Su Xuelin (February 24, 1897 - April 21, 1999, aged 102) Su Xuelin, female, formerly known as Su Xiaomei. Her nicknames are Rui Nu and Xiao Mei, her scientific name is Xiao Mei and her courtesy name is Xuelin. Her pen names are Rui Nu, Rui Lu, Xiao Mei, Lu Yi, Ling Fen and Lao Mei. Later, because she was promoted to Beijing Higher Women's Normal University, she omitted the character "小" and changed it to Sumei. After returning to China from France, he took the name Su Xuelin. His pen names include Luyi, Lingfen, Laomei, Tianying, etc. Born in Cheng Yamen, Ruian County, Zhejiang Province in 1897, he laughs at himself as half-Zhejiang native. He was originally from Lingxia Village, Taiping County, Anhui Province (now Huangshan District, Huangshan City). His life spanned two centuries. Xingtan taught for 50 years, had a creative career of 70 years, and published 40 books. She has been engaged in education all her life and has taught at Hujiang University, Anhui University, and Wuhan University. Later, he taught at National Taiwan Normal University and National Cheng Kung University. She kept writing and was hailed as an evergreen tree in the literary world. Her works cover novels, essays, dramas, and literary criticism, and she has made outstanding achievements in the study of ancient Chinese literature and modern and contemporary literature.
Su Xuelin's famous sayings and aphorisms:
Spring is not like the depression of summer, the solemnity of autumn, or the deathly silence of winter. It is always lively, crazy, growing and developing. Spring is Young.
After the sea of ??clouds was paved, it stretched as far as the eye could see. It was blown by the wind, rolled into huge waves, and scorched by the sun, and shone with blue and purple brilliance. The majesty of the sea, the changes of mirages, and the majesty of whales and turtles. Who says this is not the real sea?
The weather is neither cloudy nor sunny, the seasons are cold and warm, sometimes there is gentle wind, sometimes there is drizzle, spring is crying and laughing at times, and spring is good at acting coquettishly.
He sees eternity in the finite; his spirit is like an invisible grain of dust, following the wheel of creation and moving forward; his spiritual sea often roars with great waves, echoing even greater ones. pulse, a greater spiritual tide.
He writes about the bright moon, the stars, the clear clouds, the high pitch of the mountains, and the brilliance of the flowing water with a wonderful pen that blooms like flowers; he writes about the little flowers and plants that contain shining pearls in the morning mist; he writes about love, and Bright, realistic and beautiful. Even the woman crying in the snow, the poor man picking up coal scraps by the trash can, the old rickshaw driver pulling the cart through the alley late at night, the beggar following the wire wheel begging for money, the old woman in the carriage in Shanghai and Hangzhou, the stupid and dirty soldiers, All have infinite sympathy.
There are several types of cloud seas. One is white mist, spreading into one piece, which is too thin; the other is silver clouds that are like a quilt covering the space. It is not a sea. No. It's just that there are no ups and downs, no deep and shallow folds, and it's too monotonous.
Spring is at work, busy at work. It has to prepare for the prosperity of summer, the fertility of autumn, and the rest of winter. What if it doesn’t work? But Chun is working and playing at the same time. Chun is happy.
Spring is like the sea, the metaphor of the ancients is so wonderful and appropriate. Only the sea can describe the saturation of spring, the vastness of spring, the majestic overflowing of spring, and the surging vitality and business of spring.
In the blue sky, the peach-colored clouds stretched slowly, as if they had not had enough spring sleep and were still in a sleepy state. But the flowing water cannot look down upon this young lady's voice. It is glowing with neon colors, singing a loud new song, and rushes to the giant river and the sea without looking back. Spring is brilliant, and spring is always on the way to fulfillment and completion. Go.
The thick gray cloud pressing on your eyebrows will naturally make you feel suffocated, but in an instant it will turn into mist like gauze or light rain.
New leaf buds appeared among the branches, dotted sparsely and trivially. There were yellow patches, black patches, and light green patches on the ground. They looked very unpleasant, but after a few days, they became a piece of grass. Natural green clouds, an embroidered felt studded with stars and wild flowers.