Once upon a time, I heard the song "Invisible Wings", a beautiful melody, beautiful lyrics. Yes, each of us has a pair of invisible wings, it is with it that we can be full of hope and fly to the faraway places. And for me, those wings are the seemingly heavy books, it is with it that I can be full of dreams and fly to the faraway places.
The Qing Dynasty rising tide in the "shadow of a dream" has written: "Volume in the landscape." Not bad, the book has its own golden house, the book has its own Yan Ruyu, the words of the predecessor is still in the ear. Reading is a process of realization. That a book is like a pair of invisible wings, take me to leap over the river of history, to see the clouds roll and blossom. So I saw Su Dongpo dancing under the bright moon, singing "I wish you a long time, a thousand miles *** Chan Juan"; I saw Thoreau sitting alone in Walden Lake fishing a day of the stars, the face is endless leisurely; I saw a thousand years of emperors and generals, and saw a thousand years of rise and fall success and failure. Yes, the book like wings, it took my mind out of the narrow window, so that I can not leave the house to appreciate the world, broaden their horizons, rich ideas.
The will of heaven is never high and difficult to determine, life can not always be smooth sailing, when I encountered frustration and pain, it is the book, that pair of invisible wings, take me out of the heavy obstacles, flying in the blue sky. For example, when I lost because of the test results helpless, I will go to read the "Dongpo Lefu", so that "a straw raincoat rain Renping life" of the open-minded optimism to wash away my downturn; and for example, when I argue with friends, Bo Ya Ziqi that the high mountains and flowing water of the tune will be played in my heart, to remind me of the preciousness of friendship; and when I am lost and helpless and lost goals, Stephen Hawking that wrote the book, the book, the invisible wings, to take me out of the heavy obstacles, flying in the blue sky. And when I am lost and helpless and lose my goal, the firm figure of Stephen Hawking who wrote "A Brief History of Time" will appear in front of me, so that I can find my goal again. Yes, books are like wings, which let me get rid of the entanglement of the quagmire, find the goal of life, and rush straight to the beautiful sky.
Because I was obsessed with books, I was also obsessed with writing and scribbling. So when a writer has become a small me a big dream. As the old saying goes, "Read a thousand books and you'll be able to write like a god." If you don't have a rich cultural background, how can you write decent works? So, the book has become more of a pair of indispensable invisible wings, which carries my dream, through the dark clouds of the obstacles, take me to the other side of the dream.
The familiar melody seems to come back to my ears: I have a pair of invisible wings, take me to fly, give me hope. I have a pair of invisible wings, take me to fly, fly to the faraway place. Yes, the book is my pair of invisible wings, it enriches my eyes, guides my life direction, and takes me to the other side of the shore of success.
Books, my invisible wings!
2. Hubei full marks essay: standing in the door of the old house
A low wooden house, only a layer of gray tiles on the roof, time eroded the door of the old house. And I wandered in the doorway, thinking about the usual small things.
In the past, it was my grandfather who guarded the old house. He liked to sit in the doorway and leisurely smoke his own rolled dry cigarette. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on some of the most popular products and services in the world, and you'll be able to do that in a very short time. That scene was repeated for several years. I remember the reddish tint of the sun in front of the old house, falling and rising, rising and falling. Without realizing it, Grandpa was gone. The door of the old house squeaked and swayed in the wind, and shook out just a burst and a burst of bleak heartache, finally, there is no one sitting in front of the old house.
Then moved to a new home, but the grandmother insisted on staying in that old house. She also did not explain, just like grandpa sat in silence, we can not disobey her. But a little bit of understanding I think, this old house door, carrying too much. Home from school, I like to crouch in the door of the old house on a small bench to write homework, a quiet there, the second can also be a companion with grandma. Grandma likes to nag, nagging those I am curious about the past. Occasionally, some old ladies would gather at the door of the old house and talk about who would be the first to go to the ground, as if they were just talking about family matters. But once in a while I would hear Grandma complaining all by herself that the old man had gone too soon. I didn't know whether it was Grandma leaning on the door or the door leaning on Grandma. Alone, I held in my tears, listening to her whimper, but could not cry.
As time goes by, the old house has become a crumbling and dangerous house. People in the village advised Dad to demolish the house, I did not Ken, of course, Dad also insisted on not promised. I remember him walking with me to the padlocked doorway of the old house and hearing him mutter, "When I'm old, I'll still live in this house." I think I understood: grandparents are here to go, Dad expected to see them in this doorway; and people near middle age, also thought of their own home. At that time, I naively responded, "Dad, when I'm old, I'll live in this house, too." Dad didn't squeak, touched the small wooden door, turned and left. I think he didn't want to cry at the door of the old house for fear that his grandparents would be sad if they saw him.
And now, I stand in the doorway of the old house, unwilling to push it open for fear of touching those dusty past. But some things, like the door of the old house, experienced too much, but still silent. I do not dare to disturb the silent and vicissitudes of this part of the years, but I think, between today and tomorrow, perhaps only separated by a door, we are standing in the doorway of the years wandering, remembering those past things and past people.
I stood in the doorway of the old house, thinking about those ordinary small things. The door of the old house is locked by the years.
Standing at the door of the station
The station, a stage where parting and reunion are constantly staged. The master of this drama of parting and reunion is always changing, the same is that this is the same platform.
The master of the drama in the change, one day, I became the protagonist of the play. A cold spring day, a season full of joy and vitality, and at the same time, in my eyes, a season of disillusionment. One day, Mom and Dad got up early in the morning and were busy packing. Still in the transition zone between dreamland and reality, I suddenly heard a faint sob. I opened my hazel eyes and found my dear mother's face in the dim light, hanging with some tears, written with a face of sadness. I crawled into my mother's arms and asked her what was wrong; she did not speak. On the contrary, it has always been silent and few words father spoke up: we have to go to the provinces to work today, may only return once a year ...... I cried at that time, because I did not want my parents to leave. But these are not helpful. Grandma pulled me with a tear-stained face, stood at the door of the station, and said goodbye to mom and dad. Then we watched them step into the car. The car started slowly, gradually became a point, gradually disappeared in the foggy morning, leaving only the sobbing grandmother and I stood at the door of the station ...... From then on, the station has been stuck in my memory. From time to time, I will stand in the door of the station, may the far away car can bring me to my mother father's blessing, may come back to the car for me to bring my father and mother's voice. I will stand at the door of the station, continue my parting and looking forward to the reunion of the station play.
The leaves are green and yellow, yellow and fall, and grow again after falling. The world has been changing, but the station play has not changed, it is still staged. It's still just the main character that has changed.
More than ten years ago I sent off I became a person who is now far away, more than ten years ago the parents who are far away became a person who is now sent off. Every time you return to school in the morning, my mother will always be as far away as early get up, for me to pack my luggage, for me to prepare breakfast, everything is finished, then send me to the station, to continue the play without ending. Thousands of instructions: study well, pay attention to the body, eat more, drink less cold water ...... always have to say endless "nagging", a kind of nagging that makes people's hearts warm. The car is gone, through the window, although the light outside is dark, but I clearly saw the mother's eyes of reluctance, as well as tearful eyes. Leaving, is unlimited reluctance and nostalgia; to return, the eyes are a kind of ecstatic excitement. But the eyes are always wet no matter whether they are in the departure or return.
Standing at the door of the station, I wish the people who are far away a safe journey; standing at the door of the station, waiting for the people who miss the safe return. I have a station in my heart, a station that is constantly staging partings and reunions. I will always stand at the door of the station, to send off, to bless, to wait, to reunion.
3. Jiangsu full marks essay: taste of fashion
"I send you away, thousands of miles away, you silent black and white ......" a "thousands of miles away" sung all over the north and south of the Yangtze River, Jay Chou, the show business of the public favorite has once again pushed the The highest tide of fashion. With this familiar melody ringing in your ears, a vibrant young face will always flash before your eyes. But you know what? But did you know that there is another character who is very different from this image but is also a household name, has also interpreted this popular music - the famous CCTV announcer: Luo Jing.
"Friends of the audience Hello, here is the CCTV ......" Every night at seven o'clock sharp, that gracious face is always on time on the screen, that familiar voice is always echoed in the ears of hundreds of millions of viewers. His dignified, generous and unsmiling broadcasting style has firmly captured the hearts of countless people. We saw a new Luo Jing, a very different Luo Jing from the screen in the past, an equally energetic and fashionable Luo Jing.
But his work did not allow him to appear in front of us in such an image. For a while, a tidal wave of criticism of all kinds came in. Yes, he is the representative of the country's image, the conveyor of the voice of China. This heavy responsibility does not allow him to make even the slightest change. So, day after day, year after year, he changed back to the former solemn Luo Jing. Until August 31, 2008, after that day, he completely disappeared from the TV. An unfortunate piece of news came: because of lymphoma, Luo Jing had to leave the broadcasting room of the "news broadcast" and was hospitalized.
Ten months later, the excellent broadcaster Luo Jing, who has dedicated his life to broadcasting, passed away, leaving his beloved broadcasting career forever, and hundreds of millions of viewers who loved him.
Luo Jing is like a Bach's "twelve equal temperament", rigorous and almost stereotypical. Is it really lack of Beethoven's wild, Chopin's writing, the freedom of jazz, the exuberance of Latin music? The song "A Thousand Miles Away" gives us the best answer.
Because of his work and public image, he made great sacrifices. Today, he left us forever. Looking at the vast sea of condolences and blessings, I suddenly realized: Luo Jing's calm, rigorous, courageous sacrifice and stoicism, in fact, is not inferior to Zhou Dong's stream. I hope that this spirit can always become a new fashion that inspires us to be positive.
4. Zhejiang full marks essay: green leaf affection
When Grandpa began to taste brewed four times the aged Longjing, to mourn the guests have gradually dispersed. The first time I saw the car, I saw the car, I saw the car, I saw the car, I saw the car, I saw the car, I saw the car. I slightly bitter smile, the original is not forever hometown, we will always be a passer-by.
After dealing with the funeral of my grandmother, my grandfather no longer insisted on this side of the land that has left countless memories, and obediently followed us to the city. However, walking on the cobblestone paved path, I saw my grandfather's look back countless times, the deep longing and unspeakable helplessness, eventually turned into a drop of muddy tears, slowly pouring into the bottom of the heart.
Farewell, I heard these two words.
In the city, Grandpa still gets up early every day. In the city, which is used to night life and does not care about the morning sunlight, it seems to be a bit different. However, he does not care about those strange eyes, and still wears white-washed blue old overalls every day, traveling in all corners of the community. He reclaimed a flower field on the abandoned land in front of the building, sowed all kinds of strange seeds, and tended to it every day as if he was accomplishing a sacred mission.
Only I know the loneliness of my grandfather. I'm not sure if you're going to be able to get a good deal on this. I miss the old house in my hometown. The warbler's cries every morning, the wooden staircase's mournful moan, the sunlight that falls through the green bamboo forest, and the unforgettable smell of the earth with a faint fragrance.
In this piece of reinforced concrete, I have not been able to find that simple and pure smile, I saw my grandfather every time I want to wave up the hand in the cold shoulder pass by helplessly put down, I always have a kind of impulse to cry.
Back then, my grandfather was a vigorous green leaf, he could temporarily leave his roots, to go far away, looking for the scenery belonging to him, but now, this green leaf has quietly withered, he needs to go back to his hometown and forever together.
That is the grandfather's eightieth birthday, relatives and friends to take this are gathered together, my eyes flow, but I can not find the figure of the grandfather. The first thing I did was to get up quietly and go out of the banquet hall, and I saw my grandfather hovering in front of the window in the corner. I went over to him and held his hand. Grandpa moved his lips and said, "I want to go home." As if he were a sheltered child seeking a home.
"Okay, we'll go home together." I saw my own shadow from my grandfather, everyone is a green leaf, no matter how far it floats, it has been y branded by that side of the land, yes, this is the helpless and sweet destiny of every green leaf.
Then, let us fight with the love for our roots, and then hold hands and go home before the sunset.
The feeling of home
The vast river carries the sailing boat on its expedition, but the boat understands that the direction of the lighthouse is the harbor to which the heart is most attached; the turquoise sky carries the wings of the pigeons flying, but the direction of home is so clear. Just as the river flowing in the attachment, the sky swept over the thoughts, when a familiar term in the mind, the heart is always a little throbbing.
Once was so amazed at the magnificence of the leaf fall, feeling in that extreme beauty. Branches and land is only a few meters away, but the leaf resolutely break free, let the wind flap, it whirls: let the car will crush it, it is still singing, to the root of the direction of the whirlwind of the beauty of the moving. I asked the fallen leaves, the fallen leaves do not say, that should be emanating from within the sentiment, slowly experience.
Until that year, the sunshine melted, brushing over the inner small excited, warm spring breeze, but blew through the heart of the faint bitter, the door in front of the cypress tree rustling, swaying in the heart of the unwillingness to give up, that day we moved to the city family. Far away from the crystal dew in the morning, far away from the smoked bean tea in the rustic flavor of the steam out of the clear rhyme elegant Zhi, far away from the spring rain under the umbrella strolling in the ridge of the cozy. Drill into the door waiting for the car, looking at the sun reflecting the silhouette of the ancient house, the memory will be dusty in this peaceful standing courtyard, in the direction of that gradually far away, I fell in tears, can not stop falling, from the bottom of the heart out of the flow.
Far from home, in a strange city everything is so strange, but the heart seems to be more and more homesick. At this time I seem to be able to truly appreciate the determination of the fallen leaves to break free from the branches, is the power of home, is the power of the root ah. An essay by Lin Yutang once gave me deep comfort. When he was a child, he lived in Gulangyu Island, which is very close to the sea. He often listened to the murmur of the sea with his father on the seashore, and he often asked his father about the picture on the other side of the sea, and he longed for it, and he finally flew over the sea, but the other side of the sea still lingered y in his heart. He said, "When I crossed this sea by airplane, I felt that it was actually very small, and when I looked at my hometown from the other side of the sea, it was so far away." The short sentence is so meaningful, because nostalgia is the most beautiful language on earth.
Every living thing has its roots, a silk that pulls it, flowing with the most beautiful emotions on earth. At the junction of Peru and Bolivia there is a Lake Titicaca, on which lived a group of Uru people, when the sun and the moon bucket turned how many springs and autumns he is still living on the floating island, when the Inca civilization is gradually gone, when the greenhouse effect attacked, he is still insisting on sticking to it, they said: "That is the root of the growth of the waters, the root can not be pulled up, can not be shifted."
That is how simple but so moving words, with the desire to find that, with the attachment that can not be held down, and then return to that piece of familiar land, holding a cup of green smoked bean tea, pacing in the countryside, and feel the dense humidity filled with the fragrance of the soil, as if the mass of Tae general soul-satisfying, and at that moment I think I was melted. Plucked up the roadside wildflowers, I was surprised at the root system of the lush, it is generated by the brilliant colors, then I found the answer has been tracking.
The youthful me is about to set sail, a volume of books, a cup of tea, steaming with the pulse of the countryside, in the bottom of the heart there has been a lighthouse shining in the direction I came.
5. Fujian full marks essay: This is also a kind of power
Smile, just like the flow of the stream, soft and quiet; smile, just like that hanging a knife crescent moon, bright and shiny; smile, and just like that upright pine, accumulating all kinds of power ......
If there is a kind of power that can let the
That time the sky fell, that time the ground shook, skyscrapers instantly became a piece of rubble, how many lives in the rubble under the call for help. When the People's Liberation Army soldiers will be a little boy successfully lifted into the single frame, he gently smiled, with a dusty right hand to the soldiers salute! This is the smile of a child, and the smile of the people in the disaster area who are full of hope for the future. It conveys too much: optimistic and strong to live, thanks to all the friends who care about the disaster area, I'm fine!
Maybe the little boy did not think a lot, he only knew that every day is sunny, and smile, is the best treat for yourself.
We like to smile, like the corners of the mouth up, like that curved arc, and more like it conveys a power.
The volunteers of the Olympic Games, no matter what the occasion, in the face of what kind of color, nationality of people, always smile. This not only shows the elegance of a great country, but also shows the posture of the Chinese nation's tolerance. It conveys a power to the world, a power to embrace the world!
The 2008 smiling faces from all over the world also conveyed the irresistible power of a smile.
There is no need for Li Bai's laughter; there is no need for Li Bai's bloody laughter; there is no need for Li Bai's laughter; there is no need for Li Bai's laughter; there is no need for Li Bai's laughter; there is no need for Li Bai's laughter; there is no need for Li Bai's laughter; there is no need for Li Bai's laughter; there is no need for Li Bai's laughter; there is no need for Li Bai's laughter; there is no need for Li Bai's laughter. Red dust consort laugh, no one knows is lychee to" red face a smile ...... these laughs, or too wild and unruly, or too strong and tenacious, or full of flattery. And what we need is just a shallow smile.
People can easily remember Premier Wen's kind smile, that is full of confidence in his heartfelt smile. In the face of the financial crisis, calmly, in the face of sharp questions from foreign journalists, he is still smiling. He is just like a generation of Confucian, gentle and elegant in the world to treat people. His smile, is not also a kind of power, this is a kind of power to laugh at life!
Smile, is like a high torch, in the world, in the blue sky, has been passing ......
When people help you in trouble, your smile is grateful, is full of deep feelings of power; when others accidentally step on you, your smile is the power of tolerance; when bad luck When bad luck strikes you and you smile, your smile becomes the power of strength and courage!
If the whole world is full of love, full of smiles, there will be no more Iraqi wars, Israeli-Palestinian conflicts, and the Korean nuclear issue. We, as the masters of the new century, will shoulder the responsibility given to us by history, that is, the smile as a force to be passed to every corner of the world ......
6.Hunan full marks essay: tiptoe
I stand on tiptoe, probing the body toward the highway turn anxiously look, the bus how to not come! Ah, have waited more than ten minutes ......
Today's Dragon Boat Festival, the school took a day off, and then a month will be the college entrance examination, very tired heart instead of solid, have become so, Tsinghua University to go can not go, the general undergraduate should have no problem it, the anxious mood gradually calm, every monthly examination results as a movie flashed.
"Tic Tic", the car, finally came, not a lot of people, may be the sake of the noon, I sat in the window seat, the bus in the mountains and plains shuttle, the mountain verdant verdant trees, the roadside green oil green oil paddy fields, and occasionally see people carrying a medicine cylinder to play medicine, after some of the family, see the peach tree hung full of peaches, and plums, and the people who have been in the country for a long time. The first thing you need to do is to get a good look at the color of the flowers, and then you can see the color of the flowers on the bamboo poles.
Through the orange grove in the back of the mountain, we reached our own yard, and shouted, "Mom, I'm home. Mom came out of the house, hand on the apron wiped twice, smilingly received the schoolbag.
"Why are you back so late?"
"There were a lot of people on the bus in the morning, so I read a bit!"
"Got a grip?"
"Yes!"
"You, you're just overconfident!"
Mom then smiled, face all wrinkles, and then a peeled dumplings to my hands, when I was a child to wait until the middle of the night to eat a freshly boiled, and now I think the taste of the dumplings but the taste of the dumplings is not so good, mom and then out of the peaches, give me to scrape the skin.
Midday meal with fish, meat, eggs, and wild mushrooms picked by my mom, my mom kept asking me to eat more, and I was not polite, the meat has not swallowed the fish and stuffed into the mouth, and finally even the broth are soaked in rice and eaten, so bracing.
More than three o'clock in the afternoon, I have to go to school again, this time to wait until the end of the college entrance examination to come back.
Mom gave me 400 dollars.
"It's only the last month, eat well!"
"Got it ......" I trailed off.
"Don't worry, I'll get you a bachelor's degree!"
I carried my bag, and my mom carried the two meat dishes that were ready, and a bag of peaches and plums.
"Mom, I don't want it, it's so heavy!"
"Put it in the car, and do not want you to carry. To Taoyuan made a call four dollars to send you to school."
I walk in front of my mom on the small road, and she walks behind me on the big road, side by side with my mom.
"Mom, when I get into Hunan Normal University, we will have a good time in Changsha."
"You haven't even passed the exam yet!"
"Mom, when I find a tutor, I'll bring you to live in Changsha."
"Why hasn't the car come today?" , I stood on my tiptoes and probed, my mother patted the dust on me, straightened my collar, and began to nag ......
"Tick tock", finally, the car came, I squeezed on, my mother handed me something, and then stood there, the door closed. The wind blew up my mother's hair, pants empty, I waved, my mother also waved ......
It was far away, and it was about to turn the corner, I stood on tiptoe, lying on the window, and saw that my mother also stood on tiptoe and probed the body and waved to me ......
< p>7. Tianjin full marks essay: I say 90 afterIf our so-called "90 after", still wearing green恢蓝带补丁的衣服, carrying a "military satchel", singing "the sea sailing by helmsman ", reciting the revolutionary "old three", open-mouthed revolution, closed-mouth ****productivism, ready to liberate all mankind, majestically walking in the 21st century on the streets of China's modern cities, as the so-called "after 50 As the so-called "after 50" and "after 60", how do you feel? Is it proud, proud, and thus mixed feelings inspired by your good memories of the passionate years of the revolutionary era, or is it self-condemnation, sigh: 60 years, our children and grandchildren have not yet changed our poor and backward appearance and simple homogeneous thinking?
I think, when we are no longer like the "after 70", "after 80", shyly issued a "I am a small bird, want to fly ah but fly can not fly high, I look for a warm search for a warm embrace. I'm looking for a warm embrace, is this too much to ask for", when we "90s" are more willing to confidently sing "I want to fly higher, fly higher, dance like the wind, break free from the embrace, I want to fly higher, fly higher, wings roll up the storm, heart whistling". Storm, the heart of the whistling" when we show the optimism, self-confidence character, personality and self-worth of the search, openness and tolerance of the world of the flat view.
Of course, we also have a lot of shortcomings and deficiencies: the pursuit of gorgeous, fashionable, love to play personality and fresh vocabulary, like "cool" and "drag" idol temperament, lack of hard-working and down-to-earth simplicity, toughness, and even some selfishness! They are fragile, diffident, rebellious, lack collective consciousness and faith, and have the leaves of modern magnificence, but lack the roots of national tradition. But the society summarized to the "90s" disease criticism, how much is our appearance, such as the clothes we wear, just a different color, and how much is just an extreme individual "point" rather than "face" of the bias to cover the whole. How many of these criticisms are just extreme individual "points" rather than "facets", or how many of them are problems with the overall mechanism and system of the "assembly line" that produces us-family, society, education, examination, talent evaluation, employment security, democracy and the legal system, and the beliefs and values of all the people? This is indeed a problem that our "post-90s" and society need to think y about.
But just as every era has its own spiritual colors and pursuits, our grandparents advocated "****productivism", and even though they lacked a concrete knowledge of that ideal and independent thinking, they were united in their determination to create one after another, under the difficult conditions of poverty, with the support of such an ideal. They created one miracle after another under the hard conditions of poverty. Our national ideals and spirit continue to this day. Have we "post-90s" forgotten? No, we haven't. Such a spirit and realm, such a kind of toughness and fearlessness, such a kind of courage and mind, in fact, has been like blood, heredity and flow in our body. But we as the "90s", also shoulder the reform and innovation, with the times and scientific development, our country and home to build a more prosperous and strong mission. If we are still to the same father and generation like thinking, or like their old-fashioned, still use the abacus to research and development to calculate the trajectory of new missiles, I think that even if we eat chaff, rags and simple will not help. I still like Chairman Mao's poem: "Counting the streams of wind and water, we are still looking at the present day". As "post-90s", we have no reason to feel inferior, and even more reason not to be confident, the motherland to be strong, the nation to be rich and strong. We are here! Head held high and full of youthful style to come!