands. It turns out that there are already white snow flowers scattered outside, falling to the ground one by one, forming a meaningless pattern. It's snowing. Will he come?
The happiness of tassel is revealed to the corners of the mouth. I don't even know. I used to be a smiling girl. Every time she smiled, she was just a stranger. Her smile turned into a wry smile.
Sometimes tassels would rather be a snowflake and fall into Anne's world. When she becomes transparent water and then follows the air, she will always be by Anne's side.
I thought I wouldn't be afraid to go alone at night anymore. Enough darkness, enough understanding.
But suddenly my hair stood on end at midnight. Dark alleys, no lights flashing, are all passing memories.
I thought I would fall asleep easily. Physical fatigue cannot take away loneliness. So I'm wide awake.
Dreaming of many people, maybe many people are forgetting themselves. Always return at the moment you click on the list. I am thinking, there is no time and distance, but I am afraid that opening my mouth will expose the estrangement that is difficult to resolve.
Eleven days a month, although busy, but I understand how cold and cheerless. Those once imagined events ushered in the moment of realization.
I don't know.
Beautiful prose article 10 "I am used to waiting, so I can't help but stand back to the original point of waiting in reincarnation." Has nothing to do with the status quo, but fell in love with Xi Murong's waiting.
On the way home, I like the window seat as always. It's sunny after the rain, and the wind is refreshing.
I have been unable to explain my inexplicable stagnation before. It turns out that we are saying goodbye to today. Maybe it represents one person, maybe it represents one thing. Therefore, it is necessary to keep a diary, leaving traces of everything that is about to, will soon and has disappeared.
Close it when you finish writing, but those of yesterday dare not open it. I miss you so much that I can't melt.
I want to talk to someone sometime. There was only silence at the opening.
Beautiful prose 1 1 I am here, facing the roar of the wind and the cold of the night!
Lonely heart, full of seasonal acacia.
My tears, condensed into a white shirt, just to give you a little warmth and listen to your inner call with my soul. Because of me in the world of mortals, your life is no longer lonely in the long winter.
I know how much trampling and destruction I will endure when I fall into the dust. The cold wind will torture my weak body, and the hot sun will erode my pure face.
Although time is so short, my love has no regrets. Life is your forever companion. Even if you die, let this hold clear tears and moisten your thirsty heart.
Next spring, look at the flowers everywhere, that's my smile to you.
Beautiful prose 12 You sit under the winter lights and look through the history books in your hand. In your mind, images are constantly rising and falling, quietly forming and disappearing. This flickering picture in a trance may be a long forgotten history. What do you want to keep, but you finally choose to give up, because you know that you can't catch time after all. The wall of the old city is gone, the woman who smashed clothes by the Weihe River is gone, and the bonfire in the sky is gone-the slow and elegant history is finally getting farther and farther.
Everything seems to have passed in an instant. I saw it and went out again. You say love and hate, love and hate will eventually leave with time. If you leave, you can't come back, and it becomes meaningless.
So, you close the book, get up and go to bed, and go deeper into your dream.
Beautiful Prose 13 people are alive, they may have lived in only one house, or they may have lived in many houses all their lives, but by no means every house they have lived in can be called home, let alone hometown. They are usually just temporary shelters.
In my mind, the housing in Nantong is a temporary shelter, and I am mostly there to make a living; The house in Wuxi can be regarded as my new home. My wife is from there and my son was born and raised there. And my real hometown can only be Ryan's house, which is irreplaceable. There, I spent a painful and wonderful time in my life, with too many footprints, too many tears and too many cheers.
Beautiful Prose 14 My hometown has four distinct seasons, the sun and the moon shine forever, streams flow forever, green hills linger, rain and sunshine alternate, and wind, rain, frost and snow take turns to patronize. In the meantime, sometimes it really makes me feel "United with everything", but I don't know the passage of time and the waste of time.
At the beginning of this year, I went back to celebrate my grandfather's 90th birthday. Later, I went to my hometown specially. When I saw the scene of the collapse of my hometown, I felt a sense of desolation in my heart and immediately lost interest. At that moment, I really realized that my hometown was originally a treasure, and its value could never be estimated. I'm really scared. I'm afraid that one day I will lose it. It is impossible to protect in situ. It is not easy to tear it down and rebuild it. It seems that the only thing I can do at present is to write an article to remember it.
Beautiful prose 15 is easy to feel a little spring. Although there are no noisy songs and dances, no bright pink and willow green, there are some white snow deposited by plum trees, some red silk deposited by peach trees, and a little oily green drilled in the fields. It still makes people feel that spring-it has already stepped into the door. Although even rainy days still make people feel a little chilly, when it rains, there will be vitality and greenery, and there will be a feeling of moving.
The poet said: If winter comes, can spring be far behind?
Now that spring has come, it is right under our feet. What are we hesitating about? Stand Up! Smile-towards spring.
Beautiful prose 16 liking someone is the feeling you enjoy alone.
I won't let you know your inner joy. I also admit that one of the reasons is that I dare not accept the reality. How cruel is reality? I'm afraid I can't shed a trace of pain in the face of its ferocious face.
You walked behind me and hit my head. Looking at your distant back, I suddenly felt a layer of joy.
How to put yourself in the position of understanding the word "contentment"? Now I finally understand. There is still not much contact between us, and even the chances of getting along are less than before. But at least I can see you smiling at me every day, and I feel happy.
Like, willing to wait.
Beautiful prose 17 There are the most beautiful starry sky in summer. The dense stars, the distant sky, and the bright stars that don't shine are music that keeps drifting and changing. ...
This music belongs to my childhood, my teenager, and my half youth. Then, when I lived in the city, it seemed to disappear.
In fact, it is still playing there, but I have never heard of it or seen it-there is no real sky over the city.
As compensation, I must create the sky I need in my heart, put the stars on it and arrange the upper hand. ...
But I can't create dewdrops on the leaves when camping, and the night is contained in dewdrops.
People who have only one feeling must be poor. I admit it.
Beautiful Prose 18 The iron of sunshine is touched again and again in the ravine, and the wounds of the earth are slowly healed in the recuperation of flowers.
In July again, I stood on the hillside of Yongxing Village like a white chrysanthemum, staring at the village that was once in tears because of the tremor, and was silent.
Blessing, my earth, let peace stay forever.
Blessing, the person I love, let happiness last for a long time.
The blue tent, like a patch, spreads on the green ridge and will gradually disappear. Last year's nightmare taught us to cherish life and be strong in the face of difficulties.
Dry your tears, hide your crying, stick to your strength and bear bravely. We are heroes.
In July, in this beautiful golden time, the voice of a new life sounded everywhere.
Beautiful prose 19 Who saw the sad land and cried with their backs to us?
Bright red wild lilies opened their trumpet-shaped mouths one after another and sang cheerful songs in the wind on the hillside. The song is clear and pure, like the sound of nature.
Colorful butterflies are dancing in the grass, weaving the sweetness of love life. Na Xiang looks beautiful and emotional, just like a dream.
Sunshine protects life, and misery awakens hope.
There is great love before the disaster. With one heart and one mind, we have written a great chapter in earthquake relief with actions. Love is constantly magnified in transmission, and true feelings reflect brilliant light in fusion.
I can't forget it. In a humble tent, a young mother who lost her child is nursing a baby who lost her mother. So broad-minded, so passionate.
The earth has buried the sadness.
I was in a good mood when I slept, because I was happy to see my long-lost friend, but I couldn't help crying.
I am always such a worthless person, living in the old door of memory and refusing to go out. I miss, recall, think, feel lonely, hurt, and many irrelevant and real emotions overlap. Maybe it's because of physical discomfort, maybe it's because of something else. I can't help crying on my pillow in the dead of night. I don't know why. I don't know what I did wrong. Some friends always leave without even saying goodbye. Some friends are getting cold. In fact, they are very afraid of this. They are afraid of becoming rootless duckweeds and can't find the way forward.
The network was empty in the middle of the night. Normal people are sleeping and dreaming. It's time to rest now. It's time to have a rest. ...
It's raining harder and harder outside the window, and it hurts to turn over. God, when will it light up?
Beautiful prose 2 1 spring breeze is different from the heat in Xia Feng, the bleak autumn wind and the cold wind in winter. Only the warmth and softness of the whole body spread all over the world.
During the day, the warm spring breeze blows. If you are enjoying a beautiful story, you will always feel refreshed and relaxed. Facing the spring flowers; Listen to the sound of the wind, such as the pulse and rhythm of spring; That faint micro-delivery, let the rustling green leaves play a beautiful and beautiful song, and let the seedlings wave their hands and wish the arrival of spring.
At night, when you open the window, the spring breeze blows, full of warmth and fragrance; It's so touching that the willows dance in the moonlight. ...
Beautiful Prose 22 The wind in spring is sweet and green. Such as faint tea fragrance, floating from the distant sky, she awakened the grass, blew away the green willows and wrinkled a pool of lake water ... At this time, there was a warm spring breeze, which was the sound of the wind: the sound of frog drums; Every word of the bird is singing; The calf's gentle call is the blessing and hope of spring.
The spring wind is full of flowers. If the flowers are in full bloom, they will come in bursts, but they can't be avoided, and they are full of flowers; Just like a young virgin's long and supple body fragrance, it gradually overflows with her graceful figure and stays in the distance. ...
The spring wind is full of warm poetry. Her feathers and waves are simple and clear, warm and comfortable. If it is a beautiful girl's bun, it is bright, bright and dazzling; It is also like a brisk Tang poem, which is touching and affectionate.
Beautiful Prose 23 The wind in spring, she smiles every day, awakens the sleeping seeds and blows the yellow land green. This is the sound of sowing seeds in spring, and she begins to write beautiful poems and green chapters.
Xiao Yangchun in my life, do you have this green poem? Looking back at the life journey of mountains and rivers, rugged roads and thousands of trees, I always feel that the spring wind is too beautiful, too beautiful and too charming, and it also makes my blooming youth tree full of jingling poems, echoing life one after another.
Oh, then wake up my silent heart again with the softness of spring breeze, and greet the soft and thin autumn grass with the enthusiasm of youth.
After more than 24 years, the old house will eventually turn into a handful of soil and blend into this land, and there will be no trace. However, we will still remember, remember the heavy wooden door, remember the stone mill in the hall, and remember those warm drops.
The old house has long been submerged in the footsteps of time, leaving only broken tiles and ruins. The change of tree rings, the old house, has long since disappeared. I carefully placed this memory, even if the time turns yellow, the past is still vivid, leaving an ancient mark to stay with me, green and beautiful. Grow into a story and tell it to your lover and children.
When it comes to autumn frost, I think silently, and autumn is strong.
What a touching scene, the leaves dance with the wind, the children in the field are waiting to go home, the birds are home, and the wind is singing the last love song.
At this moment, there is always a feeling of drifting away, either going to the south, returning to the plain, or following a fate migration. These details are experiencing different wonderful things.
The moonlight is also hot and cold, and on the empty land, the footsteps are still in a hurry, and the fate of being chased floats all the way in the rolling world of mortals.
Deep path, a bug is caring for the indifferent mood.
Autumn is getting deeper and thicker.
When the noise sinks to the bottom and passes through the bleak tunnel of time, it seems that a subtle and tenacious voice is heard, rising slowly in the land, and a beautiful reunion is brewing.
The night is very thick and the autumn is very thick. What about your concerns?
Will there be a perfect reply when we meet again next time?
Before going to bed, I said to myself, rogue, cherish your life now. She is so beautiful.
Although I haven't handled one thing well and lost my friends during this time, on the whole, I'm trying my best. I am not a saint. I can only grasp the main contradiction that is most important to me now, and I can only try to grasp the most important people and the most important things.
I said to the daytime, life without quarrels is really beautiful; I said to the night, it's good to be awake and worried; I told important people that we are really doing well now; I told my friends that I have a smile on my face now; I told my studies that I still miss you every day; I told my life that I am really happy now.
Facing the little school life left, I think if I end up in this attitude and way, I will have no regrets. Just, there are still a few months, will there be any changes?