Beautiful and artistic sentences

1. See through, calm down, lock up, be quiet, bury yourself there, let the lights outside the window, let the grass grow, let the warbler fly, let the tired heart perch quietly in the running water and leave the world behind.

In late autumn, I can get rid of fatigue and embark on a journey alone. While it's not too late in late autumn, I accompany the rain, the light train, I wait at the window, watching the scenery outside the window change, creating a fuzzy vision, weaving a string of ribbons, bouncing my heart ... only waiting. Late autumn. Dredge the rain in a dream.

You refuse to leave, so indifferent that you can't see my regret, and you can't see my repentant heart. There is no room for sadness, and no matter how much you regret, you and our earth-shattering love can't be kept.

4. Grab a handful of sea water, moisten your eyes, roll up thousands of piles of snow, and laugh at falling flowers. All the past is like water and agarwood on the shore; It's deep and refreshing to take a hug, and the lingering in those arms is interpreted as a cloud in a silent place.

5. The misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, scattered waves and past lives's dream. I don't know if my memories overlap. I combed past lives, and a water lotus quietly bloomed in a lotus lake. Not glamorous, not glamorous, just faintly open, guarding your own time. Looking at the long years and carving the old face, I still feel like yesterday, neither sad nor afraid, nor worried or hurt. Looking at the sunset, smiling, as warm and beautiful as a blooming flower.

6. Perhaps the most beautiful time in the sky is not when the morning glow is red, but when the sky is clear in Wan Li. Perhaps, when the sea is the most vast, it is not the continuous gushing of waves, but the far-reaching connection between water and sky when it is calm; Perhaps, the most beautiful time of flowers is not when the mountains are full of red, but when they change.

7. Flowers bloom and fall, but a distance, joys and sorrows, but quicksand in time, seize it and cherish it; If it breaks up, it won't bother you anymore.

8. The world of mortals is endless. Who is deeply attached to it? A roll of painters, who messed up a piece of love? Acacia is a song, whose affectionate eyes are full of resentment? I can't wear the desolation at the end of the song; Write the endless ups and downs of origin and extinction; I can't see nothingness in the lens. Who destroyed my city and whose heart did I lose? From then on, that face was forgotten in the end of the world, and you burned incense in your last life, but you missed the emotional lingering in this life. As promised, this is always a dream about pipelines.