We can't indulge in yesterday's yellow flowers and forget the more beautiful scenery ahead, and we can't give up the stronger shock because of a little touch. Don't miss your unforgettable role, because there will be a higher stage in the distance and life will be more colorful.
Too many memories can only hinder our minds and delay our steps towards tomorrow. Life should be a process. If we stop at a certain moment because of memories, we will give up a complete life.
Memories will bring us sadness, even if it is a happy scene, we will imagine it as bleak. And too much sadness can only make us lose our enthusiasm for life and get lost in the quagmire of emptiness. Instead of embracing a long-lost relationship, it is better to grasp the reality and do something real. Being too persistent will be a deception to feelings, an escape from reality and an irresponsible performance to one's own life. Dare to bid farewell to yesterday and shake off the dust accumulated over the years, and life will be a wonderful start.
We have no reason and capital to waste a long life, and we can't miss yesterday and then miss today because of emotions. It is a pity to miss it. Wouldn't it be even more regrettable if you don't remedy it quickly but lament it? Some mistakes are irreversible. If we don't use today to make up for them and let them wreak havoc, wouldn't our life be a great sorrow?
Flowers in spring are beautiful, but in the autumn when leaves are everywhere, why don't we take some time to taste the dead leaves? How can we taste the maturity of autumn if we can't forget the flowers and birds in spring? Every season has its own unique and beautiful scenery, even in snowy winter. So is life. Every stage of life has its due course. Even in old age, we can still have hope for our children and grandchildren. Blindly nostalgic for the past, seemingly wanting to keep the years, in fact, losing more. We should learn to forget the distant past, because forgetting does not mean losing, on the contrary, it means gaining more.
Maybe it is your beautiful stop, but it is not the destination of your soul. Perhaps it is your unforgettable support, but it is not your eternal shore. The true meaning of life lies in continuous progress. For the true meaning of life, we must set sail again and again. Look to the future! Replace yesterday that no longer exists with a better world! Say goodbye to yesterday, let's live more chic.
2. I am anxious for an essay "Walking out of my own wall". In my life, my biggest opponent is often myself: I bind myself, indulge myself and build a wall for myself.
This inner fence may have been planted after failure, humiliation or fear of timidity and sadness. With this fence, our hearts are narrower and narrower, and we no longer look at the whole world.
Therefore, if we want to climb the peak of life, we have to overturn this fence and break through its bondage. Hemingway once said, "I am the God who rules everything."
It can be seen that it is particularly important to break through the inner wall, and it must be done. Hemingway, as a writer, once said ambitiously that he would surpass Shakespeare, "kill" Turgenev, and beat Mo Bosang and Stendhal to pieces.
If you make up your mind, you have to work hard. 1949, his friend Faulkner won the Nobel Prize in Literature.
Not convinced, Hemingway wrote a novel in a fit of pique, threatening to surpass others, and failed. The humiliation and pain caused by failure surrounded Hemingway in an instant, and he was deeply involved, unable to extricate himself, and a wall blocked his heart.
But in the end, a tough guy-like temperament awakened him, and he immediately adjusted his arrogant mentality, got up stubbornly, and didn't start yet. The closed wall built by arrogance, humiliation and failure in his heart was completely broken.
At the age of 53, Hemingway published the world-recognized masterpiece The Old Man and the Sea, in which he created a classic English-Chinese image-Santiago, and won the Nobel Prize in Literature of 1954 in one fell swoop. Let's imagine, if Hemingway is still paranoid and frustrated in that inner wall, or continues to make public, instead of rushing out resolutely, how can he achieve subsequent achievements and become a literary master who sensationalized the world literary world? Hemingway's fearless spirit like Santiago and his extraordinary perseverance in breaking out of control are enough to make people deeply impressed and admired.
Behind the brilliance of many successful people, it is often inseparable from rising up in arrogance, pessimism or humiliation and getting out of the inner barriers. A truly persevering person knows how to accept experiences that can break the shackles in his heart. Known as "the world's first female journalist", farage, after being slapped by her father, deeply realized the cruelty of life and was no longer bound by the fear of war. On the contrary, she bravely stood up and fought fiercely against tyranny and militarism as a war correspondent.
"Life is a severe adventure. The sooner you learn, the better. I will never forget that slap in the face. For me, it's like a kiss. " Farage later said.
It can be seen that she has the shadow of a "strong woman" and she knows how to break through the inner barriers. There are too many similar examples.
Victor grignard, a French scientist who was despised by girls at a banquet, and condoleezza rice, a former US secretary of state who got up after giving up her piano dream for a long time ... are often the fences in her heart. As long as we keep a clear head and take a bold step forward, we will surely get out of this step and see a brighter world.
Write a composition about fences. Grandpa always said to me, "Never walk out of the fence".
Whenever I ask my grandfather curiously why, he says, "There are wild animals outside the wall. If you don't listen to grandpa, you'll never see grandpa again. " This sentence always makes me afraid to go near the fence.
In the evening, there are always two more figures in the aperture of the sunset. Grandpa is fatter, taller and more like a child; I am getting thinner and smaller, giggling happily.
Grandpa took me to the highest point of the swing, which was his reading glasses, shining brightly in the sunset from time to time. Grandpa told me about his naughty childhood, as if he were a fearless hero. How many heroic feats, and see the old man slowly.
But before Grandpa finished, I crept close to the fence! I really want to touch it, even a little, but the fence was broken by Parthenocissus tricuspidata. They grew up with me, as old as me.
When I am unhappy, they will also be sad; When I am happy, they are in high spirits; When I am punished by my grandmother, they will help me share! Grandma! Yes! This is what grandma told me. Suddenly, my eyes were moist.
But I can't let it out. I promised my grandmother when she was not at home, and I will do it! Grandma has left us for many years. Grandpa said that grandma went to a distant place to find more and more beautiful Parthenocissus for me. At that time, I jumped up happily, hoping grandma would go at once, dragging her out of the fence and gradually disappearing into the fence. The day after grandma left, I realized that grandma was actually the most beautiful Parthenocissus in my life! Suddenly, a pair of heavy and trembling hands picked me up behind me.
It's grandpa. His smile made me understand that I couldn't go any further. Every night when I go to bed, grandpa always tells me a story about grandma. At this time, grandpa is always more intoxicated than me.
Grandpa told me that no matter where grandma is, she loves me the most because she is in my heart. But tonight, grandpa didn't tell me a story! The hedges in the morning are the busiest, because they are all busy with the life of the day. Grandpa said that they should not be disturbed at this time.
I listened to grandpa, but today! Last night, I dreamed of my grandmother. Grandma said that she would come back soon and bring me the most beautiful Parthenocissus tricuspidata, which will always accompany me, whether it is on the fence or not. When grandpa was not careful, I climbed onto the fence quietly, thinking: Just once, grandpa won't be angry. He won't be angry.
Maybe, he also wants me to see grandma earlier, just once. That's it, maybe? I stretched out my hands carefully, crouched down and stared at the fence intently. All I can think about is the fantasy outside the wall.
When I was about to touch it, my grandfather's words still lingered in my ears, but I couldn't resist the temptation any more. I closed my eyes and pulled open the fence that had been closed for a long time, but I was never hurt. I gradually removed my hands. It's a tombstone with grandma's name vaguely written on it. When I was a child, there was a piece of land in front of my house. After I cut it, it was a garden. It's not big, but I planted a little of everything.
The garden is surrounded by 1 meter-high bamboo, and the morning glory blooms on it ... The spring breeze brings warmth to the mountains and plains. Under the fence, several partners and I happily pull weeds, and often drag out some small insects like mud mounds along the grass roots, so we look for straw poles to pick them, or follow them to guess where they will go, and sometimes we are fascinated. Grandpa sprinkled new flowers and rapeseed on the side and occasionally turned to talk to us. Our laughter is broken in the wind and spinning in the sky. One spring, it started and ended ... bypassing the garden, we walked along the field path to the roadside. Across the road, there is a river flowing slowly to the west.
In the summer afternoon, when the tide receded, we rolled up our trousers and stepped barefoot into the river, digging out crabs and snails in the holes in the river wall. At that time, I was young, the river flooded to my waist, and my feet could not stand on the soft sand. I had to grab the tall man by the corner, pick up the little things they handed me and put them in the bucket. The water gurgled and echoed with our laughter.
Then, at dusk, the smoke from the kitchen chimney curled up. We landed carefully, returned to the garden, distributed the fruits of the afternoon under the fence, and then went home contentedly. Summer night is the most beautiful. The stars in the sky are so bright that even the clouds are flashing, and the crystal is white. There is an ensemble of crickets and frogs in the field, and the night is not lonely.
When I came back from being a guest at someone else's house, I fell asleep on my grandfather's back, accompanied by such moonlight and such wonderful rhyme. In late autumn, when the adults finished harvesting, we took the stalks, tied them into scarecrows and fenced them.
There are clusters of dead leaves under the fence, which may be brought by the autumn wind in a forest. Sweep the dead leaves together, pile up a small fort with dry clods, put the dead leaves in, light them, and throw some sweet potatoes into it. Dead leaves holding sweet potatoes, cough cough cough, smoke from the clods cracks, Ran Ran dissipated.
When the fragrance is fragrant, we are eating and chatting with relish under the fence with hot baked potatoes in our hands. A few birds are flying around in the field, resting on the shoulders of the scarecrow, showing off their crisp throats with our laughter.
In late autumn, our garden became a beautiful painting. Grandpa planted flowers of four seasons in the garden city, and even in winter, they still exude fragrance. It doesn't snow in winter in my hometown, and the sun is often warm, but we don't want to go down the river or up the mountain. We just wear clothes with three floors inside and three floors outside, playing with stones in the garden, jumping off the plane and playing hide-and-seek ... My childhood is a song of four seasons, which is played back again and again in the old record player of memory. Spring is gentle and lively, summer is full of laughter, autumn is affectionate and beautiful, and winter is cordial and peaceful.
4. Write a composition about the fence. Our teacher asked us to write a story about our childhood home with a fence outside the school garden. We have our own piece of land. After management, it is a garden. It's not big, but we grow a little of everything. On the day of harvest, the garden will become colorful and will not lose sight. The garden is surrounded by bamboo with a height of 1 m. Morning glory is in full bloom on it ... the spring breeze is green and the mountains are warm. Under the fence, my friends and I are pulling weeds happily. Small insects such as mud and earthworms are often dragged out along the grass roots. We find straws to pick, or follow them to guess where they will go. Sometimes we are so fascinated that we bump into the fence and everyone laughs. Grandpa is on the side. Occasionally, we turn around and laugh a few words. Our laughter is scattered in the wind and keeps spinning in the sky. One spring, it started and ended like this ... bypassing the garden and walking along the field path to the side of the road. Across the road, there was a small river flowing slowly to the west. In the summer afternoon, when the tide receded, we rolled up our trousers and stepped barefoot into the river, digging crabs and snails in holes in the river wall. On the soft beach, we couldn't keep our feet steady, so we had to grab the tall man's skirts, pick up the little things they handed us and put them in the bucket. The water gurgled and our laughter echoed. Then at dusk, every household was smoking. We went ashore carefully, went back to the garden, distributed the results of the afternoon under the fence, and then went home contentedly. Summer nights are the most beautiful and full of the sky. There is an ensemble of crickets and frogs in the field, and the night is not lonely. I fell asleep on my grandfather's back when I came back from being a guest at someone else's house, accompanied by such moonlight and such wonderful rhyme. In late autumn, when the adults finished harvesting, we tied the stalks into scarecrows and circled the fence. Build a small fort with dry clods, put dead leaves in it, light it, and throw some sweet potatoes into it. The dead leaves hold the sweet potato, and it burns with a cough. Smoke comes out from the cracks in the clods, and the Ran Ran dissipates. When the fragrance is fragrant, we will eat and talk with relish under the fence with our hands. A few birds are flying in the field and stop on the scarecrow's shoulder. Show off a crisp throat with our laughter. In late autumn, our garden became a beautiful painting. Grandpa planted flowers of four seasons in the garden city. Even in winter, the fragrance still escapes. It doesn't snow in winter in my hometown, and the sun is often warm, but we don't want to go down the river or up the mountain. We just wear three floors inside and three floors outside to play with stones in the garden, jump off planes and play hide-and-seek ... and play them over and over again in the old record player of memory, with gentle and lively spring, laughter and laughter in summer, affectionate and beautiful autumn and cordial and peaceful winter. Every time I look back, it seems like yesterday.
5. Write a composition on the topic of () in my heart. There are countless treasures in the world, but these treasures can never compare with the treasures in my heart.
In primary school, I got up very late one day. It was already dawn, and the silence of the morning disappeared in the street, replaced by noisy markets and busy streets.
Suddenly a big stone hung in my heart: I'm going to be late for school, and the teacher will scold me in front of my classmates. Thinking about this, I was busy running to school.
However, I am a little man, and I can't catch up with you how far I run here! People are like ants on hot bricks. I sank, thinking that the only hope now is to ask passers-by for help.
I don't know anyone around here. Most of them went to work. As long as I think there is a food market ahead, I may find help there.
When I came to the food market, there were old people buying food and some small vendors everywhere. Who would lend money to a child? Suddenly I feel that the sky is darker and lower than usual, which makes me breathless.
I have been secretly hating myself. Why don't I get up early? So it won't happen. I was sweating profusely when an old master came to ask me what was wrong.
I told him the whole story one by one. He took my hand and stopped a car by the side of the road. When I got on the bus, I saw this old master, like a person lost in the dark, finally waiting for the light. He repeatedly told me, "Get up early in the future and go to school well.
Make more contributions to the country in the future! "The car started, watching his figure disappear on the side of the road, my in the mind a acid, where can I find such a good person! I can't help crying. Although I was late at last, I was not very sad.
The old master let me know the warmth of the world. I went to the market after school and never saw the old master again.
I have always remembered this incident and cherished it in my heart. I was scolded for being late this time, but I thought it was worth it.
Life is full of twists and turns, ups and downs, which have not experienced countless setbacks and tempered growth, not only on their own, but also with the help of the whole society.
6. The narrative is required on the other side of the fence. I lifted my tired head from the exercise pile, shrugged my sore shoulders, and saw crystal drops of water on the rose leaves on the windowsill. Like the light of happiness in a jewelry store. It also illuminates my pupils, and the wind is still blowing gently. The faint fragrance of flowers is refreshing. The slender stamens are folded by crimson petals, thick, soft and delicate, elegant and pleasant. And how many storms has such a beautiful scenery experienced?
Occasionally, I will stand on the balcony of Grade Two and watch the freshmen talking and laughing. Full of childlike innocence, I found that I was as full of childlike innocence as them, holding an ice cream in one hand and walking and strolling with them. But that seems to be years of money. I met them by chance on the road and heard them call me "sister". I was as green as before. It's a little cold to think about it. I think, after all, I am much older and more mature than a year ago. There is a more definite goal.
Sometimes, I think of my initial dream in high school, the most important turning point in my life two years ago, and the realization of my college dream after graduation. When I think of memories, the picture of my own efforts should be very substantial, and I will keep repeating mechanical actions. Running between the classroom and the dormitory. Tired of the reference books on the desk. The brain has long been filled with "Tang Zong Song Zu". I think senior two only paves the way for my college dream, and my college dream is only to realize my ideal.
For my own ideal, I am willing to cross the vast desert, walk across the snowy plains, and the baking of thorns and hot sun can't stop me from reaching that place. Senior two, I want to learn to grow and struggle. I believe that one day I can also be a sonorous rose that blooms after the storm.
I will need too much courage in the pursuit of my dream, but I will never give up. Even if you feel more and more tired, some colors on your body will fade with the wind. I will try my best to fill my senior two commemorative album and make the roses bloom more brilliantly after the storm.
Beyond the fence
There is a rose.
Because I want to
So I'm going to send it ...
7. Write a composition entitled "In my heart-"about my teacher.
Among the teachers I know, some are strict, some are gentle, some are "naive", some are caring and some are funny. However, they are far from my teacher. Because the teacher in my mind has all the advantages of teachers I know and is a perfect person.
My teacher is a female teacher with long natural black hair. When she walks, her long hair is flowing, giving people a natural, exquisite and simple feeling. At the same time, she also has big bright eyes. She is 1.65 meters tall, neither light nor heavy. Walking on campus, people will say, "Look, that's the teacher of Class xx. Really beautiful. "
The teacher in my mind is a fluent and standard teacher who can't speak dialects and swear words, so the students won't say those ugly words.
The teacher in my mind is a gentle person. She will never scold us rudely or punish us in any way. She will talk to us in a gentle tone, so that we will have no pressure.
The teacher in my mind is sometimes a very strict person. If there is anything wrong with us, she will criticize us mercilessly and reason with us. Let's be careful not to make the same mistake again next time.
The teacher in my mind is a humorous person. She can play a few jokes on us during the intense study, so that we can relax and have a relaxed class. At the same time, our spirit will be improved and the efficiency of class will be high.
My teacher is a person who occasionally makes mistakes but will correct them in time. For example, she sometimes wrongs a classmate, and she will apologize to that classmate, just like between classmates, no matter how big or small, she will correct her mistakes.
The teacher in my mind is a warm-hearted and kind teacher. She can be enthusiastic about students in trouble and try her best to help them. When she meets some students who are deficient in some aspects, she will not be sarcastic, but help them make up lessons so that no one will fall behind.
The teacher in my mind is a person who can become good friends with students. She can play with us when we play; Work hard with us when studying; When we are happy, be happy with us; When we are sad, we try our best to persuade.
Most importantly, my teacher is a well-read and well-informed person. She can talk to us about the past and present, let us know more knowledge and hear more new things, so that our study life will be more colorful.
Of course, no one is perfect, and no one can be without shortcomings. So is my teacher. She also has shortcomings and sometimes neglects.
This is my teacher, a beautiful, well-spoken, gentle, strict, knowledgeable, humorous, warm and kind, close to students.
8. Write a composition on the topic of "Bridge" ~ ~ This is a long journey of life, with ups and downs and ups and downs. It's a long way, and I want to find a warm station. The sea of people is boundless, and I want to walk into my sincere heart.
I know, it's all on the other side. However, the wind is very strong, the waves are very big, and there are no ferries or ferrymen. I can't swim, I can only look forward to it silently! Thank God for giving me a bridge of mind built by the Internet, so that I can walk slowly from the bridge to the other side of my dream.
Wash away the dust all the way and let the tired body and mind have a rest. Leave success and failure, glory and loneliness in another world. In the keyboard dance, feel the joy and relief of the lotus pond under the moon; Feel the leisure at the foot of Nanshan Mountain in the singing of headphones; Taste the beautiful dream of Peach Blossom Garden on the screen. . . . . . Drinking a pot of mellow old wine, watching the green grass outside the window, the delicate flowers bloom quietly, the melodious pastoral songs drift away with the wind, and my heart is slowly intoxicated. . . . . .
Cross the barrier of the heart and tear down the wall of the heart. Leave fame and fortune, gain and loss, hypocrisy and scruples in another world. Face you and me across the screen, reach out your hands and shake hands gently. In your generosity, I tell you the story in my heart; In my sincerity, you tell me your inner secret. We understand each other and comfort each other; We appreciate each other and encourage each other. Light care, serious care, pure friendship, as elegant as white clouds; Silent blessing, gentle care and sincere affection are as clear as spring water. I am far away and become your closest and most loyal friend; You, who are strangers, are like my sisters and brothers connected by blood. In the cold night, I lit a blazing bonfire for you; In the storm, you held up a clear sky for me. . . . . .
Network-the bridge of the soul, you let me cross the distance between time and space, in a warm post, romantic; You have eliminated the gap between heart and heart, and let me graze my feelings in my sincere heart. Tomorrow, I will continue to share joys and sorrows in my life journey. As long as there is a bridge of the soul built by the Internet, I will no longer be afraid of the rough and muddy, bitter rain and cold wind. For the eternal ideal in my heart, I will go all the way smartly!
9. A 700-word composition entitled * * * in My Eyes and Zhu Ziqing in My Eyes.
In my eyes, Zhu Ziqing is a talented person with multiple personalities and even some fickleness. Like other gifted scholars, he is also knowledgeable and rich in connotation. 18 years old, admitted to the philosophy department of Peking University. How many people envy such talents in this era! But the difference is that his changeable style makes me love his pen.
The earliest contact with Mr. Zhu Ziqing was the prose "Spring" and "Back" studied in junior high school.
He is full of energy in spring, and his whole body is full of energy. I can't believe that this article was written by a man in his thirties. Not as deep as you should be at your age, but lighter, which will not only make people feel disgusted, but also make you feel more fond of, curious about and admire this unusual person. Like Mr. Zhu Ziqing at that time, he not only had an optimistic attitude, a happy mood, but also the beauty brought by everything around him. This article gives me a preliminary understanding of this lovely person-a language master who can bring abstract spring back from nature to reality. He makes the spring scenery permanent and visible at any time!
And he is so warm in the back. It's like going from a child to an emotional man. In some hard times at that time, it was warm to offer people a cup of hot tea. His emotional expression in the article is sincere, simple, unpretentious and unpretentious. Natural memories, but let yourself and the reader's heart feel a little dull pain together. He is like a lonely night sky, and suddenly he roared into the sky! At that moment, I woke up a lot of ignorant teenagers, who didn't know that "the tree wants to be quiet, but the wind doesn't stop, and the child wants to raise it, but he doesn't want to stay close"! It is precisely because of this call that I have deepened my curiosity about this changeable language master. What kind of person is he? Why are two articles with different styles so true? Which one is the real him? At this time, I was in a hurry again.
As an essay recalling time, "Hurry" shows incisively and vividly, and I also read the third Mr. Zhu Ziqing from it! Here, he is a little depressed and frustrated, but although he is sentimental but not depressed, he is hesitant but not depressed, so he is looking for something in helplessness and contradiction. He is full of nostalgia for the fleeting time and disappointment with reality. That's why he described the heartless passing time in such detail, and finally there will be such a question: "You are smart, tell me, why are our days gone forever?" It seems a bit superficial but intriguing.
Finally, let my evaluation of him be fixed in Moonlight on the Lotus Pond. Through the description of the lotus pond under the moonlight and the moonlight of the lotus pond, he reveals his dissatisfaction with reality and his thoughts that fantasy is beyond reality. From the faint joy at first, to the persistent sadness afterwards, and then to the depression of "excitement is theirs and I have nothing", all these reflect his yearning for the future and his vision for a better future. At this time, Mr. Zhu Ziqing put on his melancholy coat again and walked alone in the moonlight, becoming a "free man": "I can think of everything, but I can't think of anything".
. . .
10. Write a composition on the topic of "the stone in my heart"
When Lincoln was a child, his father had a farm with many stones in it. After they bought the fast farm, they decided to move all the stones. People around laughed at their fantastic ideas, but in the end, Lincoln and his son actually moved all the stones. In fact, those stones are not what he imagined. They are just isolated stones. As long as you dig down about a foot, you can shake them.
Like a fool moving mountains. No matter how harsh the ridicule in others' hearts is, only by removing the stone in your heart with firm belief will you see the dawn of success.
People always feel that they can't lift the stones in their hearts. So most people spend their lives in mediocrity and have a new year to complete this impossible person and become heroes.
In 495 BC, Gou Jian attacked Wu. There was a fierce battle with Wu Bing in Fujiao Mountain, and they were defeated. This should have been the script of national subjugation, but because of his belief, Gou Jian worked hard every day and never forgot to destroy the shame of martial arts. He appointed Fan Li, Wen Zhong and others to reform the internal affairs and recuperate. In the end, the prince of Wu became the overlord.
Read thousands of books and take Wan Li Road. Compendium of Materia Medica was praised by Darwin as "the encyclopedia of ancient China". Li Shizhen spent more than ten years writing this book, which was impossible for others, but Li Shizhen did it. He spent half his life trying to remove the stone left in the hearts of the world. What makes him have such great perseverance? It is faith, and faith has infinite power for a person.
In life, we can see some "action dwarfs" everywhere. Although they have many ideas, they can't always put them into action. They either arbitrarily think that something can't have a result, or say that the time for action has not yet arrived. In short, they will find thousands of excuses for their procrastination. It is often psychological obstacles and hard stones in our minds that hinder our actions, not how difficult things are. If you think something is worth doing, take action at once, don't delay, and finally you will find that you can do it. Because there is no action, everything is empty talk, and procrastination is the fundamental reason to stop you.
Stone can be crushed, but it cannot lose its hardness; Cinnabar can be ground into pieces, but it cannot be deprived of its red color.