The more excerpts written out of the 200 word famous article, the better

Lin Qingxuan: A real laurel.

The clues of this fate can be followed, and there is room for a turn. lost both feet, and two hands; lost his right hand, and his left hand; Lost eyes, and a clear mind; Lost life and beautiful dreams - as long as life is not extinguished, a warm soul may shine in the darkest corner.

The journey of life is an amazing country, no one can spend a life completely without suffering, if a pain is frightened, a setback is the same room, then, you can never turn a thousand waters into a white practice, forever can be a hundred sounds into a song, and you can never reach the realm of perfection.

A sunny window Lin Qingxuan.

As mortals, we don't have the luck of the gods, we look up every day, and see the clock on the wall ticking and hurrying footsteps, even if we sit on the balcony and meditate, we can see the sun rising, the moon setting, the wind passing, the stars sinking, flowing from the far sky. One day, we met a teenager and noticed that he had a few gray hairs, and we were in a slightly middle-aged mood. One day, we suddenly noticed that the lilacs in the yard were blooming, but when we came back from a trip, the petals fell all over the ground.

One day, we saw that the old house in front of our house had been demolished, but not long after, a brand new building was built. One day ......We finally realized how ruthless and domineering the passage of time and the transfer of space were, and there was no room for negotiation at all.

1.How are you? I'm fine (Hiroko stood in the snow and burst into tears and shouted over and over again to the valley where Fujii tree died) - Shunji Iwai, "Love Letter".

2.Indecision I like.

I like it when I don't have any fighting spirit.

I still like that you can't do anything alone.

I like to feel sluggish.

Your smiling face is my favorite - Shunji Iwai's "Rainbow Goddess".

3.The last thing Alice said to Miyamoto.

I love you, goodbye. —Shunji Iwai, "Flowers and Alice".

4.People can't go to heaven at all, because after death, the soul will fly to the sky, but the moment it touches the clouds, it will turn into rain falling - Shunji Iwai's "Swallowtail Butterfly".

5.The excitement of Shanghai alleys comes from the most everyday scenes, and this excitement is not turbulent, but accumulated little by little. - Wang Anyi's "Song of Long Hatred".

6.The rows of alleys are flowing with something unexpected and reasonable, this thing is not a big thing, but it is trivial and detailed, and the sand can become a tower. - Wang Anyi's "Song of Long Hatred".

7.The afternoon is the middle of the day, the waiting for the end of the day's hope, impatience and depression come one after another, and hope is also the hope of struggle. - Wang Anyi's "Song of Long Hatred".

A light heart can withstand anything.

I see all kinds of people every day and observe how they live, so I am more lenient with myself and less myself, indeed.

In fact, we are naturally fond of comparing ourselves with others, and our happiness and misfortune depend entirely on the sum of the people we compare ourselves with.

Thing, therefore, the greatest danger is to be alone, and we are born not to be restrained by imagination because of poetic fantasies.

Nourish and create the idea that you are the lowest person, so that everything else seems to be better than the other.

It's only natural that everyone is more perfect, and we often feel that we are missing the qualities that others clearly have, and that we are.

All the advantages of possession are added to another person, and some ideal qualities are added in this way, and in this way, one is fast.

The result is a happy and perfect person – the perfect character created by our imagination.

On the other hand, if we just keep forging ahead regardless of our own strengths and difficulties, we will find that although there are delays along the way.

When we are on par with or even surpass others, then we will feel a real sense of worth.

- The Troubles of Young Werther

The years are like a river, the left bank is the unforgettable memory, the right bank is the youth worth grasping, and the middle is flowing fast, is the faint sadness of youth. There are many beautiful things in the world, but there are not many that truly belong to you. Watching the flowers bloom and fall in front of the court, the honor and disgrace are not shocked, looking at the clouds in the sky, and there is no intention to stay.

In this chaotic world, it is also a state of mind to be able to learn to treat everything around you with a normal heart.

I sat there quietly, hearing the sound of raindrops overhead, and at this time the sound was better than the silence, and I felt immeasurable joy in my heart, as if I had drunk the fairy dew and inhaled Daigo, and I had a great sense of fluttering immortality. This sound is slow and urgent, sometimes high and low, sometimes loud and sometimes heavy, intermittent, sometimes such as golden sound and jade vibration, sometimes such as Huang Zhong Da Lu, sometimes such as big beads and small beads falling on the jade plate, sometimes such as red and white hu sinking into the sea, sometimes such as playing the prime, sometimes like dancing thunderbolts, sometimes like a hundred birds contending, sometimes like a rabbit falling into the eagle up, I think about it, I can't help myself, my heart is full of joy, and the wind is born at the bottom of the pen. The dead words seem to come alive, and I seem to be overflowing with youthful vitality again.

I have rarely had such a spiritual state in my life, and it is even more difficult for outsiders to be human.

Excerpt from the essay "Listening to the Rain", by Ji Xianlin.

About 200 words, okay?

Ye Tingcheng's "Whose Heart, Hung in the Rain and Forgot to Collect" I feel more after reading the full text.

I shuddered and took out the two Three Gorges stones from my arms, and in the warm chrysanthemum background, I was still the same peaceful old gentleman: "You know? On that day, I bought these two Three Gorges stones for you, and I always felt that they should be, me and you, when we are old.

In the past few days, I have been keeping it close to my body every day, which is my second heart. Now, for you, in the future, no matter what you become, as long as I know my heart, I will know you. ”

My heart, my warm heart, was held in my hand cautiously, but she took a step back and gently pushed my hand away: "It takes a lot of courage to wait, and I can't afford to be hurt again." Amon, don't give me hope, disappointment is the most bitter medicine in the world.

She got up, "I'm leaving." ”

I wanted to hold her tightly and tell her that the earth will never grow old, and the sky will not be barren, just like the true feelings of the earth. And the whistle urged one after another, and she had such a resolute figure in the heavy rain, but the moment she turned around, her face was blurred......

No matter what kind of call and heartbreak there are on the ship, the ship will always leave the shore in the heavy rain, walk in the long river of time, gradually drift away, and gradually disappear on the horizon of fate.

All the water will eventually flow to the sea, but can all the separated people have a time to reunite?

And whose heart is it, hanging in the rain and forgetting to collect it?

At that time, in Nanjing, I had just begun to remember some fragmentary things, and a beautiful countryside often appeared in the picture, I quietly walked away from the adults, sat alone on the grass, and the sycamore leaves began to fall and fall, and many mysterious beauty fell into my heart together. I was suddenly confused, and my little mind could hardly bear the excitement. I picked up a fallen leaf in such a daze.

The leaves are yellowish-brown and curved, like a boat carrying dreams, and on the side of the boat there are two beautiful sycamores. Every gust of wind, I shuttle through the rain of fallen leaves, picking up sycamores from the ground. There must be a sycamore or two that I haven't picked up sprouting in that meadow, right?

Twenty years later, I can still hear the distant west wind, and the falling leaves in the wind. I can still see the boats carrying dreams, sailing in the grassland, sailing in the hope of a seed.

Zhang Xiaofeng, "Autumn, Autumn".

Appreciation: This text expresses the love for the sycamore leaves with beautiful brushstrokes. The onomatopoeia of "簌簌" is vivid and expressive, allowing the reader to guess the scene as well.

"Mysterious beauty" writes the characteristics of the autumn sycamore, mysterious, beautiful, the sycamore leaves are full of infinite charm and beauty in the eyes of the author, and they are extremely infectious. Using metaphors, the form of sycamore leaves is vividly described. The author described the color and shape of the leaves, and at the same time compared the leaves to a boat, and there is a boat side when you put it on, and the plane tree on the side of the boat makes everyone who reads it fascinated and wants to see this beautiful plane tree.

The author has a rich imagination and expresses the beauty of autumn to the fullest.