1. Lao She's "Four Generations under One Family", Zhang Ailing's "The Golden Lock" and Xiao Hong's "The Field of Life and Death" should be beautiful. The more paragraphs, the better. Four generations under one roof 1. Suffering is the most practical and inevitable; However, if a person wants to live, he can't help but try to find a breakthrough in the predicament and escape-do his best and resign himself to fate. In short, born in this era, one should always face the danger bravely and be careful of the "most" dangerous things. You must care, fight and fight boldly. You must take being wronged as a life and suck out a little sweetness from it. When a person is frustrated, he only sees the mistakes of others, but not his own frustration. 3. He is a decent fly. Wherever there is dung, he will crowd with other flies to join in the fun. When he can't find dung, he will play with his wings with his legs, or gently bump enough paper with his head to play, as if to show that he is the world's number one fly. 4. Get up, go to sleep, walk, go to the toilet, and Da Chibao gently calls himself: "Director! The word "director" sticks to her tongue like a candy bar, and every smack is water! She was so happy and proud that she couldn't wait to jump on the roof and shout, "I'm a director." She ignored the reason why her husband only whined, but was kind to her eldest daughter and induced her to agree to this marriage. Don't be rude. For Tong Fang, she stopped challenging because her reason was "Adults don't argue with villains! "She is a director, that is, an adult! The story of golden lock 1 If things go wrong early, we will break up early. This is the most perfect part of her life. Instead of letting others add an unbearable tail to it, she might as well finish it early. A beautiful and desolate gesture ................................................................................................

Some people leave and never come back, so waiting and hesitation are the most ruthless killers in the world.

I become very low in front of you, as low as dust. But my heart likes that flowers come out of the dust. (Zhang Ailing wrote on the back of the photo sent to Hu Lancheng)

3 affection, affection We have everything, but there is no love.

If emotions and years can be torn up and thrown into the sea, then I would like to be silent at the bottom of the sea from now on. I like what you said, but I don't understand. You want to see my silence, but I don't understand.

Love is always a thousand turns. How can you love someone if you have never been abandoned or hurt? Love turns out to be an experience. I hope people will last long. What do you like? How do you feel?

3. Ten Years of Good Words and Sentences "Xiao Hong Ten Years (1932- 1942)" and "Xiao Hong Ten Years (1932- 1942)" After Lu Xun, Xiao Hong was a great modern China. She is great, because in her short life, she always reflects her conversion to the souls of the poor, women and other vulnerable groups. Her kind love, pity and sympathy are broad, which is linked with her criticism of the autocracy of national traditional culture and social injustice, showing a depth of human nature. When she expressed all this in words, she ignored any paradigm and created a free style with personal characteristics. In her literary heritage of more than one million words, there are at least two poetic tragedies, Life and Death Field and Biography of Hulan River, and a satirical comedy, Ma Bole, which is a classic.

Mr. Xu used chopsticks to turn over the contents of the serving bowl on the dining table downstairs. The vegetables are tender, not stems, but leaves, fish and the like. They are soft, without bones or thorns.

4. Red Flag Spectrum, Good Words, Good Sentences and Excerpts 1 You are a dragonfly, and you have touched my lake.

Then my memory made a skirt with ripples, and even loneliness was embroidered with brocade. At this time, I am young and beautiful. The autumn wind dispelled the cold silence on the earth, and there was a whisper in the sun.

I listened attentively, but all the news about you in the wind is called silence, and every time I miss it is called forgetting. I shouldn't blame you for not reading Ye Zhi's affectionate poems to me, because we didn't meet head-on, but you happened to pass by my lake when you were too tired. I shouldn't blame you for holding your breath with a buttonwood leaf, because your inner anchor is too heavy, and you don't expect another adventurous voyage; I shouldn't blame you. I will always remember you with a momentary lovesickness, because you have a pair of flying wings and are destined to leave me for a long journey.

You are a dragonfly, and you touched the center of my lake. Then, the sound of flapping wings gradually moved away from my panic.

But your leaving didn't calm me down, so I fell into a whirlpool of sadness. Beautiful wavy lines merge into resistance and surround my heart.

You woke me up from the depths of my dream, but only told me that you wanted to use a kite to stay away from the rain in June, and I could only stay where I was. I sealed all our secrets in the Woods and gave them to autumn.

I hid in the clothes of autumn wind and recalled my mood at that time-it was an eternal dragonfly dream, and it seemed that I woke up before I started. I mistook the ending for the beginning, and I still can't believe that the fate with you has gradually dissipated with the ripples.

You broke through my sight and disappeared into the blue sky. So I know you are not a dragonfly, and I no longer have the middle of the lake. 2 In my lifetime, I can't escape the sudden growth of the palm tangled curve. I can't stay for a day until I am sensible, but I don't know the time either. I decided to take off my feathers and complete this lonely journey alone.

And gave the peach blossom to Tao Yuanming; Qinghe to Zhou Lian Creek; Narcissus returns to ancient Greek mythology; Lilacs belong to the "Rain Lane" oil-paper umbrella; Keep the bright sadness for yourself forever. Only when I meet my soul's ferry for the first time in my life, holding an expired old ticket, quietly waiting for the last passenger ship to reach its destination ... and quietly calming the dust in the world, keeping an eternal pure land in my heart; Let all the young troubles fall into the mud and be buried quietly.

Dust washed away, empty mountains and clear rain in my heart. This is my only wish. It's just that you don't understand my delicate mind and often confuse my quiet reserve.

Perhaps, you will never touch this quiet wind, and your heart is tired, leaving only the ghost of my words hovering over you … a misty face, a state of plants. Hold your breath, in the west wind of flowing water, realize the wonderful truth of flowers and laughter at Lingshan holy meeting with the grace and agility of a bay.

"The weak willows are suspicious of the wind, the jungle is like a towel, and the smile is also embarrassing." Love for you is always quiet. Your last look and smile left me without any speculation, and I never said any sad parting.

In fact, my love for you has always been quiet, moving in my heart and wet in my eyes, making the petals of my dying heart fall. But immersed in a dream without trace, a person looked at the world coldly.

"Homeless, can tell the difference between life and death; No brothers. You can talk about Sang Ma; People waiting for me, I have no dreams to give.

The body is already like the canopy in autumn; Heart, pinned on running water, how can I be a dream girl again? "The road to wandering is always so difficult." I don't know what I'm thinking. Water and wind are empty. "

Years look at you and me across the bank, growing old inch by inch. The feelings accumulated in the words gradually fade away and grow old in the ticking of the clock.

Always a passer-by, the arrow of time shattered blx. The hustle and bustle of the city and the world of mortals can't hide the bustling desolation.

Relive the throb in your heart and often ask yourself, where should I put you? Where do you put yourself? Who is the beauty of words? Who are the words crying for? Who will words always sing for? Who makes words happy and sad? Who once sang a lifetime of concern in classic old songs? Who once said in words like water that wind and rain will always be together? Who made the only agreement in this life in autumn fairy tales? A wisp of ghosts, sitting on the cold branches, separated the past dreams with clean and quiet Leng Yan. I once told a stupid lie in a rosy dream, closed my eyes and thought I was in heaven.

When the hands of the years sharply awakened the sleeping dream, I found that I was still in place. When the carrier of time becomes a disorderly line, problems flash from the distant horizon and fall into broken language and infinite thoughts.

Fragmented tenderness, through the reincarnation of the past, was full of secular thorns trap. In the evening wind, unknown thoughts are in the valley, and there is fog all year round.

Tonight, I will write the most beautiful and touching music for you. The lingering vines trapped by the ancient road pushed the tears to the sad corner.

Hiding in the hut, listening to the bright sadness and whispers between the lines. Buddha said: live in the present.

However, my slender hands can't hold the fleeting time, so every moment has become history. I really want to go to that long and narrow old street; I really want a ferry to take me to the other side.

But I don't know, the other side is bustling with 3 thousand, can there be ferry people in the world of mortals? Qingming Lingtai, the Zen machine of searching up and down, where is the light of rebirth? You said I looked like the girl who strolled leisurely in the lilac rain lane. I sincerely pray for you on those moonlit edges and on the drizzling road.

Happy petals are pure petals, elegant because of our common dream. You are over in waterinfo. You sing day and night on the waves, and your songs are clear and clear. I followed the song to find you.

Are you and I really just separated by a flower? Knocking on the secular door, one after another, for the sake of the ups and downs of dreams, chasing the breath of sunshine, walked for a long time. Wandering under the surface of fate, watching it occasionally ripple, feeling the wings, pointing out the direction, still looking for you, following all the way with the most fragile memories and the most difficult time.

People around me come and go, and the old songs in my ears are no longer listened to. Through the moonlight outside the window, I looked out and saw the bustling lights all over the street.

Is still the world of mortals, traffic, bustling. I always meditate alone in the dead of night, feeling the emptiness that seems far away.

Leave it elegant.