Excerpts from classic essays

1 The rain gradually stopped and the warm temperature was spreading. I looked up and sniffed deeply. The air baptized by the rain was particularly fresh and refreshed. The dizzy head gradually wakes up, and the deep drowsiness instantly turns into nothingness. The triviality in memory slowly precipitates, and the world in front of us gradually becomes clear. With a little boring, I walked under the street lamp. With a trace of yearning, I woke up from my dream. It's hard to fall asleep after waking up. Reading those affectionate words, listening to the endless horns of distant vehicles and watching the pictures of people gathering and leaving, I seem to break free from the rain. I even doubt whether it really rained lightly tonight.

Light rain is nowhere to be found. They have entered life and become tonight. Their concealment caught me off guard, and I couldn't print their traces warmly. So, I finally gave up my attachment to the rain.

Although the rain has faded out of my life, I still believe that in the bright red flowers and the bright autumn moon, they have entrusted themselves to tonight.

Excerpts from classic short stories 2 Whenever snowflakes float, there is always an indelible plot that reminds me of my childhood memories of snowy days, though vague but clear. It was cold every winter at that time, but I still liked snowy days. Looking at the misty snowflakes flying all over the sky, I always have endless worries, thinking about how the crystal-clear shape of snowflakes came from and why I can come but can't come back.

When I was a child, I liked to hold snowflakes in my hands and watch them melt slowly in my hands. Water drops dripped from my fingers, and I put my hand on my mouth to keep warm. When the snow is thick, I like to have a snowball fight with my friends to see who can hit it accurately, and I am wet all over. I like making snowmen, although there is no modeling. I rolled my head on it, drew an eye, patted my big nose and stuck it on it. From a distance, I really sat there like a fat doll, and that kind of happiness remained in my heart.

Mother always greets loudly at the door, telling her to go home and keep warm. Mother patted the snowflake on me, holding the little red hand and baking it by the stove. The clothes smelled hot. Seeing the lifeless look on my mother's face, I rubbed my little hand and felt warm.

When I grew up, my mother left and slept in heaven forever. As a father myself, I know a lot of things, and sometimes I often think that a person's life is like this snowflake, which is synthesized by water vapor, gathers into weight, falls to the earth, kisses the soil quietly, leaves no trace, but moistens the earth and breeds new life.

The process of life is long. Suffering and happiness are never twin brothers and sisters. Many things are not transferred by one's own will. Some people work hard all their lives and get nothing. Some people have a rich family and a luxurious life, but they all have their own happiness in their inner world. Whether they are lucky or sad, they just have different understandings of happiness.

Snowflakes are still floating, spreading all over the earth, and life is endless, moving slowly in its own direction without stopping for a moment.

Looking at the snowflake, I felt deep love, and stretched out my hands, waiting for the flying snowflake to melt in my hands. ...

A day's plan lies in the morning, and a year's plan lies in the spring. We all long for spring, because spring is not only the season of sowing, but also the season of hope, and it is a brand-new season of life in my heart.

I don't know when, the northland, which had been sleeping for a winter, woke up quietly, only to see the endless Tangwang River flowing happily. Many unknown flowers on both sides of the strait were in full bloom, and the unwilling grass forgot its shyness in the past and decorated every inch of its hometown with its inherent green. Really entered a "grass knows spring soon, all kinds of red and purple compete for grass" affectionate world.

Whenever I am bathed in the warm sunshine in spring, whenever I walk on the green lawn, whenever I look at the homeland where I was born and raised, I dare not forget the responsibility and responsibility of men every moment.

I remember that life has been bumpy and I am treading on thin ice in a difficult world. Once upon a time, I went to other places for a living. Every night, deep homesickness always makes me miss for thousands of miles, and I don't know how many sleepless nights I have spent. There is always a belief that supports me in difficulties, and that is special self-confidence: the spring in my life will come again, and it is with this belief that I have spent one winter after another in my life.

Nowadays, due to various factors, the selected project has once again fallen into an unprecedented crisis and stood at the demarcation point of life. Looking out of the window, the earth has already frozen, and the faint snowflakes decorate a world wrapped in silver. I can't get rid of the cold in this warm room. I know that everyone is silently enduring the hardships of life, fighting against the secular, fighting against ups and downs, and fighting against life, which not only created my life that I never gave up. It has also created the indomitable character of our Chinese nation. In this cold winter, each of us is looking forward to the arrival of spring and the' spring' in life.

If winter comes, can spring be far behind?

Excerpts from classic essays 4. Grind a pool of ink for you:

The moment of blooming is not for meeting, but for the joy that will never be missed. For this moment, I endured separation, whether I live far apart or in the future, I am not afraid. Because of this uncertainty in my heart, I am willing to wait. How many seasons have bloom withered because of this waiting, so my hair turned white and the years rustled.

In my affectionate words, you sang my sadness and helplessness. Without you, I'm like a tracker on the Volga River. Years see you and I languish on the other side, and then grow old inch by inch. The feelings piled up by words slowly wither in the fleeting time, and are shot through the heart lamps with hope by the arrow of time. Will you and I eventually become passers-by

I read what I gave you once, and my heart is pounding. I often ask myself where I should put you and where I should put myself. Who makes words beautiful? For whom do words cry? For whom do you write eternal sadness, and for whom do you write happy notes? Who made a promise in spring, and who vowed to walk hand in hand in the wind and rain?

The wind blew your bitter voice in your ear, and suddenly there was silence.

Maybe you don't understand my sadness, and you are often confused by my indecision. Maybe you will never feel this peace in my heart, so I am speechless and exhausted, and I can only let the ghost of my words wander in your heart, empty and lonely.

I wrote a sad chapter for you tonight. My thoughts and tears sang softly between the lines. My slender fingers danced on the gray keyboard, grinding out a pool of ink for you, and recording the scenes of our love and hate, which never came back and forth, paragraph by paragraph.

Even on a rainy day, my tears blurred the figure of turning away. For example, after a dry year, I occasionally think that these words can be colorful and spread out in my memory, because they are the testimony of my love, because they are the continuation of my parting thoughts, and because they are a fleeting romantic relationship, short as a flash in the pan, but so unforgettable.

The dreams and wishes at that time were nothing more than the desire for a kite.

When I was a child, I saw someone flying a kite on the hillside, which gave birth to a kind of envy inexplicably. Dad is away all the year round, so it is difficult for our family to get together. I was probably still in preschool at that time, and I was at my aunt's house from Monday to Friday. Although my home is in this place, my mother has to work because she is not well off and owes a lot of debts. When I have a holiday on Friday afternoon, my aunt will send me to my mother's office.

One day, my mother was working and I was playing on the hillside. Suddenly, a kite caught my attention. At that time, I didn't know what it was. Only later I asked my mother, and she told me it was a kite.

I tried to fold the paper into a big plane, then I passed through it and pulled it to fly, but it couldn't fly like that kite. I dare not ask my mother if I want a kite. I'm not just afraid of her scolding, I'm afraid it's useless.

This dream often lingers in my memory for a long time.

Later, I grew up slowly, when I was in the second grade of primary school. At this point, our family began to live together. One day, my father and I were playing outside, and someone was selling kites. I dragged my father to the kite stand, and finally my father bought me a kite. I vaguely remember that the kite is a blue cat, and I also remember that I am happier than eating honey.

So, my father took me to fly kites everywhere. We went to the river and ran along the road. My father and I held the kite string and watched the kite fly into the blue sky. I can't fly a kite, so my father patiently taught me how to make it fly. At that time, we all smiled sweetly and happily, and our faces were filled with happiness. Although the kite sometimes falls, sometimes the thread gets entangled with passers-by ...

That's my first kite. It's very precious. After that, I had a second kite and a third kite ... I can't remember how the first kite was rotten, but I was very soft and satisfied when I recalled the scene at that time. Today, many years later, I still seem to see my father's childish smile and movements, which warmed my dream.

Holland is a country with water, flowers and pastures. On the green lowlands between canals, black and white cattle, black-headed cattle and black cattle with white waist and blue mouth are grazing. Some cows are covered with damp-proof blankets on their backs. Cattle eat grass and ruminate, sometimes standing still, as if thinking about something. The calf looks like a noble lady and has a dignified manner. The old cow, like the parents of the cattle, is very dignified. At first glance, it is surrounded by green velvet grasslands and black and white cattle. This is the real Holland. This is the real Netherlands: turquoise lowlands are embedded among canals, and herds of horses are fierce and strong, with legs as thick as cylinders and manes fluttering in the wind. Nothing can stop them from flying to Utrecht or Zfler except canals covered with deep grass. The vast Yuan Ye seems to belong to them. They are the masters and dukes of this free kingdom.

There are white sheep on the lowlands, and they are carefree on the green grassland like a paradise. The black pigs kept snoring, as if to express their approval for something. There are thousands of chickens and long-haired goats, but none. This is the real Holland.

Only in the evening did I see someone coming by boat, sitting on a small bench and milking a serious and silent cow. The golden sunset is spread in the paradise in the west, and occasionally in the distance.

The whistle sounded and then there was silence. Here, no one shouts, and the bell hanging around the cow's neck doesn't ring, and the milkman is more silent.

In the canal, ships full of milk barrels run slowly and smoothly, and cars and trains carry cans of milk to the city. After the car passed, everything was calm again. The dog didn't bark, the cows in the pen didn't make the sound of Cleisthenes, and the horseshoe didn't kick the baffle of the stable. It's really quiet Sleeping livestock, silent lowlands, dark night, only a few lighthouses in the distance glow slightly.

This is the real Holland.

Someone said before: "It is not good to feel sad because of the termination of one thing. It is precisely because the end point is the starting point that it will open up a wider world for you." On this day, we bid farewell to the happy life of primary school and embarked on a new journey of pursuing dreams in Nankai. ...

Every new starting point will be a new experience. In primary school, we had the first experience of contacting society in turn: playing hide-and-seek for the first time, being punished by the teacher for the first time, forgetting to bring homework for the first time ... In middle school, we will have more experiences to enrich our lives: doing chemical experiments for the first time, making biological specimens for the first time ... These first times bring us happiness or sadness, or sour or sweet, but they can all increase our knowledge.

At every new starting point, there will be new challenges. When we enter primary school, the challenge we face is limited to learning. As life becomes colorful, we have to deal with more and more challenges: achievement is only one aspect, and more importantly, social communication and interpersonal communication ... don't be embarrassed. It is these challenges that make us succeed or fail in all aspects, but these experiences make us grow faster and mature faster!

Every new starting point has a new feeling: every bit of life, ups and downs, are the flavor of youth, worth remembering for life.

"Life never ends." Only when you close your eyes can you say that you have finished your life. Before this, there is always a new first time, new challenges are still there, and new insights are constantly emerging ... You have to create everything yourself, and you are always running on a new journey. Life is like a cup of strong tea, you need to savor it. A new word sums up all this, and it can have a different taste at different times. This is a good tea and a perfect life.

Excerpts from classic essays 8 Now people go to the Western Heaven, buy out the spring thunder, and worry about people, just like it is too late to teach flowers.

In this life, the night hurts the past, the road is bleak and confused, and first frost sends it all the time, so I am sad.

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Rain well smoke wall, unscrupulous north wind looming, always stinging people's bones. Looking from a distance, my eyes are moist, slightly lonely and sad. After many years, I dare not write, for fear that loneliness is still deep, I will always follow. I don't want to forget, I want to forget, and I can't bear to forget. Nothing is better than dying too early or being lonely. I feel sad and sad. Sadness is greater than death in the heart, and the months in the dream are not long. Story, journey, helplessness, no one has ever known.

Carrying your bags on your back, wading through mountains and rivers, your hair is still rustling, and you have too much helplessness, which proves that you are just a wandering actor, a stranger on earth, and you can only recall your life in the voice of heartbroken. Looking back, moaning without illness is also a sediment for treating sadness. The world is cold, human feelings are evil, tears are streaming down her face, and blood is bleeding. Even if the river goes upstream, there is nowhere to escape, which leads to the broken bridge: "I can't stop, I can't bear to love." After death, I am awake and miserable, still cold but not warm, sad and unhappy, and the rest is fragmented and messy, just a spring in autumn, and then I am disheartened: "Who was I before I was born?" Who was I when I was born? Forget about the past. I am very happy now, and I am also very happy before the Old Testament. This idea is not heavy, and it is not so happy. "

The beginning of the play is also the end of the play. I am not the protagonist of the play. A "child" who is extremely loveless is full of sadness all his life and lives on the edge of loneliness, pain and loneliness. It is dark and invisible. The annual "626" is a funeral on Black Tuesday. Along the way, I was helpless and neglected, and the new words and old dreams in the book list were bleak. I don't want to talk about it anymore, but I have to fight against my long illness. For a long time, I compared myself to a lonely goose, and the poor secular society did not provide me with a shelter from the wind and rain to comfort my old life.

Life is an endless sea, and man is a boat on the sea. The sea is never calm, so people always have happiness and sadness. When nameless troubles hit, frustration and hesitation burned every nerve. But, my friend, don't forget to keep a quiet heart, and there will be no more pain.

In front of everyone, there is a road to a distant place, rugged but full of expectations. Not everyone can go very far, because there are always people who give up halfway because they don't empty the sand in their shoes. Therefore, what dominates people's feelings is not happiness and pain itself, but emotion.

When the troubles of life strike, please leave your baggage behind, look up at the bright blue sky and let the gentle blue shine into your heart. Just like when I was tired of playing as a child, I found a green and soft grass to lie down, let the sun fall on my face, and let the breeze blow my heart without wrinkles.

When surrounded by layers of setbacks, please open the window, let the refreshing fresh air in, and find a little peace in the fragrant and sweet earthy breath, just like when you were a child, you picked up dandelion whiskers, puffed up your cheeks, blew open umbrellas after umbrellas, closed your eyes in surprise and made a wish. In this way, there is more comfort and joy in my heart.

When the helpless melancholy comes, please open your eyes, watch the sunset and listen to the insects singing and birds singing. Just like when I was a child, I listened to the crickets in the yard and looked up and counted the twinkling stars in the sky. In this way, all the annoying noises gradually fade away, and what you have is a quiet heart.

Keep a quiet heart, and you will sincerely sigh: even if I am not happy enough, don't frown. Life is too short, why should I study hard?

Keep a quiet heart, and you will understand that broadness can dilute sadness and tranquility can dispel confusion. Yes, no one knows how far it is, but open the window of the soul and let the happy sunshine and moonlight flood in, and a quiet heart will have an eternal happy song.

Keep a quiet heart, and you can constantly surpass and challenge yourself. Even if the distance is an eternal place, something will be born-a miracle. Excerpt from Youth Digest

Excerpts from classic essays 10 and persistence are doomed to go through storms, but persistence tells us: "Sunshine always comes after storms." Walking with persistence is doomed to face loneliness or bitterness. But insist on telling us: "What's the harm in getting the fragrant rose with thorns all over your body?" Insist on always looking at us with firm eyes: "Come with me and you will get a basket of surprises."

Madame Curie, who walked persistently, told us: "I am willing to explore the unknown elements persistently, which brings me infinite pleasure and surprise." Edison, who walked persistently, said, "I must achieve what I have determined." Even if I fail thousands of times, who can say that I can't see success in that 10 1 time? " Beethoven, who walked persistently, said, "Music is my life, and I am as obsessed with music creation as I am with my own life." Sima Qian, who walked with perseverance, told us: "Because I saw the persistent eyes that my father gave me when he died, my pen for recording history could not stop ..."

Persistence is the perseverance that drops of water and wears away stones. Persistence is Kuafu's never-ending pace of chasing the sun. Persistence is the firm belief of Jingwei in reclaiming land. ...

On the road of life, if we choose a partner, then we should choose to persist. Keep going, just like being with camels in the desert, we will definitely find a beautiful oasis at the end of the vast sand sea.

Appreciation: Clean and neat works. It can be seen that the author's writing skills are very deep, and this exquisite article is revealed from the author's pen. Maybe the more suffering you experience, the more sweetness you can feel. In this bitter and sweet, we need that persistent connection, persistent struggle for hope, and suffering for hope. What awaits us may be failure or hardship, but we still have youth and we can make a comeback. The flame of life has dyed our sky red.

Excerpts from classic essays 1 1 The weather is sunny and sunny, which is a good day to go out and play. The destination of this autumn tour is located in Dome Mountain, which has the reputation of "the first famous mountain in Suzhou"

In the morning, we first came to Sunwu Cultural Park. As soon as I stepped into the Sun Wu Cultural Park with a strong cultural atmosphere, I couldn't help but see the heroic spirit of Sun Wu galloping on the battlefield. Entering the lobby, a solemn bronze statue of Sun Wu stands in the hall. There is a wooden screen behind the bronze statue, engraved with a complete bronze version of Thirteen Articles of the Art of War. We also watched the dynamic "Suzhou prosperity map", in which people were rowing boats and singing operas ... showing a thriving scene, which made people feel very novel and interesting.

After bidding farewell to Sun Wu Cultural Park, we came to Wanniao Park not far from it.

Compared with Sunwu Cultural Park, the atmosphere of Wanniao Park is much more cheerful and lively. Stepping into the garden gate, a large group of snow-white pigeons landed in front of us, as if welcoming our arrival, which attracted us a surprise. Further on, I was attracted by what I saw. Elegant swans float quietly on the water, flapping their wings from time to time, splashing a large splash, as if an extraordinary opera was in front of them. Look, isn't that a slender flamingo with red feathers? From a distance, they are like burning flames, which have dyed the lake red, the sky red and our eyes red. The most beautiful bird is naturally a peacock. We marveled at the colorful peacocks and colorful feathers.

Then, we watched an interesting parrot show. Lovely parrots can walk a tightrope at high altitude and carry buckets with chains. When walking a tightrope, perhaps because of fear, the parrot took a few steps forward and began to shrink back, constantly retreating. However, with the encouragement and help of the breeder, it bravely completed this difficult performance. This makes us sit up and take notice.

Happy times are always short. We should go back to school. approach

Before leaving, the students reluctantly bid farewell to the clever bird.

This autumn outing is really hard to forget!

Excerpts from classic essays 12 The flowing light is like water, and the flowing years are silent;

Youth is a river with four distinct seasons. It rushes through life. It's short, but it smells good for a long time. This is unforgettable. Perhaps, the passage of time can awaken the tears in the depths of youth: perhaps, it also awakens the shopping malls buried in our hearts for a long time. Such a day, a person, a period of time, a quotation, a clear river, a feeling. ...

A person will be unhappy, uneasy and even unwilling because of the ups and downs of life. But never give up, just like a meteor across the sky, go forward for the starry sky, not to mention always accompanying. So I like to sit by the window and watch the sunrise and sunset, hold loneliness in my arms, lick the flowers at the funeral in the almost frozen night sky, and not think about those dark clouds. I still remember the sunset and the flight of the lonely duck just to watch the sun. Although he is very glorious, autumn water is hard to grow. As night falls, the night flies in the bright night sky, the moon climbs into the sky and the stars stay up all night. At this moment, the prosperity of ice seems to find some comfort.

Holding the moon, the soul gazes at the ponytail slope, only to find that in the fleeting years, the sun, the moon and the stars are just a foil. Injury seems to have labeled the night. Twilight is overflowing and the sunset glow is dotted. People say that time is the palm print in their hands. As time goes by, they can only watch it deepen, but they can't return to the sky. Maybe at this moment, I can only listen to silence and laughter in the morning frost and rain. The road of life is difficult. If there is a smooth road, perhaps as a person born in sorrow, it is easy to die.

Excerpts from classic essays 13 Every childhood is a happy ballad, whether it is past, present or future. Perhaps, the material conditions and mental environment of childhood are different, but they can't stop the scale from time to time in the long river of memory, and every bit is childlike.

Do you still remember that the town was not a cold face wrapped in reinforced concrete at that time, and the countryside was still surrounded by fences? Farmhouse yard, sparse hedges, lilacs or pink bowls of hibiscus branches fluttering in the wind, forming the most touching appearance in our eyes.

You still remember that the sky at that time was like a lake of blue water, and sometimes white clouds floated leisurely, being led by the wind and changing in various shapes, which gave us a different kind of thinking. Azadirachta stood by the pond behind the house, spreading tall green umbrellas and dense azadirachta flowers, which covered the crown of the tree, lilac-like lavender and butterfly-like delicacy. The air is full of flowers and the unique fragrance of earth.

Do you still remember that in the early morning, by the river, water vapor was transpiration in the sun, and in the winding river, milky white and transparent fog was floating, as light as clouds and as elegant as yarn, which made us always feel as if we had entered a fairy tale world. Bright beads are hung on the tip of the green grass, which is full of color under the refraction of sunlight, which makes us feel a lot of joy and impulse, no matter whether our shoes and hair are wet by dew.

Do you still remember the rape flowers, alfalfa flowers and tofu flowers in the fields in spring? We are like caged birds, cheering and laughing in the fields. Green vegetable fields, clear canals, swallows' nests and kites flying freely in the blue sky are fixed in pure memories like negatives.

Excerpts from classic essays 14 Since we were born, our life has been like a huge clock. The dial is not a scale, but words such as "ideal", "frustration" and "success", and the accuracy of that pointer is related to our life. ...

Confucius said in Sichuan: "The deceased is like a husband." Indeed, time is sometimes unpredictable and intangible, and at this intangible moment, our clock begins to turn with the passage of time.

At present, the pointer points to "frustration", so when we are toddlers, the god of fate exerts its divine power, and "frustration" plays a role. As a result, we fell when we were toddlers. At this time, our perseverance and endurance have also improved. When we get up, the pointer points to "success".

After several twists and turns, we also grew up and entered adolescence. At this stage, the incidence and implementation rate of crime is extremely high. Some teenagers set the clock faster for money, and his life changed. The hands on the clock lost their precision and stayed between making mistakes and repenting, which led to his inner contradictions. Blinded by the immediate interests, he chose to rob and destroy this beautiful youth.

By the third day, I feel that time is not enough. A mountain of test papers, like a flood of exercises, flooded my brain with "functions", "laws" and "symbols of elements" every day until the end of the senior high school entrance examination. This is the pointer of the clock pointing to "ideal" and "decadence". Some people can't stand the bitter suffering and choose decadence, passing by their ideals.

In life, you don't need to spend every day too blindly and too quickly. You should learn to master the speed and accuracy of the clock. Only in this way can you grasp life and dance with confidence and elegance under your own blue sky.

15 "dream" is our longing for beautiful things, which can often become a person's belief and be rendered very romantic. Dreams give us a direction and a goal, which can make people great. Man's greatness is to pursue his dreams.

Dreams are longing and exploration!

Since ancient times, flying in the sky like a bird has always been a human dream. The Wright brothers' dream of flying comes from a flock of geese flying over their heads. In order to realize this dream of flying, they have worked tirelessly for many years; Finally, on the day of 65438+February in xxxx, Voyager I, the world's first manned aircraft, flew into the blue sky. The Wright brothers realized a common wish of the whole world.

Dream unwilling, but struggle!

The Beijing Paralympic Games began slowly. Under the eyes of the whole world, Li Yue, a girl from Beichuan, aged1/kloc-0, was sitting in a wheelchair, dancing flexibly, and a song "Never-ending Dance Steps" made countless people cry. The girl who lost her left leg forever in the Wenchuan earthquake firmly believes that disaster can destroy limbs, but it can't destroy the will of life. As long as the dream is still there, the pace of pursuing it will never stop.

Dreams are expectations, not persistence!

Beethoven, a famous composer, lost his hearing, which is a major setback in life for a musician, but it is only an episode for Beethoven. Beethoven continued his road of music with his indomitable spirit. Finally, Beethoven overcame the obstacles caused by deafness, excavated endless inspiration from the painful hard rock, and guided the sweet spring of happiness; Beethoven's resistance

Memories 16 When I was a child, every spring came, I played in the warm spring breeze. But it didn't last long. Spring is only two or three months, and it has passed quickly.

There will be a spring every year, but once a year, I will grow up slowly and my personality will change. Spring has come, I have grown up, I am not a child, and I am not naive.

This makes me feel that spring is different.

You see, every life has its specific form, and every specific form contains specific life information. Regardless of height, everyone has to go through the process of birth, aging, illness and death, and there are childish and mature seasons. Whether striking or plain, we should complete a feat of life in our own specific living space and along that specific seasonal trajectory. Whether famous or not, whether born in a rich family or raised in barren sand, all, all things that germinate in spring have written an ode to life in their own unique way and with all their enthusiasm.

Compared with when I was a child, I am mature and won't do whatever I want like a child. I don't have that childlike innocence anymore.

I have an appointment with Spring this year.

When spring comes this year. I am walking on the endless prairie, walking quietly, feeling the joy of spring, listening to the laughter of spring and observing everything in spring.

Spring is the beginning of a year, the season of rejuvenation and the beginning of hope.

Spring! In spring, your arrival brings vitality and indelible hope to all things on the earth!