What are some relatively short, but interesting literary jokes?

At the end of a hundred thousand nights, who is for me, turn into a green lamp, and who leans on the door to look at the fireworks for thousands of years. There are few stars in the night, who is for me, holding on to the lights, who leans on the door and waits for a thousand years of loneliness.

A long distance, a long line, and a long longing. Far space, long time, cut the thoughts of the distance!

The lyrics of the song, Out of the Mountain.

In the middle of the night, I never dared to look back at the overpass.

During the day, there is a lot of traffic, and at this time there is Lethe River at your feet.

I walked alone halfway up the mountain, and the wild dogs in the mountains kept me company.

The layers of forests are dyed, and the autumn wind blows through the ghost gate.

One moment, three years and five years, tasting coarse tea and eating light rice.

The Six Realms and Eight Desolations and the Four Seas have no one to call me out.

The mountains and rivers are drunk, and the piano is cherished. Qingqing Zijin, leisurely my heart, meet love at the corner, two lonely hearts have a harbor that can be docked since then, all the time to look at each other, are in the place of expectation, colorful into a sincere love all the way.

For example, those quietly, I left, just like I quietly came to such sentences, I feel very literary.

People need to support each other to be calm and calm; The road is accompanied by charming scenery; People, in the most beautiful moment, come from thinking of relatives and friends, and the most touching moments come from being remembered by relatives and friends. Everyone has their own exclusive life, exclusive happiness and sorrow, what they can get in the future, what they should get, and the arrangement of fate, but it is more determined by what kind of self you are.

The lens in the hand is steady, between the millennium, the dream of a thousand autumns can be understood, I don't know how to reshape the face of the millennium later, reshape the moon at this time, history jumps out of the book, shouting heavily, restoring the dream of a lifetime, the dream of Jin Ge Iron Horse, the hot-blooded battle hero.

Danqing pen, waving the fingers of freehand, soft intestines but Shaohua goes, is it obsessed in the previous life, or you can not forget in this life, the night rain of the Qinhuai River is entangled with water droplets, who plays the flute, is the love owed to you in the previous life, turned into the memory of this life, the lights of Jinling City are bleak and autumnal, and the green silk changes frost and rain.

Love words, although very short, contain deep meaning, how many people are obsessed with him and intoxicated by him! Once you like someone, even the words are full of enthusiasm, love words are indispensable in life, and there are many touching love words. Yu Qiuyu said

I don't have time to participate in your past, and I will accompany you to the end in your future. This sentence is a classic. I want to come to the shallow edge, but the love is deep.

You go, I won't send you. You come, no matter how stormy it is, I will pick you up. Companionship is the most affectionate confession, and guardianship is the most silent companionship.

These words are pleasant to read, and what a blessing it would be if they could achieve it! Together, let's set out for happiness.

Life is full of tribulations, and living is a kind of cultivation. There are countless little things in life, but there are many things that cannot be taken care of; There are very few major events encountered in life, and they can only do their best to obey the destiny of heaven, and ordinary people are helpless. It's not worth it to be mindful of small things; It should not be sad for big things.

Therefore, in the face of small things, be happy; When encountering big events, be relieved.

Love is a mysterious stream, we don't know that its end is in **, only know that she is in the peaks, in the clouds and mist is particularly mysterious and magical. The creek will come tactfully, jumping, singing cheerful songs, with infinite yearning, through the snow-capped mountains, stepping through the jungle, hearing birdsong, watching the flowers, smelling the grass, enjoying the scenery, towards the sea of love, all the way forward.

There is an excuse called being young, you can not cherish time and love, and do not cherish all the hard-won things. It seems that all frivolity, all uninhibitedness can be justified at this stage! There is a word called missing, missing love, missing people who can stay together.

Maybe choosing to give up is a kind of beauty without regrets, there is a kind of loneliness called missing, missing someone, a past, an encounter, a silent night, deep longing.

I always hide in the depths of dreams and seasons, listening to the flowers and nights sing all the nightmares, sing the prosperity, and sing the way of all memories. I thought I had hidden you, in such a deep, so cold, old heart. I thought that as long as you don't mention it, as long as you let Shoko Hitachibana continue to pass, you will finally, finally become an ancient secret.

However, the sleepless nights were still too long, and the early gray hair leaked again, my sorrow. Youth, like a grand and gorgeous play, we have different masquerades, playing different roles, interpreting different experiences, but with the same sorrow. It turns out that the years do not really pass, it just disappears from our eyes, but it turns around and hides in our hearts, and then slowly changes our appearance. ‍‍

Meet the person you want to meet in the midst of thousands of thousands of years, in the endless wilderness of time, there is no one step earlier, no one step later, just to catch up, then there is nothing else to say, but to ask softly: "Oh, are you here too?" "Maybe every man has had two such women, at least two.

married a red rose, and over time, the red one changed to a smear of mosquito blood on the wall, and the white one was still "the bright moonlight in front of the bed"; married a white rose, the white one is a grain of rice sticky on the clothes, but the red one is a cinnabar mole on the heart.

The years are not dead, and the summer is over. The person who planted the flowers became the people who looked at the flowers, and the people who looked at the flowers became the people who buried the flowers. Before talking about peace, when the shed of youth becomes old**, when the old** becomes memory, when we finally stand at the fork in the road, loneliness, disappointment, hesitation, cruelty, God opened that window, called the door to growth.

I always thought that the mountains were the story of the water, the clouds were the story of the wind, and you were my story, but Hanqing didn't know if I was your story. ‍‍

You are a young Qingxing joy, and the boy you like is you. You are my warm gloves, my cold beer, my shirt with the smell of sunshine, my dreams day after day. I will be as pure as a kernel, and sleep in thy heart.

I will merge into your lake, and grow into a great tree in a leaky mass at the bottom of the water. The pen inkstone replied to search for kisses, laughing in the morning and dusk, but parting with the present day, you say, don't forget me, review me once a day.

Reading more, the face naturally changes, many times, I may think that many of the books I have read have become a thing of the past, no longer remember, in fact, they are still hidden. In temperament, in conversation, in the boundlessness of the mind, of course, it may also be revealed in life and writing. If there is an afterlife, be a bird and fly through eternity, without the distress of being lost.

There is a fiery hope in the east, a warm nest bed in the south, a remnant sun to the west, and a fragrance to the north. If there is an afterlife, I hope that every time we meet, it will be eternal.

I met a cat diving, but I didn't meet you, I met a dog climbing, but I didn't meet you in a slippery tomb. I met Tan let the acres snow in the summer, but I didn't meet you. I encountered a typhoon in winter, but I didn't meet you.

I've learned to build nets when I meet pigs, but I haven't met you. I have encountered all the extraordinary, but Sen has never met the ordinary you.

I have dreamed of geese flying over the white clouds, I have dreamed of leaves drifting through the forest, I have dreamed of tears falling into the fish tank, I have not dreamed of you.

I am the last passerby on your way, the last spring, the last snow, the last war for survival.

As time passed, I slowly understood that only what exists disappears, whether it is the city, love, or parents.