10 beautiful essays worth accumulating for middle school students

After graduation, youth does not end. Beautiful phrases for summer.

Pen pal --- France] Balzac.

I, the Temple of Earth, Mother" -- Shi Tiesheng.

Friendship"--Shen Congwen.

About Friendship - Yu Qiuyu.

Hopping, hopping, hopscotch" - Snow Zen.

The Taste of Life" - Xi Murong.

My Philosophy of Life" - Wang Meng.

Never Finished" - Zhou Guoping.

Rising to the Challenge] John Pierpont Morgan.

Spring Tree Tassel - Wang Wenhua.

Look at the flowers" - Zhu Ziqing.

Talking about raising birds" - Zhou Zuoren.

Taoyuan and Yuanzhou"--Shen Congwen.

I am a boat, and a book is a sail" - Zhang Haidi.

Prisoner of Green - Lu Stupid.

Modernization and Snails - Cheng Naishan.

Shakespeare -- France] Hugo.

Lose. Pregnancy.

The autumn wind takes away the yellow leaves, and the insomniac winter blocks the black memory. The dragonfly that clicked on the water inadvertently woke up the sleeping fish, and the ripples on the surface of the water were like annual rings gradually aging in memory. The sky is deep and blue in the reflection of the glass, as if the rain in the flower season is like a blurred thought.

The poplars outside the car window flew by, and they were depressed in the depths of their minds, waking up a trace of nostalgia. There is also more room for reverie.

The dim streetlamps stretched out the lonely figure and walked slowly into the twilight of the night. Helplessly wandering on the way home. A spark is a dark hope, but it's only a spark. Not everyone can hear the angel's footsteps.

The drizzle melancholy gave it the right to weep. Youth is gone, but troubles are still there. The kite with a broken string broke free from its restraints but lost its way. It's like a child's dream. The wind passed through the gap in the trees but did not stay, and the bridge tree was still waiting for its next arrival.

Can you get it back? Can sincerity really move heaven and earth? Seeing things and sending affection, missing the scene, the sea of people, the mundane things, the feelings are relative, and I have no regrets!

The years in autumn.

Thinking is the drunkenness of longing, and the dew of Kangqiao is the tears of autumn. The cycle of time sooths a trace of memory. Leaving is not a renunciation of a commitment, but a beautiful turnaround. The past is like the wind. Nostalgia for the past. The protagonist of the tragedy uses tears to release silence and sincere prayer.

Collect the natural inspiration in the morning light, compose a vivid love song, and return the drizzle to the big sedan chair. I don't want the firmament nuclear sail to ignore another helpless person.

Birds leave the sky in a reverie. Sailing makes the water more thoughtful. This bird track, why did this boat mark make the people in the Yan Shan place sigh again.

The antique blue bricks on the city wall record the expressions of the years, rushing around, empty, and losing strong motivation. Suddenly looking back. Look for the only memento of the deep thoughts.

The cold autumn rain wakes up long memories. It also fades into a beautiful episode.

Cool early autumn. Silk rain remnants. Tired and tired.

Just for that beam of purple smoke of life.