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Tolstoy's appearance He was born with a hairy face, more vegetation than clearing, and a thick beard that made it difficult to see his inner world. The long hair covered the cheeks, the lips, and the dark face wrinkled like tree bark, and fluttered in the wind one by one, quite with the demeanor of an elder. The eyebrows, about a finger wide, are like tangled tree roots, upside down.
Locks of gray curls were piled up on his forehead like foam. No matter which angle you look at, you can see the lush beard like a tropical forest. Like Michelangelo's Moses, Tolstoy is an unforgettable image of his fatherly beard like a rolling white wave.
People have tried to use their imaginations to remove the hair that covered his face, trimmed his beard that grew wildly, and used the portrait of him as a young man to shave his beard, hoping to conjure a smooth face with magic. This is a signpost to the inner world. As a result, we can't help but start to cringe.
Because, it is undeniable that this man from a famous family is poor-looking and was born with the face of a field villager. The soul of a genius resigned itself to a low house, and the workshop of the soul of genius was not much better than the leather tents built by the Kyrgyz. The hut was shoddy and built by a rural carpenter, not by an ancient Greek craftsman.
The beam above the small window, the forehead above the small eye, looks like a firewood chopped with a knife. ** Hides dirt and dirt, lacks luster, as rough as the exterior wall of a village made of branches, and in the middle of the square face, we see a wide, two-hole lion's nose, as if it had been knocked down by a fist. Behind the unkempt hair, there is no way to hide the pair of ugly provocative ears.
Two thick lips are born in the middle of the sunken cheeks. The general impression left is that it is disorderly, rugged, mediocre, and even vulgar.
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Excerpt from the biographies of famous people.
He had piercing eyes, a panther-like gaze, finger-wide eyebrows, a thick nose with a swarthy face, and a white curly beard.
What an ordinary face, it doesn't stand out in the crowd, and people don't know that the person with a different face among them is actually a genius of high status, no, it should be said that the soul of a genius, he is Leo Tolstoy.
It's amazing to look at his sharp eyes, this is a pair of eyes that can really see through people's hearts, when he looks at others, it's like he is looking through other people's souls, hitting other people's vital points makes others want to take a step back, I want to avoid his panther gaze, but I can't succeed.
Like a bullet penetrating the armor of camouflage, it cuts through glass like a vajra knife".This kind of enlarged and exaggerated description makes Tolstoy's keen and sharp eyes extremely vivid, and can arouse the reader's rich imagination and association. The author describes Tolstoy's beard, eyebrows, beard, ** as follows:
The long hair covered the cheeks, the lips, and the dark face wrinkled like tree bark. One by one, fluttering in the wind, quite the demeanor of the elderly".
The eyebrows, about a finger wide, are like tangled tree roots, upside down. ”
Locks of gray curls were piled up on his forehead like foam. No matter which angle you look at, you can see the lush beard like a tropical forest.
…He had a fatherly beard like a rolling white wave."
What we saw was a wide, two-hole lion's nose, as if it had been knocked down with a fist."
The head with more vegetation than the clearing, the two thick lips wrapped in a large beard, the nose, the black face, it was an ordinary face, but when he had eyes enough to see through the hearts of others, it no longer looked like an ordinary face, like a perfect masterpiece of God, his face and anything else were just ornaments and shells of his eyes, ordinary and "perfect".
Imagine Leo Tolstoy in his later years, when he smiles, he must be like a kind old man, no, it should be said that his eyes are smiling, but his mouth is closed, and when those eyes are smiling, the light in his eyes must be as bright as hundreds of millions of stars falling in his eyes.
Think for yourself. Relying on others is useful.
I said ......You're talking about "Beethoven"!
Romain Rolland (1866-1944) was a famous French writer, playwright, critic and social activist. Born in 1866 in the town of Cramsey, in the department of Nievreux, France, from 1897 to 1903 he wrote "Saint-Louis", "The Wolves", and "The Triumph of Reason". In 1904, Romain Rolland began to write his masterpiece "Johann Christopher", which is Romain Rolland's masterpiece, his most important novel**, and in 1915, despite the obstruction of France, the Swedish Academy decided to award him the Nobel Prize in Literature that year, in recognition of "the noble idealism of his literary works and the sympathy and love of truth with which he depicted various characters".
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