Dai Wangshu selected 40 classic sentences.

Second, the orange flowers here smell like southern teenagers.

Third, Wan Li soared, past lives and afterlife.

I'm tired of seeing the rose color now, she is covered with delicate red.

5. You go further and further, towards the crumbling fence and through the rain lane.

If someone asks me about my troubles, I dare not say your name.

Seven, I am waiting, the night is long, but you are lying listening to Haitao gossip.

Eight, it is said that it is acacia in the far sea, and it is said that it is lonely and autumn.

Your dream has blossomed when you are old.

Ten, I watched my sideburns fall, so I ushered in the autumn decorated by you.

Oh, now, I'm a little cold, a little cold and a little depressed.

Twelve, I sit at night listening to the wind, sleep at night listening to the rain, and realize how the moon is lacking and how old the days are.

Thirteen, I hope she will always have the right person's face, Chunhua's face, and the heart of first love.

Fourteen, holding an oil-paper umbrella, wandering alone in a long, long and lonely rain lane.

I thought I was a friend, but I was wrong, because it brought me sadness.

Sixteen, I sat listening to the wind at night and the rain during the day, only to know how the moon is lacking and how old the days are.

I am a collection of youth and aging. I have a healthy body and a sick heart.

Eighteen, lonely hearts chasing dazzling clouds, eyes used to seeing the blue sky like the threshold of invasion.

Nineteen, poetry comes from reality through imagination, not only truth, but also imagination.

20. Dreams will blossom, and dreams will bloom with beautiful flowers. Seek priceless treasures.

Although the last autumn wind has not yet arrived, I have already felt its coldness from your silence.

Twenty-two, your dream has blossomed, your dream has blossomed, when you are old.

Twenty-three, it is not just the sea, clouds and trees that interrupt the soul dream. Unknown passers-by hesitated in an instant.

When I saw the color of your morning glow, I felt the sadness of my falling moon. But like a cloud on the edge of dawn, troubles and grievances float into my heart.

Twenty-five, the dead branches lament in the cold wind, and the dead leaves wither on the avenue. Sparrows are singing, and half of them are self-mutilation.

Twenty-six, the rhythm of poetry is not the cadence of words, but the cadence of poetry emotion, that is, the degree of poetry.

Twenty-seven, it is better to live silently and bathe in your brilliance. Once told to future generations, it is said that some people were the happiest in the past.

Twenty-eight, you dragged me into a dream, but I forgot you in other dreams. Now I water the roses every day, but the orchids wither.

Twenty-nine, it is said to be the melancholy of lonely autumn, and it is said to be the nostalgia of the distant sea. I'm afraid to say your name when someone asks me what's on my mind.

Thirty, rain, incisively and vividly; Wind, floating, swaying; The heart is beating in an orderly way; People are walking happily.

Thirty-one, it seems that you can see a touch of blood red floating in the rippling sea, sky and blue, while the space-time universe is lonely and unchanging.

Thirty-two, the sunset glow scatters brocade in the dusk sky, and the stream flows gold in the sunset; My slender shadow floats on the ground, like a lonely soul at the bottom of an ancient tree in the mountain.

Thirty-three, take a six-hour lonely long distance, put a bunch of camellia beside your head, and I'll wait. The night is long, but you lie down and listen to Haitao's gossip.

Thirty-four, in the elegy of rain, her color faded, her fragrance dispersed, even her sighing eyes and the melancholy of lilacs.

Thirty-five, don't be stupid, don't be deaf, don't be old and strong, the road to life is all ignorant, and it is best not to ask for answers. Look at the sky, stars, moon and sun.

Thirty-six, the stars come and go, the universe runs, spring and autumn, people die, the sun is infinite, and space is infinite. We are just little summer worms and frogs.

You are Ye Er, and I am Breeze. I love you on the branches and on the streets. Come on, you blow your breeze and I'll give you my life back.

38. Memory is trivial and will never stop unless I cry sadly or I fall asleep. But I will never hate it, because it is loyal to me.

Thirty-nine, but to make her happy, I can only smile. I can only smile like a happy person, because I want her to forget her loneliness and the homesickness that binds her.

40. The sound of hunting horns in the forest is very pleasant, and walking on dead leaves is also a pleasure. However, I know the heart of a single man very well. Today, I have no such leisure interest.