I wish you a long life and a long life.

If the trees are beautiful in the forest, the wind will destroy them; if they are piled up on the shore, the current will be turbulent; if you walk above the world, others will reject them.

The sea accepts hundreds of rivers, and it is great if it has tolerance; if it stands thousands of feet high on a wall, it is strong if it has no desires.

It is a great pleasure to have friends come from far away.

The people of Qin had no time to mourn themselves, so that future generations would mourn for them, and future generations would mourn without taking note of them, which would also make future generations mourn for future generations.

At night, I lie down listening to the wind and rain, and the iron horse glacier falls into my dream.

When the young man left home and his boss came back, his local pronunciation remained unchanged and his hair on his temples faded.

There are Bole in the world, and then there are thousand-mile horses. Thousand-mile horses always exist, but Bole does not always exist.

The reeds on the wall are top-heavy and light-footed; the bamboo shoots in the mountains have sharp mouths, thick skin and hollow bellies.

Throughout the ages, heroes have never found Sun Zhongmou; on the dance pavilion and singing stage, the wind and rain always blow away the romance.

All the birds are flying high, and the lonely cloud is alone. I never tire of looking at each other, only Jingting Mountain.

You can’t be seen on the mountain winding road, leaving a place for horses to walk in the sky above the snow.

The smoke is in the cold water, the moon is in the sand, and I stay in Qinhuai at night near the restaurant. The merchant girl does not know the hatred of the country's subjugation, but she still sings the flowers in the backyard across the river.

Those who abandon me will not be able to keep yesterday’s day; those who mess up my mind will have many worries today.

The ancients said goodbye to the Yellow Crane Tower in the West, and fireworks descended on Yangzhou in March. The shadow of the lone sail in the distance is gone in the blue sky, and only the Yangtze River can be seen flowing in the sky.

The crowd looked for him thousands of times, but suddenly looking back, he was in a dimly lit place.

Withered vines and old trees, dim crows, small bridges and flowing water, people’s houses, the west wind and the thin horse on the ancient road, the sunset, the heartbroken people are at the end of the world.