piercing the secular dust, children can really see the starry sky, and face the secular prejudice and be able to "cover their eyes without fear of clouds". Its realm is like the highest of the three realms of life in The Tales of the World: just like climbing the peak of flying, what you seek and see is in the blink of an eye.
In the adult world, the child is like a tree, the wind blows gracefully, the clouds pass lovingly, the running water is diligent and the flowers are blurred, but it still stands there, motionless in all directions, and it can be seen at a glance that the king has no so-called "new clothes".
children's eyes are true.
But Kaista said: "From the tree of life to the cannery of civilized society, it has become a canned product."
when the tide of society is pouring down, can the truth of children still be intact? Mao Ying mentioned a post in a recent program that a child asked his mother to let him learn piano in the first grade of primary school. Because the child's deskmate has learned the mental arithmetic of hundreds of digits when she learns 1+1, and she has already communicated in English when she learns abc phonetic symbols, and at this time, the deskmate has passed the piano band 8.
When we look into the children's clear eyes, we realize that they still hide in the adult's body after they had a flower-like warmth and an angel-like smile, and become as bloated, flashy, eager for quick success, vulgar and boring as adults ...
On the surface, the so-called maturity of children is a kind of appreciation, but from the perspective of life aesthetics, it is actually a subtraction.
When people become bloated, life becomes suspicious. Just like a cooked scallop, you can't recognize the sound of the waves and smell the sea.
there is a saying in the book of songs: I am sad because I am slow in walking, thirsty and hungry, so I don't know that I am sad. I think this is the feeling of many individuals in society.
We shouldn't bring the falsehood and indifference of the adult world to them.
Our expectations for children indicate our expectations for this country. Children in a country should grow up to be like Zhang Chao's "Nocturnal Shadow" in Qing Dynasty, who said, "Because of wine, because of flowers, because of celebrities, because of the moon, and because of mountains, because they want to be proud of poetry." When they grow up, they should be moved by the sunset like Levitan, Russia, and they should find a place in Tchaikovsky's "Andante like a song" like him.
Liang Shuming wrote a book, Will the World Be Fine? I think so.
Model essay on narrative writing with perfect score in the college entrance examination:
Watching the distant place Our paradise moon is the hometown of the ancients and the yearning of bosom friends. That kind of sacred halo, which is far away and untouchable, turns into the soul written by the poet and the chanting in his mouth. Dongpo said: I hope people will live for a long time, and thousands of miles will be beautiful.
Armstrong took people's moons away. The footprints printed on the sand dune dust made drinking Alone with the Moon, Li Taibai, a thing of the past. Perhaps human beings have got rid of the ignorance of geometry, and the distance is not as far as it used to be. However, the glowing jade plate hanging in the sky has faded, which is the distance of the ancients, giving birth to the once curved moon.
I hate the dream of being close at hand, so I don't want it. When sweating like rain in the heat, the ivory tower in my dream is my only fulcrum. I imagine its grandeur is like heaven. Although everyone will have a realistic side, I firmly believe that distance gives birth to beauty. It is beyond reach to construct the ideal sacredness. Open my fingers, the dazzling light reflects the appearance of heaven, and I watch alone. The ideal is as bright as a jewel. Looking from afar, it is my paradise. I like the distorted beauty, just like the moon of the ancients.
I accidentally remembered Haizi, the legendary poet who was always cynical. When his "facing the sea, spring blossoms" became a general illusion of Greek mythology, Haizi was speechless. In his eyes, the whole world, from a distance, is the beautiful flowers in full bloom in Eden < P > Garden, and only when you look closely can you know the disappointment of the world to him. The sea can't keep him, nor can spring keep him, and the wings of poetry are broken, leaving only the iron wheel of Shanhaiguan rumbling past, and Haizi's soul leads to heaven with the railroad tracks that extend far away. Someone asked, what hurt him and the poets of this era, people may not understand, because they are in this world and have never seen its beauty from afar. The distance between literati and secularism is always too great, and the contrast is too great. In the raging flames of Haizi's burning poems, a world facing the sea and blooming in spring is in full bloom. This distance is a tragedy, the eyes of the goddess of literature. The world of distant view and close view made Haizi complete the essential transformation between heaven and hell. I think Haizi, who still insists on looking at the secular from a distance, will always be happy.
this is the beauty of distance. Being in a chaotic world forever makes human beings numb, and even forget the suffocating aesthetic feeling when they are far away. When trying to build a so-called "beautiful life", have humans forgotten the distant watch, the paradise they once had as children, the tears of the moon in ancient poetry, and the winged angel in Greek mythology? The development of science has relaxed the last keen nerve of mankind, and all poetry has disappeared, leaving only the prosperity of the secular world.
Look at the moon on the horizon, look at the romantic "Moon in Qin Dynasty and Pass in Han Dynasty", watch the truth of humanistic spirit in the era of "wild civilization", and look at the suffocating beauty brought to us by distance. Poetry, prose and Chu Ci will moisten the numbness of this era, and the distant beauty will rekindle the myth of hope and the spiritual ship will set sail again.
Watching the distance, watching the horizon only belongs to our eternity ...
On model essay [article 2]
Holding a drop of water
I boarded the beacon tower and overlooked the battlefield eroded by yellow sand. The roar of the drums and the roar of the soldiers came from the horizon and echoed between the empty and distant heaven and earth. My heart, as still as a lake, is gradually spreading ripples. A drop of water, held tightly in my hand. For me, this drop of water is my whole world.
a drop of water, in the long yellow sand, is less clear and more turbid; less sweet and more bitter. It's not a drop of water, but a tear.
It seems like yesterday. A thin horse, a package and a long knife are all my bags. I have drunk the water from the Yellow River, watched the sunset in Montenegro, and traveled across mountains and rivers just to join the army for my father. Mulan, I brought this name here from thousands of miles away. The battlefield is undoubtedly the execution ground, and one by one, fresh life, either forced, voluntary or helpless, comes here. They only have two results-they can go back alive, enjoy their knees, talk about filial piety, die here, keep company with loess, and turn into a grain of sand in the wind and sand all over the sky. In this place filled with blood, sadness and despair, how many sleepless nights have I spent? Missing comes from all directions, haunting me and suffocating me. I asked myself gently, is it worth it? Although my long hair was pulled up and put on men's clothes, I am still a woman who needs to be loved by my parents. I don't want a military life. Time runs away in struggle, pain and yearning. When white skin becomes like dry land, when tender hands grow thick calluses, I realize that I have no way to escape. Ten years of youth suddenly disappeared, and I had nothing left, only a tear in my hand, which was my whole life.
The water slipped silently, soaked the raging yellow sand; tears fell quietly and stained the pale silk in the boudoir. I slowly spread out my hand, and the tears lay quietly in my palm. The sun came from all directions and refracted into countless worlds in my palm. I seem to see my parents sitting outside looking forward to my return, and sister, who is secretly crying at my red suit, all these things are accumulated in this drop of tears.
I suddenly staggered, and with a bang, tears fell to the ground. The sound was so light, but I heard the sound of heartbreak. In a flash, my whole world was fragmented, and the fragments were blown into the air by the wind and sand, disappeared or infiltrated into the loess, and disappeared.
a tear reflects a good face for ten years; how many heroic lives are buried with a handful of loess?
Holding out my trembling hand, I stared at the desert sun through my fingers. The harsh sunshine blinded me, and it was another drop of water. I don't have the strength to leave it, and the most precious drop has been tripped by a temporary joke of fate-stretching my foot. Ten years have passed, and my world has disappeared forever like that drop of water.
It is enough to lose a drop of water and a stumble.
Argumentative essay:
Canned life
Wilde said, "People are all living in the gutter, but some people are still looking up at the stars."
piercing the secular dust, children can really see the starry sky, and face the secular prejudice and be able to "cover their eyes without fear of clouds". Its realm is like the' ultimate realm' in the three realms of life in "The Tales of the World": just like climbing the peak of Feilai, what you seek and see is in the blink of an eye.
In the adult world, the child is like a tree, the wind blows gracefully, the clouds pass lovingly, the running water is diligent and the flowers are blurred, but it still stands there, motionless in all directions, and it can be seen at a glance that the king has no so-called "new clothes".
children's eyes are true.
But Kaista said: "From the tree of life to the cannery of civilized society, it has become a canned product."
when the tide of society is pouring down, can the truth of children still be intact? Mao Ying mentioned a post in a recent program that a child asked his mother to let him learn piano in the first grade of primary school. Because the child's deskmate has learned the mental arithmetic of hundreds of digits when she learns 1+1, and she has already learned English when she learns abc phonetic symbols, and at this time, the deskmate has passed the piano band 8.
When we look into the children's clear eyes, we realize that they still hide in the adult's body after they had a flower-like warmth and an angel-like smile, and become as bloated, flashy, eager for quick success, vulgar and boring as adults ...
On the surface, the so-called maturity of children is a kind of appreciation, but from the perspective of life aesthetics, it is actually a subtraction.
When people become bloated, life becomes suspicious. Just like a cooked scallop, you can't recognize the sound of the waves and smell the sea.
there is a saying in the book of songs: I am sad because I am slow in walking, thirsty and hungry, so I don't know that I am sad. I think this is the feeling of many individuals in society.
We shouldn't bring the falsehood and indifference of the adult world to them.
Our expectations for children indicate our expectations for this country. Children in a country should grow up like Zhang Chao, a generation of Qing Dynasty, said in A Dream Shadow that "they miss nobles because of wine, beauties because of flowers, celebrities because of snow, chivalrous men because of the moon, and poems because of mountains". When they grow up, they should be moved by the sunset like Levitan, Russia, and find a place in Tchaikovsky's Andante like a song, not like him.
Liang Shuming wrote a book, Will the World Be Fine? I think so.
Model essay on narrative writing with perfect score in the college entrance examination:
Watching the distant place Our paradise moon is the hometown of the ancients and the yearning of bosom friends. That kind of sacred halo, which is far away and untouchable, turns into the soul written by the poet and the chanting in his mouth. Dongpo said: I hope people will live for a long time, and thousands of miles will be beautiful.
Armstrong took people's moons away. The footprints printed on the sand dune dust made drinking Alone with the Moon, Li Taibai, a thing of the past. Perhaps human beings have got rid of the ignorance of geometry, and the distance is not as far as it used to be. However, the glowing jade plate hanging in the sky has faded, which is the distance of the ancients, giving birth to the once curved moon.
I hate the dream of being close at hand, so I don't want it. When sweating like rain in the heat, the ivory tower in my dream is my only fulcrum. I imagine its grandeur is like heaven. Although everyone will have a realistic side, I firmly believe that distance gives birth to beauty. It is beyond reach to construct the ideal sacredness. Open my fingers, the dazzling light reflects the appearance of heaven, and I watch alone. The ideal is as bright as a jewel. Looking from afar, it is my paradise. I like the distorted beauty, just like the moon of the ancients.
I accidentally remembered Haizi, the legendary poet who was always cynical. When his "facing the sea, spring blossoms" became a general illusion of Greek mythology, Haizi was speechless.
In his eyes, the whole world, from a distance, is a beautiful flower in full bloom in Eden
Garden, and only when you look closely can you know the disappointment of this world. The sea can't keep him, and spring can't keep him. The wings of poetry are broken, leaving only the iron wheel of Shanhaiguan rumbling by, and Haizi's soul leads to heaven with the railroad tracks stretching far away. Someone asked, what hurt him and the poets of this era, people may not understand, because they are in this world and have never seen its beauty from afar. The distance between literati and secularism is always too great, and the contrast is too great. In the raging flames of Haizi's burning poems, a world facing the sea and blooming in spring is in full bloom. This distance is a tragedy, the eyes of the goddess of literature. The world of distant view and close view made Haizi complete the essential transformation between heaven and hell. I think Haizi, who still insists on looking at the secular from a distance, will always be happy.
this is the beauty of distance. Being in a chaotic world forever makes human beings numb, and even forget the suffocating aesthetic feeling when they are far away. When trying to build a so-called "beautiful life", have humans forgotten the distant watch, the paradise they once had as children, the tears of the moon in ancient poetry, and the winged angel in Greek mythology? The development of science has relaxed the last keen nerve of mankind, and all poetry has disappeared, leaving only the prosperity of the secular world.
Look at the moon on the horizon, look at the romantic "Moon in Qin Dynasty and Pass in Han Dynasty", watch the truth of humanistic spirit in the era of "wild civilization", and look at the suffocating beauty brought to us by distance. Poetry, prose and Chu Ci will moisten the numbness of this era, and the distant beauty will rekindle the myth of hope and the spiritual ship will set sail again.
Watching the distance, watching the horizon only belongs to our eternity ...
215 college entrance examination full score composition: Difficulty and fear are not afraid of each other
Laozi, the originator of the Taoist school, said: "Whether there is mutual growth, difficulty is complementary, length is comparable, high and low are complementary, sound and sound are in harmony, and the front and back go hand in hand." Thousands of years ago, Lao Tzu revealed the contradictory unity of opposites. Fear and fear are interdependent. There is no absolute fear or like, and everything depends on your attitude. Sometimes, fear and fearlessness are just like the two ends of a scale. If you rise, it will fall, and if you fall, it will rise.
"Middle school students have three fears, Olympics, English and Zhou Shuren" has become a buzzword, which must have its roots.
what is fear? British psychologist Richard? Wiseman said: "Fear is the fear and withdrawal when a person is unable to solve something."
here, I'll take it for the time being.