Super good-looking circle of friends copywriting super good-looking circle of friends talk about it.

Wave your sleeves, the breeze and the bright moon, smile at the sky, live a happy life, walk a pair of steps, travel all over the mountains and rivers, and have a beautiful heart.

I hope someone will stand with you at dusk in this life, someone will ask you how warm the porridge is, someone will accompany you to turn off the lights, and someone will read you for the rest of your life.

I envy its quietness and hate its loneliness.

I am willing to wait under the starry sky until a star is touched by me. Cut through the silent sky, full of my wishes, and slide over your pillow.

If there is sleep in the mountains, the pillow is the moon, and if you are thirsty at night, drink a silver bottle to drain your blood.

If I had white hair and faded face, would you still be like this, holding my hand and being gentle?

Flowers are gone, and there is still the sound of flowers falling in my heart. A flower, a flower, falls gently on the barren mountain.

Writing a letter is really a very gentle thing. Delicate thoughts are hidden in all directions, like a shy little beast hiding between affectionate lines, sealed with wax, waiting for the moment of unsealing, jumping out and jumping into the soft waves in the eyes of the believer.

Spring outing, apricot blossom blowing, young and romantic.

Fold some wider lotus leaves, wrap them in moonlight, and put them in Tang poems, which are flat and flat, like crushed acacia.

Thank the moon for its mercy, but it won't be round tonight.