Good long sentences
1. Love is definitely not just a simple wine, it is also a torment in the winemaking process. The wine of love is both bitter and sweet, and the sweetness of the moment can cover all the bitterness. Therefore, it is bound to be a lot of people moths to try and try this bitter and sweet process.
2, the time is like an hourglass, flowing from the finger to the point. The wind dances past thoughts and floats in time. Memory, like a wind chime hanging from a window, is crisp and sweet. In the past, I once again skipped my vague eyes and crossed the heart marks. The old ones did not go, but the new marks were dyed. Sitting alone, quietly thinking, quiet and sad.
3, the mountain does not turn, the water does not stop; spend the season, the heart turns a thousand times; too many things, too many accidents, let the tender heart gradually wear in the strong and hypocritical; can not see the power, can not afford The temptation, the glitz that can't be put on; the fine nets like the rain, blurring the line of sight, and also trapping the common people of the red dust; the lotus in front of the Buddha is opened, but the smog of the smog can not be opened. People; too much trivial, too many ideas, even the Buddha can not be able to change, perhaps, only they can simplify themselves; guarding the ordinary simple, calm and calm to see the world, only in this way, the hanging heart will be quiet Jie Ruchu, occupying a place in the three-dimensional space, listening to the past and present life under Bodhi.
4. If there is an afterlife, let us make a kapok, not to storm, not to sorrow, in a vein of soil, to read the love of vegetarians; if there is an afterlife, let us do a journey, hold the child Hands, away from the entanglement of the red dust, the love of the heart, do not swear away; if there is an afterlife, I would like to be a Qinglian in your heart, with the Buddha's tolerance, forgive each other's shortcomings, not to each other, not Laughing and sorrowful; if there is an afterlife, let us cross each other, not two or two, but we can’t see each other’s touch.
5. If you give up hope, life is full of sorrow, if, love is just a dream of jaundice, no longer looking back, no longer laughing, no more, if, day after day, more nightmare, sleep. Then I will die to go back to the mountains, build a grass house, repair a garden, raise some bees, and train one or two dogs. Look at the mountains to find medicine, the night invites the moon to play the piano. The toast has a clear spring, and the Japanese meal tastes a hundred herbs. In the middle of the jungle, the cascading willows piled up, and the vines jumped over the ground. Under the bridge, there are people in the huts, and a smog of smoke goes straight into the sunset; in the sunset, peek at who is new. Waiting for the sunny day, crossing the Yellow River, breaking the waves. Feet step on Mount Huashan, hand to help the top of the mountain, overlooking the welcoming pine. Looking at the mountains and enjoying the water, this is my favorite life.
6, people have a lot of love in their lives, but don't let every love become a kind of harm. Because the injuries are mutual, hurting others and hurting yourself, it is like saying that many things you like again, and ultimately not necessarily yours, many things you are nostalgic, are also destined to be lost, because these are It doesn't belong to you, it has nothing to do with you. Or if some fate is doomed to be lost, some fate will never have a good result, love a person does not have to have, but to have a person must be good to love her. Because of love, we must cherish it.
7, those young and frivolous youth, annihilated in the long river of years. Maybe, some words are over without saying it. Maybe some people can only wave goodbye. Goodbye, forever! It’s over, with memories and sentimentality, starting another life. Your world, I am just passing by happiness, and eventually being diluted by time. In time, you will forget me. Who will I forget again? When you meet each other on a certain day of the year, you may have a greeting, you may think, and you may not meet each other. In life, many people came and went, leaving a memory and quietly leaving. Who will remember me after many years? Who else do I remember?
8, after the dream of high-locked building, Chunjiang green water, only see Yan Yan Qing sing, the mountain reflects the sun and the sky, the Xuan window alone, the bright moon cold and condensed constantly, the sky pale silver river interstellar 寮, looking through the autumn water Tianya Road, that hit the powder嫣 嫣 ,, that 袂 袂 芬 罗 罗 罗 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 袂 袂 袂 袂 袂 袂 袂 袂 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣That one traces the beauty of the city, and the fascination of the world's customs, see each other. Unrequited love, whoever is old, has to mutter to himself, smashing the ancient dynasty.
9. Nothing is necessary, and there is no wrong way. There are thousands of lives in your life. It depends on what kind of life history you want. It may be simple, maybe cumbersome, maybe painful, maybe tangled; but there is a little It must be borne in mind that at the end of life, you must return to the original starting point and be responsible for the path you choose; don't let yourself regret it, don't let the thorns that have passed before, because your life is the brand of your life.
10, alone, sitting can not, standing is not, thinking Yi, smashed a dust, still. A piece of zither sound, and it hurts, smashes the language, and floats the business, making lingering, sprinkling the coolness, playing the joys and sorrows, spreading the bustling, quietly silent, reading the thousands of times in the years. As soon as I saw it, Shen Yunyu, azure color, plain, listening to dreams, flat and smashing, deep and tender, accompanied by prosperity, in the years, Enron swayed the long dream, waiting for me.
11, how many people, because of loneliness and love one person, how many people, because of betrayal and hurt a person. How many people, because they love someone who shouldn't love, but regret it for a lifetime. And some love is doomed to be incompatible. In the red dust years, how many regrets are lost in the years of the flow. The change of years has made many beautiful loves out of reach.
12, many people like to talk about fate, I always report "hehe", but I do not know if we are because of fate? Like the majority is an impulse, love is sacred, love can be a matter of a moment, it can be a lifetime of things. Everyone can fall in love with different people at different times. A creature like human beings can be said to be the most emotional creature. If you look carefully, you will know that it is all scarred. Whether love is still loved, everyone has different feelings. The cost of re-seeking the past is often not affordable by many people, and it cannot be hurt.
13, red dust and a dream, the hairline cross. It is difficult to find a few innocence, the years are blurred, and the marriage is a few wrong. Intoxicated in the words of tears yellowing, how many hackers are falling red? A season of Fang Fei has been scattered; how many stories have not ended? It turned into a resentment in the Tang and Song dynasties; this situation can be treated as recollection, but it was already at a loss, indulging in the past, and enjoying the dance in the youth. On the bank of the river, the willows, I don’t know what year is it?
14, in memory, it seems that you can no longer outline your face, the crouching picture, still linger in the depths of my mind. Every cold night, I used to wait in the streets of no one, waiting for the result of the love blossom. Say it, no longer sentimental, learn to forget. However, the condensed eyes have become the window of thoughts. It turned out that once I was obsessed with it, I ended up with no results.
15, the setting sun goes down, the sky is full of red color hanging on the clouds, the string of flowing water briskly steps, no one will cry because of the sunset, no one will be sad because the sky is getting dark; because the sky Still hanging on the eve, hanging clouds, hanging quiet; the world looks like a multitude of tunes, and those who still rushed to follow the trail; after dawn, the chickens are as old as yesterday, and life begins again. A new chapter.
16, alone, a sunny day, looking at the clouds and drifting away. Lonely at dusk, but see Cangshan stretch. The wind blew across the shallow pond, and the coolness scorned me. The gull bird suddenly whirls and screams. A melodious song, flowing my own strings. But I don't know why, those gray misses are always wrapped around my eyes. And your gradually blurred face, and then the sky that is dyed by the sun. But I can only hold the silence, sitting in the wilderness of this night when I want to come, let the bleak lingering in my heart, slowly spread.
17, from the vigorous touch, and then love to not love, the end of the crowd is a painful process. If there is another sky in this world, another Taoyuan can ignore the consequences and can simply love. There will be many people looking for this paradise. Here, pray for another encounter and love again; here, you can Escape the left one, the right one of the secular chains, each other, will not struggle to chill.
18, love a person may be just a moment, this kind of electric light and flint-like emotions, is a beautiful section, but also the most blazing part, such as the fireworks in the end to exhaust the beauty of life, in an instant, love comes. But when it finally fades, maybe in your heart, you need to use your life to sculpt.
19, a plain pen, a thin, want to be full of lovesickness books. Who knows the beginning of the complaint is actually so difficult. Perhaps in this life and in this world, I can't write the end of the article. A window, a string of strings, and a lonely place. The endless thoughts, as my heart broke, accidentally dropped to the fingertips, flowing in the strings. Therefore, the embarrassment circulating in Tianyu is the pain and sadness that I can't say. A core lamp, a book, a star-studded, to the end of the world without words, with the bleak companion, conscience and sleep. I hope to return to the tears, soaking the pillows at night. I really want to think that in the night, you can use a small hand of condensed fragrance to dry it for me. A pot of tea, a cigarette, and how much time you can spend. I really don't know how long it will take to stop thinking. Why my love is always stranded by you. It is still necessary to make a lot of sadness and hardships before you can board the boat that you love. The autumn wind is cold, the night is stunned, and the railings are alone, watching you join hands. Sitting and watching the bamboo as a shallow pool, the breeze wrinkles the water at the end of the day. How can you feel the heart, break the building, and suddenly hear a tribute to the geese.
20, maybe on a certain day, with a brown look back, it will eventually become a grain of dust, when it falls, it just hurts at a certain moment. In this way, silently, only a leaf that flutters in the wind, tastes his own sea and mulberry fields, reads his own troubles, quietly, and feeds himself in the red dust with honor and disgrace. Gradually slide in the wider and wider fingers. Turning around, looking back, it is the exhaustion of thousands of sails, faint laughter, and it is the sea of sangtian. The years are just a long river, and all life is just a tiny dust, carried by one boat, called the past and present. At that moment, where is the fall, who knows?
2, the time is like an hourglass, flowing from the finger to the point. The wind dances past thoughts and floats in time. Memory, like a wind chime hanging from a window, is crisp and sweet. In the past, I once again skipped my vague eyes and crossed the heart marks. The old ones did not go, but the new marks were dyed. Sitting alone, quietly thinking, quiet and sad.
3, the mountain does not turn, the water does not stop; spend the season, the heart turns a thousand times; too many things, too many accidents, let the tender heart gradually wear in the strong and hypocritical; can not see the power, can not afford The temptation, the glitz that can't be put on; the fine nets like the rain, blurring the line of sight, and also trapping the common people of the red dust; the lotus in front of the Buddha is opened, but the smog of the smog can not be opened. People; too much trivial, too many ideas, even the Buddha can not be able to change, perhaps, only they can simplify themselves; guarding the ordinary simple, calm and calm to see the world, only in this way, the hanging heart will be quiet Jie Ruchu, occupying a place in the three-dimensional space, listening to the past and present life under Bodhi.
4. If there is an afterlife, let us make a kapok, not to storm, not to sorrow, in a vein of soil, to read the love of vegetarians; if there is an afterlife, let us do a journey, hold the child Hands, away from the entanglement of the red dust, the love of the heart, do not swear away; if there is an afterlife, I would like to be a Qinglian in your heart, with the Buddha's tolerance, forgive each other's shortcomings, not to each other, not Laughing and sorrowful; if there is an afterlife, let us cross each other, not two or two, but we can’t see each other’s touch.
5. If you give up hope, life is full of sorrow, if, love is just a dream of jaundice, no longer looking back, no longer laughing, no more, if, day after day, more nightmare, sleep. Then I will die to go back to the mountains, build a grass house, repair a garden, raise some bees, and train one or two dogs. Look at the mountains to find medicine, the night invites the moon to play the piano. The toast has a clear spring, and the Japanese meal tastes a hundred herbs. In the middle of the jungle, the cascading willows piled up, and the vines jumped over the ground. Under the bridge, there are people in the huts, and a smog of smoke goes straight into the sunset; in the sunset, peek at who is new. Waiting for the sunny day, crossing the Yellow River, breaking the waves. Feet step on Mount Huashan, hand to help the top of the mountain, overlooking the welcoming pine. Looking at the mountains and enjoying the water, this is my favorite life.
6, people have a lot of love in their lives, but don't let every love become a kind of harm. Because the injuries are mutual, hurting others and hurting yourself, it is like saying that many things you like again, and ultimately not necessarily yours, many things you are nostalgic, are also destined to be lost, because these are It doesn't belong to you, it has nothing to do with you. Or if some fate is doomed to be lost, some fate will never have a good result, love a person does not have to have, but to have a person must be good to love her. Because of love, we must cherish it.
7, those young and frivolous youth, annihilated in the long river of years. Maybe, some words are over without saying it. Maybe some people can only wave goodbye. Goodbye, forever! It’s over, with memories and sentimentality, starting another life. Your world, I am just passing by happiness, and eventually being diluted by time. In time, you will forget me. Who will I forget again? When you meet each other on a certain day of the year, you may have a greeting, you may think, and you may not meet each other. In life, many people came and went, leaving a memory and quietly leaving. Who will remember me after many years? Who else do I remember?
8, after the dream of high-locked building, Chunjiang green water, only see Yan Yan Qing sing, the mountain reflects the sun and the sky, the Xuan window alone, the bright moon cold and condensed constantly, the sky pale silver river interstellar 寮, looking through the autumn water Tianya Road, that hit the powder嫣 嫣 ,, that 袂 袂 芬 罗 罗 罗 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 那 袂 袂 袂 袂 袂 袂 袂 袂 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣 嫣That one traces the beauty of the city, and the fascination of the world's customs, see each other. Unrequited love, whoever is old, has to mutter to himself, smashing the ancient dynasty.
9. Nothing is necessary, and there is no wrong way. There are thousands of lives in your life. It depends on what kind of life history you want. It may be simple, maybe cumbersome, maybe painful, maybe tangled; but there is a little It must be borne in mind that at the end of life, you must return to the original starting point and be responsible for the path you choose; don't let yourself regret it, don't let the thorns that have passed before, because your life is the brand of your life.
10, alone, sitting can not, standing is not, thinking Yi, smashed a dust, still. A piece of zither sound, and it hurts, smashes the language, and floats the business, making lingering, sprinkling the coolness, playing the joys and sorrows, spreading the bustling, quietly silent, reading the thousands of times in the years. As soon as I saw it, Shen Yunyu, azure color, plain, listening to dreams, flat and smashing, deep and tender, accompanied by prosperity, in the years, Enron swayed the long dream, waiting for me.
11, how many people, because of loneliness and love one person, how many people, because of betrayal and hurt a person. How many people, because they love someone who shouldn't love, but regret it for a lifetime. And some love is doomed to be incompatible. In the red dust years, how many regrets are lost in the years of the flow. The change of years has made many beautiful loves out of reach.
12, many people like to talk about fate, I always report "hehe", but I do not know if we are because of fate? Like the majority is an impulse, love is sacred, love can be a matter of a moment, it can be a lifetime of things. Everyone can fall in love with different people at different times. A creature like human beings can be said to be the most emotional creature. If you look carefully, you will know that it is all scarred. Whether love is still loved, everyone has different feelings. The cost of re-seeking the past is often not affordable by many people, and it cannot be hurt.
13, red dust and a dream, the hairline cross. It is difficult to find a few innocence, the years are blurred, and the marriage is a few wrong. Intoxicated in the words of tears yellowing, how many hackers are falling red? A season of Fang Fei has been scattered; how many stories have not ended? It turned into a resentment in the Tang and Song dynasties; this situation can be treated as recollection, but it was already at a loss, indulging in the past, and enjoying the dance in the youth. On the bank of the river, the willows, I don’t know what year is it?
14, in memory, it seems that you can no longer outline your face, the crouching picture, still linger in the depths of my mind. Every cold night, I used to wait in the streets of no one, waiting for the result of the love blossom. Say it, no longer sentimental, learn to forget. However, the condensed eyes have become the window of thoughts. It turned out that once I was obsessed with it, I ended up with no results.
15, the setting sun goes down, the sky is full of red color hanging on the clouds, the string of flowing water briskly steps, no one will cry because of the sunset, no one will be sad because the sky is getting dark; because the sky Still hanging on the eve, hanging clouds, hanging quiet; the world looks like a multitude of tunes, and those who still rushed to follow the trail; after dawn, the chickens are as old as yesterday, and life begins again. A new chapter.
16, alone, a sunny day, looking at the clouds and drifting away. Lonely at dusk, but see Cangshan stretch. The wind blew across the shallow pond, and the coolness scorned me. The gull bird suddenly whirls and screams. A melodious song, flowing my own strings. But I don't know why, those gray misses are always wrapped around my eyes. And your gradually blurred face, and then the sky that is dyed by the sun. But I can only hold the silence, sitting in the wilderness of this night when I want to come, let the bleak lingering in my heart, slowly spread.
17, from the vigorous touch, and then love to not love, the end of the crowd is a painful process. If there is another sky in this world, another Taoyuan can ignore the consequences and can simply love. There will be many people looking for this paradise. Here, pray for another encounter and love again; here, you can Escape the left one, the right one of the secular chains, each other, will not struggle to chill.
18, love a person may be just a moment, this kind of electric light and flint-like emotions, is a beautiful section, but also the most blazing part, such as the fireworks in the end to exhaust the beauty of life, in an instant, love comes. But when it finally fades, maybe in your heart, you need to use your life to sculpt.
19, a plain pen, a thin, want to be full of lovesickness books. Who knows the beginning of the complaint is actually so difficult. Perhaps in this life and in this world, I can't write the end of the article. A window, a string of strings, and a lonely place. The endless thoughts, as my heart broke, accidentally dropped to the fingertips, flowing in the strings. Therefore, the embarrassment circulating in Tianyu is the pain and sadness that I can't say. A core lamp, a book, a star-studded, to the end of the world without words, with the bleak companion, conscience and sleep. I hope to return to the tears, soaking the pillows at night. I really want to think that in the night, you can use a small hand of condensed fragrance to dry it for me. A pot of tea, a cigarette, and how much time you can spend. I really don't know how long it will take to stop thinking. Why my love is always stranded by you. It is still necessary to make a lot of sadness and hardships before you can board the boat that you love. The autumn wind is cold, the night is stunned, and the railings are alone, watching you join hands. Sitting and watching the bamboo as a shallow pool, the breeze wrinkles the water at the end of the day. How can you feel the heart, break the building, and suddenly hear a tribute to the geese.
20, maybe on a certain day, with a brown look back, it will eventually become a grain of dust, when it falls, it just hurts at a certain moment. In this way, silently, only a leaf that flutters in the wind, tastes his own sea and mulberry fields, reads his own troubles, quietly, and feeds himself in the red dust with honor and disgrace. Gradually slide in the wider and wider fingers. Turning around, looking back, it is the exhaustion of thousands of sails, faint laughter, and it is the sea of sangtian. The years are just a long river, and all life is just a tiny dust, carried by one boat, called the past and present. At that moment, where is the fall, who knows?
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