Love is a piece of sunshine shining in winter, which makes poor and sick people feel the warmth of the world; Love is the spring in the desert, which makes people on the verge of despair see the hope of life again; Love is a ballad floating in the night sky, which gives spiritual comfort to lonely and helpless people. Love is a beacon that shines in the dark, allowing lost ships to find a harbor;

Mother is a tired cup of Longjing. When you are weak, you only need a few mouthfuls to refresh yourself. Mother be a piano player in trouble. ※. When I am depressed, the elegant melody comes and my eyes turn green immediately. Mother is a breeze in frustration. When you are frightened and sad, I will wipe away your anxious sweat and tidy up your messy thoughts. Mother is a crutch in trouble. When you fall, help you find the center of gravity and support a hopeful vilen.

A friend is a guitar in a happy day, playing the happiness of life for you. A friend is the spring breeze in a sad day, which gently blows away the sadness in your heart. ※. Friends are mentors and friends on the road to success, enthusiastically leading you to the sunshine zone; A friend is a bright light in failure and depression, silently driving away the haze of the soul for you.

Classic rhyming quotations

There is no windtight wall, no hanging beam.

I didn't mean to be different. How can I have outstanding taste?

Loneliness is a person's carnival, and carnival is the loneliness of a group of people.

I smiled at the sky from the horizontal knife and went to sleep after laughing.

The whole beautiful text

Clear water is in the distance, the boat is splashing, the ripples caused by sculls are rippling in the middle of the lake, the reflection of the mountain is hazy and rustling, and a fishing boat is singing at night. Poetry is like a volume, the sound of the flute is bleak, and the evening scenery by the river is like a dream. Floating fishermen, their good intentions splashed all over the sky and buried their mood. Relieved, wisp up pieces of bamboo leaves and release some memories; Fishing boats sing late and drift away, turning into bursts of rhythm and spreading in the ears, sweeping away anxiety, rolling up hope and grinding away yesterday's memories.

In midsummer, the wind blows at night, and the drizzle in the air is heavy. Sitting in an empty window, it's quiet and life is dry. The rain wakes up like a drop of silk, and the long journey is half bright and half dark. The sky is really breaking the waves and sailing, and the emotions are different. 、

In the dream of misty rain and dark flowers, how comfortable it is for daisies to wrap their thoughts around the strings? In the dream that the flute is euphemistic and the tea is fragrant, the lotus fragrance turns into tenderness, and what kind of charm it is to use flowers to find shadows. If you want to ask Iraqis, you don't say anything, turn around, smile back, play the flute with your fingers, and sing a song gently, telling how much honey is sweet outside your dream. In a trance, the flute was broken and tears were wet. Look up and sigh, and the flowers fall between the eyebrows. The river wind shattered the shadow, the dream came lightly, and the flowers fell into the idle pool.

Walking in the colorful rain, the drizzle is like my tears, the falling flowers are like my thoughts, dancing gently in the dust and scattered in the dream. Since then, that refreshing fragrance has been flying in my world. When the poem is drunk, blow a lingering song and surprise a tree. Three points of summer scenery and seven points of running water make the wine very sweet. Charm Ran Ran, long sleeves.

Flowers make a thin shadow, and the moon waves. Put on a dress and worry, dream with a curtain on your pillow, look at the stars and count the red fragments gently. The evening breeze blows slightly, and the fragrance floats. Inhale and exhale, the fragrant breath enters the dream, and I wander freely and have a lot of thoughts. Who knows that the flowers fall into the world of mortals, but the dream is full of spring? In the dream, whose Yu Di is lingering and whose song is melodious and tactfully? The sound of the wind is like the sound of nature on the earth. The echo drops from the running water, crosses the mountains and falls in the wind hundreds of times.

Walking slowly in the passage of time, wandering, remembering my fleeting time like a flower: the dissolved moon, the faint wind, and finally, everything vanished. An ordinary piece of paper, bearing the fog of the fundus, the yearning for ink fragrance spread from the fingertips in a wisp of toad glow. Sleeves fluttering, past and future, who will solve it now? Spring flowers and autumn moon are only separated by one season. Where is my boat in poetic paradise? …… 、

A cup of fragrant tea, a handful of true feelings, a poetic, exquisite and leisurely charm; A wisp of breeze, a piece of idle clouds, a waning moon, drunk and enjoying infinite charm. Add fragrance to tea and enjoy the fragrance of the group. You were drunk before you got near the soft branches. A wisp of breeze sends a voice, and leisurely poems are fragrant. Lan Xin is very quiet. She washes away the dust in her heart. A fragrant heart melts quiet melancholy and smashes hazy thoughts. If the past is foggy, then it is so faint and leisurely, quietly away from the dust. ...

Traveling all over the mountains and rivers with your heart and your thoughts with your wings are engraved with eternal affection, dreaming of scenes in waiting and watching. The morning sun turns into snow, and tears fly catkin dance. Keep cutting, you will be confused, and you will always have acacia. Love ties Qian Qian knot, who can solve the problem? In drifting, waiting for warmth, waiting for flowers to bloom, flowers are paintings, flowers are poems. The world is cold, the world of mortals is like a dream, but the gold powder is like a secluded place. Prosperity and beauty can also be quiet and far away.

Looking back several times, the petals of the years fly from the fingers and fall in the curtain of purity of mind, sighing in a thousand ways and always flowing out in spring. Time flies like water, prosperity is exhausted, and you will live forever. The scattered words will eventually be scattered silently in the dust of the past ... Gracefulness is still blurred, and the sad knot cannot be untied; Wei Lan is still not surprised. She tastes like a pulse. Flowers fall on my shoulders, vaguely conscious. Flowers are easy to find now, but they are empty.

Wandering in the dust of the years, hiding in the misty rain of the fog pavilion, half covering poetry and half pouring tea. Stand alone at the lintel of a paper lamp and play a serenade.