Fragment excerpt

1. The youthful time of Qinglan slowly passed through the fingertips. We were no longer a ignorant teenager. The shame of the past was slowly replaced by maturity, and the playful face had already been replaced with a calm smile. A few degrees of spring and autumn, a few sunset red. Time to engrave the annual rings on the face, embark on a wandering journey, join hands with the moon star, that is the home of the wanderer.

2. When I look back, I am no longer a young man who sends my heart to the world. Nowadays, I just want to be a person who washes away the lead. I like to sit alone and watch the bright spring of the scene, and write down the sacred fields in the middle of the year. Many times, I don't want to disturb the concerns that remain in my heart. Because, I always believe that there is a kind of warmth that is not on the road, but in the heart; there is a kind of understanding that will not leave because of silence.

3. Liu Xishui, often by the water. Beside the small river, the shadow of the willow tree can often be seen on the side of the canal. They sometimes gather together in three or five, sometimes one or two meet, and a pair of leisurely and faint look. They are either strong, or coveted, and they are roughly the same. There is no branch on the thick waist, only a cluster of branches grows at the top, and the text is weak and looks very delicate.

4. I stopped and watched the long river flowing quietly under the bridge. The old ferry, an awning boat docked in the rain. It seems that at this moment, everything is quiet, only this silk rain sings in the wind, sings and sways, filled the world.

5. If you can, let me make a snowflake. In order to find family, I am willing to fall in any corner of my hometown with deep love. In order to find true love, I am willing to moths and fire in the palm of my lover, and I will bloom as one person. I will perfectly interpret life in the air, because I know that the meaning of life is not about length, but about being wonderful.

6. A cool spring rain, dyed a little bit of desolate, a trace of breeze, swaying faint thoughts. I always thought that if every woman is a flower, it can be opened to the most beautiful and best. It is enough for one person to appreciate it. Once she said that she likes white Sydney flowers, and he stalks in the red dust, and looks back at a pear with white snow, gently placed on her eyebrows and heart; since then, that pure beauty, bloom into a heart Unbeaten and unsettled.

7. In the sea of ​​flowers, those light petals can't resist the traction of the spring breeze, and they seem to be surging like snow and waves. The spring breeze is strong, and then, a tree and a pear flower blooms like a snow, flying, a flower, elegant, rotten to the extreme. The enchanting whiteness of the scene is light, elegant, and elegant.

8. The choice is a brand new beginning. If you choose the towering cliffs, you need to have the belief that “the road is long and the road will be up and down, and I will go up and down”; the choice of the rushing sea needs “hanging clouds”. The ambition of the sails and the seas; the choice of the cold wind and the harsh desert needs to have the drunkenness of the "drunken sand field Jun Moxiao, the ancients to fight a few people back".

9. When love gradually goes away, no matter how humble, it is impossible to continue to write the tenderness of love when it is loved; when the feelings are slowly lost, no matter how tightly held, it is impossible to hold the heart of the encounter. They don’t know each other, they don’t know each other, they don’t care for each other. Time is a thief, stealing the fate of the encounter, only the first memories.

10. The cinnabar falls between the eyebrows, and the lazy eyebrows reflect the window. Qingfei Yang, looking at each other, whoever cuts the intestines, and the sorrow is looking back. The red sleeves are filled with fragrance, and the red candle is swaying. Jade stepping, gold robes, sings and laughs, the orchid flower before the negative thinking. When the bustling time is broken, when the flowers bloom and fall, the sorrow of whoever falls.

11. In the spring, I often go to explore spring in my spare time. In March, I saw the spring flowers, peach blossoms, jellyfish, and magnolia flowers. In April, I saw pear blossoms. The snow-white pear flower, with a faint aroma, falls on the warm and bright base, and is parked in the heart of Qingning. A kind of sweetness of memory, passing through the bleakness of time, through the ice-cleaning of pear flowers, snow, dyed the thoughts, warm feelings.

12. One season, pear flowers are open like snow, flowers are like snow, snow is like flowers, and they are swaying in the spring breeze; a kind of addictive aroma, a white tenderness, a love, and a memory. Those clean, pure days, though short-lived, are thoughts that cannot be erased in the years. The goodness that once worked together, the helplessness of separation, and the sadness and loss of the pear flower, it is a desolateness that cannot be hostile to nature.

13. Just like relying on the danger column, the repentant sorrowful sorrowful sorrowful woman, waiting for the most touching scenery on the adult road. The beauty is solitary, the heart is dark, the feelings are veins, and the words are still resting. A few degrees of dark bowel, a few brows leap. How can acacia be awkward, spring is thin and thin.