Good passage: a famous passage describing "sacrifice"

Mid-Autumn Festival in August, Galactic Night. High curative value is zero, the standard does not move, and Diao Dou is silent. Jiang Wei led 49 people to guard outside the account. Kong Ming set up a fragrant flower sacrifice in his tent. There are 7 headlights on the ground, 49 small lights outside, and a monument lamp at the core of life inside. Zhuge Liang bowed to Zhu and said, "Liang was born in troubled times and would like to be an old nymphs. He inherited the thought of Emperor Zhaolie's three visits to the cottage, and he cared for his orphans. He dared not spare the dog's efforts and vowed to be a traitor. If you don't expect the stars to fall, you will die. I would like to write a book, appealing to heaven, looking down at heaven, listening to his words, judging by it, repaying your kindness, saving people's lives, returning the past and prolonging the world of Han Dynasty. If you are afraid to pray, it is really because of your feelings. " After saying goodbye, I bent down in my tent. (Luo Guanzhong: Romance of the Three Kingdoms, pp. 900-90 1)

The woman opened the door, and Song Wu asked the soldiers to prepare soup and rice. Song Wu lit candles and put wine and plates in front of the bed. The second time on duty, the arrangement was correct. Song Wu fell to the ground and said, "Brother, the ghost is not far away! You were weak when you were alive, and you can't see clearly after you die today. If you are wronged and hurt, entrust your dream to me, and my brother will avenge you. " Pour the wine, burn the paper money, and burst into tears, making both neighbors cry. This woman still pretends to cry in it. Song Wu cried, ate soup, rice, wine and vegetables with the soldiers, begged for two cushions, and told the soldiers to sleep in the middle door. Song Wu put a cushion and slept in front of the coffin. Women go upstairs and downstairs to sleep. (Shi Naian Luo Guanzhong: The Water Margin, p. 320-32 1 p.)

This is the year-end ceremony of Luzhen, paying tribute to the gods and praying for good luck in the coming year. Kill chickens and geese, buy pork and wash it carefully. Women's arms are soaked in water, and some are wearing twisted silver bracelets. After cooking, put some chopsticks on this thing, which can be called "blessing ceremony". They were displayed in the fifth watch and lit incense sticks, and the worship was limited to men. After the worship, it is still natural to set off firecrackers. Every year, as long as we can afford gifts and firecrackers, this year will be the same. (Lu Xun; "Blessing" and "Wandering", page 2)

Religious feelings, impressions of the past, respect for ancient sacrifices and the symbol of protecting the pure white virgin all hang over all this. The church was built next to the pub, with leaves scattered on the steps, as open as a dark bay. The church is full of fragrance, candlelight shines in the dark, and the walls are covered with boatmen's offerings. The fiancé e of the missing boatman and the widow of the victim are surrounded by some amorous girls. They come out of the church of death wearing slender black veil and smooth headscarves, and their eyes are lowered, like a dark notice, quietly passing through the noise of this world. The sea not far away will always be the great nurturer and destroyer of this kind of strong men, and it is also in turmoil and noise, participating in this grand event ... ([France] Luo Wei: "Icelandic Fisherman" p. 29)

Good paragraph: a famous paragraph describing "marriage"

He took out chopsticks wrapped in red paper hidden in his boots. He hesitated, and his hand trembled slightly. He raised his head. He was a little timid, but he had to summon up the courage to pick up the veil on the bride's head and even put it on the eaves of the bed defiantly. A pink incense came to my nose. He raised his eyes and stole a glance at the bride. His heart was pounding. But he didn't see anything clearly. There are only some shaking beads and a pink face in front of him, but he doesn't know what kind of face it is. He heard someone whisper, "The bride is much taller". (Ba Jin: Autumn, p. 239)

She landed in the middle of a Sanma rubber-tyred car, wearing a red cotton-padded jacket, blue satin cotton trousers below, new red satin embroidered shoes on her feet and red velvet flowers on her head, followed by a car, two trumpeters, four old men and two matchmakers. Red cloth stripes are hung on the bridle of the horse and the whip of the owner. When the car drove into Guo Quanhai's new home, it was getting dark and the sun was stuck. Xin Niang's car is parked outside the gate. Small speakers are gathered around, and women and men follow. They looked at Liu Guilan wearing a red flower and a red cotton-padded jacket, as if they were strangers. Liu Guilan looked down and blushed. This red cotton-padded jacket is divided into fruits. It turned out to be too fat. Liu Guilan made it fit perfectly overnight, and women talked about her appearance and dress ... (Zhou Libo: Storm, p. 460)

After a while, Mangu saw many torches in the distance, often carrying the shadow of his hand, taking oil from a dark jar and then walking towards the torches. At the head of the wedding procession, there is the best band in the whole area. There are long silk strips floating on the drums on both sides, and decorations made of beads and shells are hung; The copper pipes of the two flutes sparkled with golden light under the flickering light of the torch; Weinaqin is beautifully decorated with dark yellow ears. Behind the band is a group of riders, whose beautiful feathers on the Baotou are as proud as peacocks. The rider's moustache was neatly trimmed, and the tip of the moustache was proudly upturned. The laggards beat the ribs of thin and half-dead horses with their heels in an attempt to make them dance, or at least raise their drooping heads, which are always dissatisfied with everything. Several riders stabbed and kicked their beautiful horses. The horses almost fell off their saddles when they jumped. They shouted several times, trying to win the sympathy of the people around them. The cavalry followed closely, and four elephants walked solemnly, with strings of small bells tied on their heads, necks, chests and limbs, making a pleasant sound. On the sedan chair set up on the elephant's back, sat a group of beautiful country girls, who snuggled shyly together. The girls' cheeks are flushed, and the pendants hanging under their ears are flashing rainbow colors. A sudden gust of wind blew away their shawls and headscarves, and they walked against the wind, just like fairies who hurried back to heaven after meeting their lovers on earth. ..... At the end of the wedding procession, there were some soldiers on foot. Their clothes rustle and smell charming-the only gift that soldiers can give to girls and get their favor in this area is perfume. ([Pakistan] Kasmi: Burglary, a collection of short stories by Aina Kaslai? 0-7 1 page)

So this is a difficult day for Peter. Peter sat in the front corner of the house, knowing that his brow was furrowed. He thinks it's not good to make the bride look unhappy, but his eyebrows can't relax, as if they were sewn by a hard thread. He frowned at the guests, shook his hair and scattered snake grass on the table and Natalie's veil. She also lowered her head, slightly closed her eyes wearily, pale, scared like a child, and trembled with shame. "Wine is bitter,1"-this is the twentieth time that some people with red hair faces and twisted teeth have growled. Peter turned around like a wolf, without bending his neck, lifted his veil, and slammed his dry lips and nose on his cheek. He felt a coolness on her skin, just like touching satin, and her shoulders almost trembled with fear. He felt sorry for Natalie, and he was ashamed, but the crowded drinkers shouted again, "The groom won't!" " "Fuck your lips!" "Just call me a kiss ..." The drunken woman's voice screamed, "I kiss you 1" "Wine is bitter!" Basky shouted. Peter gritted his teeth and put his mouth on the bride's wet lips, which trembled. Her whole body is white and seems to melt, just like clouds in the sun. They are both hungry and haven't given anything to eat since yesterday. Peter drank two glasses of sparkling Qin Muliang Four Seasons wine because of the confusion of his mind and the strong smell of hops. He felt drunk, but he was afraid that the bride would notice. Everything around me is shaking. A group of ugly faces formed red bubbles, condensed into a pile of mottled tones and scattered everywhere. The son looked at his father with a pleading and angry expression. ([Su] Gorky: At Home, pp. 22-23)

In order to marry the bride, four two-wheeled vehicles were set up. Many people were beautifully salvaged, just like celebrating the New Year in China, and gathered around the car in Melehoff's yard. Pietro is sitting next to Gregory. Dalia sat opposite them, waving an embroidered handkerchief. Whenever the car drives to a low-lying area or Gorkon, the singing will be interrupted. Cossack's headbands, blue-blue uniforms and suits, white handkerchiefs on the sleeves, rainbows woven by women's embroidered headscarves, flowered skirts, and dust fluttering behind each car like fine gauze. This is the wedding procession. Several cars rumbled into the yard. Petro led Gregory up the steps, and the wedding people followed them. The door opened, and the female media was Natalia's foster mother, a beautiful widow. She bowed and greeted Pietro O with a smile on her purple face. "Best man, please have a drink, for your health." She handed me a glass of cloudy unfermented Gowasu. Pietro brushed aside his beard, took a sip and snorted. When the best man bickered with the matchmaker, according to the rules, he offered three cups of Voltaire to the groom's family. Natalya has put on her wedding dress and veil, and many people are gathered around her table. Mary Higa had a rolling pin in her hand, and Graepp card proudly shook a sieve to prepare for sowing. Relatives and family members of the bride sitting around the table stood up and made way. Pietro put one end of the handkerchief in Gregory's hand, jumped on the bench and led him around the table to the bride sitting under the icon. Natalia's heart beat so hard that she broke out in a sweat. She holds the other end of the handkerchief. When everyone left the table, a man leaned down and sprinkled a handful of millet into Gregory's boots: this is to prevent the groom from doing stupid things. ([Su] sholokhov: Quiet Don River, p. 120- 125)

The ceremony was conducted in accordance with the law. The rabbi wore an old satin coat and wrote an engagement letter, asking the bride and groom to touch his handkerchief as a sign of agreement. The rabbi wiped the tip of the pen cap again. Several doormen put up the awning, ie called from the street to make up the number. Dr. Fei Carlson wore a white robe to remind people of the day he died, and Dobby walked around him seven times according to the custom. The light from the ribbon candle flickered on the wall, and the shadow was the narrowest. After pouring the wine into the cup, the rabbi sang a song of blessing with a sad melody. Dobby only let out a cry. Other women took out peach blossom handkerchiefs, held them in their hands, and stood making faces. ..... Now, it's time to put a wedding ring on the bride, but Sina's hand began to shake, and it took a lot of effort to put the ring on Dobby's index finger. According to custom, the next step is to break a glass, but Dr. Fei Carlson kicked a few feet and didn't crush the glass. Girls bow their heads, and you squeeze me happily, and I squeeze you and giggle. The last apprentice crushed the glass with his heel. Even the rabbi couldn't help laughing. ([America] Singer's Spinoza in Market Street, Singer's Short Stories, pp. 42-43)

The groom danced vigorously in the middle of the room, jumping from song to song until he was exhausted. Dushka.-How beautiful she is. Soft as a snake; The crown on her head hangs loosely on her face, but it is more suitable for her amorous feelings. Sometimes she broke away from the groom's hand, shook her thigh and began to dance in front of him. Sometimes she rotates like a whirlwind, making the corolla on her head rotate with the beat, so that the flower tips hanging from the corolla brush the faces of people near her. She turned around and around, and then suddenly joined the dancing crowd. The groom followed her, sometimes catching up with her, and sometimes letting her go. He jumped up like a goat, patted his boots with both hands, then spread out his hands as if to hug her, and ran after her. As he ran, he sang: I am a big man, and this beauty is a tulip in my own grange. He jingles coins in his pocket from time to time. Otherwise, he took out two taller ones and threw them high into the air. Then he reached out and grabbed them and threw them to some gypsy musicians. "Hey, gypsies! This is not the final reward! Do you understand? " ([Canon] mikshat; Strange marriage, page 26 1-282)

Good paragraph: a famous paragraph describing "labor"

At this time, people have been the same as when charging in a war: some have lost their straw hats, some have taken off their cloth shirts, and all the sickles are flashing, as if people are flying, sickles are flying, and wheat and electricity are flying. It seems that there is a whirlwind blowing in the wheat fields covered with poplars, blowing the wheat pieces down and then blowing them into bundles. On the way from poplar to the village, ox carts, mule carts, backpacks and burdens are very wide. (Zhao Shuli: Old Quota and Selected Novels of Zhao Shuli, pp. 423-424)

The cart pulling wheat rushed out of the village, and one, two, three ... yellow smoke rolled up behind the cart. Bells jingled, hooves clanged, red tassels whipped, drivers sang Hebei minor, and men sang female voices while holding their voices, which made him laugh! In a short time, the cart drove into the wheat field, and the members who followed it jumped off the cart one by one with ropes and wood rights in their hands. One of them missed his footing and hit his ass. The member who just stopped the sickle ran over to help move the wheat, return the wheat pile and load the car. Some pick it by weight, some grab it by hand, pick it up and throw it into the car. In a short time, every car was packed like a hill, and several people went up and put it on. There are some strong boys below, shouting their songs and shaking the "wringer". The rope with thick arms tied the wheat tightly ... When the cart was loaded, it was full and high. The young man driving first threw the fork off the car and the man climbed up. The handle of the carriage shook the whip solemnly and proudly, and passed by, and the animals in the long cover leaned against the axle again. As soon as they shouted "Drive", the cart roared back along the road, wobbling like a fat man who had eaten a lot of japonica rice stew. (Haoran: sunny day, P.1194-1195)

We climbed the levee through the thick snow, watching and drinking! The light is as bright as day. I suddenly realized that this must be the pumping station of Wanjin Agricultural Association. The caisson project is drawing to a close, a big pipe sucks water from the bottom of the pit like a black python, and the machine is ringing in a water pump room built by a reed mat. Many people wear long rubber boots and pants and work in ice water. The steel cable in the air lifts the cement precast blocks and sends them below. Half of the foundation wall for installing the pump has been built. Along the huge pit and criss-crossing wooden springboard, people carrying dirt are busy. The electric lights hanging in the air sway with the wind, and the snow and fog are spinning, shaking and flying like a roll of white blanket cloth. (Liu: A Warm Snowy Night and Collection of Short Stories Since the Founding of the People's Republic of China, p. 337)

Levin paid more attention to Ivan Palmi's and his wife. They are loading hay into the car not far from him. Ivan Palmi's standing in the car, accept, put away, trample on a large bundle of hay, this is his beautiful young wife deftly handed him. She picked it up one by one, and then put it on with a fork. The young peasant woman works leisurely, happily and flexibly. Compacted hay doesn't spread easily on her fork. First, she raked the hay loose, stuck it in with a fork, then pressed her whole body weight on the fork with agile and elastic movements, and then immediately bent her back with a red belt. She lifted herself up, lifted her plump chest under her white shirt, turned her fork flexibly and threw bundles of hay high into the car. Obviously, Ivan wants to reduce her unnecessary labor as much as possible. He quickly opened his arms, took the bundles of hay she threw, and laid them flat on Chedan. When she finished raking the last straw, the young peasant woman brushed the grass clippings that fell on her neck and cut the red scarf that hung down on her white forehead that was not tanned by the sun. She climbed into the car to help tie it. Ivan taught her how to tie the rope to the crossbar. After listening to her words, he laughed. From the expressions on their faces, we can see a strong, young and newly awakened love. ([Russia] lev tolstoy: Anna karenin, p. 402)

Behind the poplars, the wheat field stretches from the avenue to the top of the mountain like a dazzling yellow carpet. The wheat on the hillside has been cut and tied into bundles, but the wheat field at the foot of the mountain has just been harvested ... Six wheat cutters stand in a row, waving sickles, and the sickles are shining, and they all say "Fuxi, Fuxi!" Sound. From the action of the peasant woman who tied the wheat, from the face of the reaper, from the light of the sickle, we can see that the summer heat is roasting them and suffocating them. A black dog with its tongue sticking out ran towards the carriage from the reaper, probably trying to bark for a while, but stopped halfway and looked at Jane Niska. She shook her whip to scare her. It's so hot that the dogs don't bark! A peasant woman straightened up, put her hand on her aching back, and stared at Guo Ye Rusika's red cloth shirt. I don't know whether the red shirt caught her attention or whether he reminded her of her children. In short, she stood there motionless and stared at him for a long time ... ([Russia] Chekhov: Grassland, Selected Novels of Chekhov, p. 157)

Two brown horses have run north and disappeared, but Guido knows; They will stop soon, because they are tired, but the mare may continue to run to the edge of the lake bed and go back to the hill she is familiar with, where the truck can't be tracked. He drove the truck straight ahead and picked up speed, but a minute later, he caught up with the mare. He drove to the left of the mare because the foal ran to the right of the mare. He found the mare very big and wondered if it was really a wild horse. He drove beside the mare, looked at the mare's side and tried to find a seal, but the mare didn't seem to act like a seal. Then, through the window of his right head, he saw the lasso fly out and land on the mare's head. He also saw the mare's head held high and then flinched. He turned his head to the right, put his left foot on the brake and saw the mare dragging a tire to a stop. The free pony looked at the mare and walked quickly to her side. So he walked straight on, across the flat lake and riverbed, to two black spots, and the black spots expanded rapidly until they became the two brown horses, standing there quietly watching the coming trucks. He drove the truck among them. When they flew, Pailes, who was standing on the left, trapped a horse, and Guy trapped another horse almost at the same time. ([America] Miller: The Untimely Man, Collection of Contemporary American Short Stories, p. 170)

Good passage: a famous passage describing "funeral"

Wu Fu deacons, wearing gowns made of black cloth and belts made of thick, long and wide white cloth, just walked from the gate to the living room as a mourning hall. In the hot sun, they rushed back to the dog door to go to the new clothes rack of Yin-all of them were so tired that they were sweating. /kloc-before 0: 30, eight people in this class can sometimes sit on the wooden bench next to the "drummer" at the gate for a minute or two, lift the white cloth belt around their waist to wipe the sweat on their faces, change the fan into a white post with the word "Yin" written on it, take a breath, and complain that Master Wu refuses to employ more people, but when the poisonous sun shines directly on his head, clothes hangers flood in like a tide. The two classes of drummers at the gate and in front of the mourning hall kept beating, and the deacons of this "leading" road simply became running machines, and they didn't even want to complain about Master Wu's mind. At most, I accidentally glanced at the six deacons who served in front of the mourning hall and secretly envied their good luck. Car horns blare, flutes, suona, small class gongs, mixed with "funeral music", attendants jostle around shouting "there is a place to pour tea, there is a place to open soda", clamoring for dinner at the starting place, and scouts at the gate are driving the shouts of others; The spicy taste of cigarettes, the sweat on people; They all formed a piece, pervading the halls and rooms of Wu Mansion and the garden covering an area of 89 mu. (Mao Dun: Midnight, page 365438 +0)

When the ceremony was held, I felt a panic and a premonition of the future. I couldn't stand it. Finally, the body was put into the coffin and nailed. Then the undertaker put the coffin on the hearse and set off. I only walked with him for a block. When he got there, the driver suddenly drove the car away, and the old man ran with the hearse-crying loudly, but the running action always made the crying tremble, and. On and off. Later, his hat fell off and the poor old man didn't stop to pick it up. Although the rain hit his head and the wind blew again, the rain and snow kept stinging and hitting his face. He ran from one side of the hearse to the other, as if he didn't understand this cruel thing-the sides of his old coat were blown like wings by the wind. Every pocket of his clothes is bulging with books, with a big book under his arm and tightly held to his chest. Passers-by took off their hats and crossed their chests when the funeral procession passed by. Some passers-by stood there and stared at the poor old man in surprise. The book slipped out of his pocket from time to time and fell into the mud. Therefore, someone stopped him and told him to pay attention to his book. He stopped to pick it up, or ran to follow the hearse. At a corner of the street, an old woman in rags followed him closely until the hearse turned the corner and I finally disappeared. ([Russia] Dostoevsky: The Poor >; & gt page 64-65)

Carla's wife can't leave her husband alone in the grave. Besides, this unfortunate woman doesn't want to live alone herself. This is a custom and an obligation. This kind of martyrdom is common in the history of New Zealand. Clara's wife appeared. She is still very young. Her hair hung over her shoulders, and she howled and choked, crying loudly. While crying, she complained, blurring the sound of the lake, lingering whining and intermittent sentences praising the morality of the dead. When she was extremely sad, she lay at the foot of the mound and rolled her head on the ground. At this time, the bone-gnawing demon came to her. Suddenly, the poor victim tried to stand up again, but the chief dance "Rem"-a terrible mallet-suddenly fell to the ground. She can't breathe. ([France] Verne: Captain Grant's Children, p. 664)

He glanced at the crowd standing around the grave. They are all policemen, all dressed in casual clothes, the same raincoats, the same straight black hats, and holding umbrellas like swords. These strange vigils blew them from nowhere, and their loyalty seemed unreal. Behind them, the city government band lined up in an echelon, dressed in black and red uniforms, and was urgently called. They all desperately protected the golden instruments under their coats. They just surrounded the coffin, and the coffin lay flat over there. A wooden box, without wreaths and flowers, was a warm place, buried in this endless rain, and splashed on the ground monotonously, consistently and endlessly. The priest has finished reading it. Nobody noticed. There is only rain here, and people only hear the sound of rain. The priest coughed a few times first, and then coughed a few times. So the bass horn, trombone, French horn, cornet and bass flute played together, arrogant and majestic, and the musical instrument shone golden in the rain curtain, but it also sank, dissipated and stopped. Everything retreated under umbrellas and raincoats. It's been raining. The shoes sank into the mud, and the rain merged into a river and flowed into the empty grave. ([Swiss] da Lematte: The Judge and His Executioner, p. 45)

Everything is ready for the funeral. The elders put the hearse beside the cremated woodpile. Valeria went up and closed the eyelids of the deceased. According to the custom at that time, she stuffed a copper coin into the mouth of the deceased and asked him to pay Xinglong for the boat crossing the rushing Akron River. Then, the widow kissed the dead man's lips and said loudly according to the custom, "Goodbye! We will follow you in the order arranged by God. " Musicians began to play funeral music, and the devotees slaughtered many animals designated as sacrifices in the music, mixed their blood with milk, honey and wine, and then sprinkled them around the cremation pyre. After all this, undertaker began to pour sesame oil on the woodpile, sprinkle all kinds of spices, and pile countless laurels and garlands. The wreath is multipolar, not only covering the whole woodpile, but also stacked thickly around it. Thunderous applause resounded through Mars Square, responding to the young triumphalist and the marshal who conquered Africa's respect for the dead. A flame appeared and disappeared, and then spread rapidly. Finally, the whole woodpile gave off countless winding flames and was shrouded in clouds of fragrant smoke. ([Italy] Giovanni Orly's Spartacus, p. 246)

Tagore Das Mukherjee's wife died after seven days of high fever. Old Mr Mukherjee made a fortune in the grain business. His four sons, three daughters, grandson, son-in-law, relatives and friends, and servants all arrived, as if it were a big festival. People from the village also flocked to visit this grand and decent funeral. The daughters cried and put a thick layer of rouge on their mother's feet and feet, and put a cinnabar in the middle of her hair. Daughters-in-law put sandalwood cream on her mother-in-law's forehead, wrapped precious sari, adjusted her clothes, pulled her shawl low and gave her mother-in-law a final touch. Colorful flowers, green leaves, rich sandalwood, garlands of various colors, and a' noise' make people unable to smell sadness-it seems that a rich housewife who has been away for 50 years has set off for her husband's family again as a bride. Mr. Mukherjee calmly said his last farewell to his wife, secretly wiped away two tears and began to comfort his crying daughter and daughter-in-law. "That's great! Julie! " The muffled thunder-like praise shocked the clear sky, and the whole village set off with the funeral procession ... The crematorium was on the beach by the river outside the village. Wood, sandalwood chips, ghee, honey, rosin and dill resin, all of which are needed to burn the body there, are ready. ..... When the body was burned on a huge and gorgeous woodpile ... Everyone shouted the holy name of "Great Interests" in unison, and the son took the torch purified by the curse of the Brahman priest and lit the burial fire ... It is really difficult for me to talk about the fire in the son's hand. Sister-in-law J's husband, son, daughter, grandson, relatives and friends, servants-everything in the world. ([Indian] chatterjee: Opaji's Paradise, Collection of Foreign Short Stories, pp. 462-463)