About favorite prose

Like is like, don't force yourself if you don't like it. It is such a simple truth. The following are my favorite essays for your enjoyment.

Prose about Favorite _ Beautiful Prose about Favorite: Slight Favorite, in the wind of shallow summer.

Some feelings arrive in the faint summer sunshine, gently collect a wisp, and then gently bloom in the eyebrows.

Shallow days are full of the warmth of years. Some miss, mountains grow high, and some like. For example, the lingering flowers and the whispering eyebrows. Listening to the sound of strings in the wind, my heart will turn a simple pen, leaving a wound on the road I walked, crossing a sheltered depression, writing down simple feelings, and there will always be some memories. Find a quiet place, smell the tea and keep your own scenery. No matter how noisy the time is, remember to bring it.

It is beautiful to cook a quiet meal, pick flowers and make wine in this gentle time, taste it alone in the fragrance of time, and be quiet and not talk.

In the sky in June, there is a shallower, faint sitting in a corner, feeling the comfort of the breeze around the shoulders, leisurely looking at the white clouds in the sky, fresh and gentle, enjoying this faint feeling, not deliberate, not tired, calm and good.

In the faint time, a wisp of wind can blow away the leisure worries in the heart, and a touch of green can also taste Zen. Light is the blank space in ink painting, leaving only the artistic conception of the characters; Light is the ethereal, distant and open breath in the mountains, light is close to reality, happy with fate, light life is like a drop of water, vivid and simple, persuasive, gentle with vegetation, peaceful and quiet at any time, and the most beautiful is the joy between the eyebrows.

Write a poem with all the silence and put it in June's eyes. It must be colorful grass, flowers, distant mountains and clouds. Light smoke is safe in light green. I always believe that every landscape is deeply attached to it, knowing it without understanding it, and still feeling deeply.

Some encounters in life, if remembered, are like the blooming of begonia, with fragrance scattered in the palm of your hand. Even if you leave a blank for the rest of your life, it is also the most beautiful miss. In those days when pear blossoms were like snow, it was flowering in a poem, and it took a thousand turns in one sentence and was caught in a misty rain. In the dream, they are all flower watchers, giving gifts to each other. Time is so clear and gentle, like a purple butterfly. The tacit understanding in their eyes is joy, with the most beautiful gesture.

When the summer breeze blows the pale green covering the threshold of the years, those fingers that still linger in my heart will gently touch my eyebrows, and a poem can also be turned into a painting. Looking back, the flowers in the misty rain Liuxiang, with their first fragrance, are still the transparency of mountains and rivers. I always feel that fate is really wonderful. Just looking at you in the crowd made a legend. It has always been believed that good love is to think of a scene and dream with a person. No matter how lonely you live, there will be a touch of warmth flowing in your heart, which is appropriate and stable when you think of it. A good life is not simply loving someone and counting the days, but this person smiles at you and understands you from the heart.

Some emotions, not gorgeous, are simply met and missed, even if they are just holding a person's hand and walking against the wind.

If I am a flower, I am also the most common little flower in the world of mortals, which blooms and falls with the seasons. I kissed the wind's eyebrows with joy, and I was intoxicated by the rain. The waste in those words is just a song written for loneliness. After Qian Fan, I will finally blossom beautiful flowers on the secular land. I know very well that there must be a kind of knowledge that will come through a weak soul, and the finely divided time will eventually realize the redemption of the soul. Be a clean flower and grass, bloom into a tree for you with the state of mind that you can get the moon first by being close to the water, so that all the coolness can be nourished by love, and you can walk through the joys and sorrows of life without changing your feelings. Decorate the dull fleeting time with a wisp of floral fragrance.

Idle, standing by the window, watching the clouds float away gently, just like my thoughts, floating in the wind of Pinellia, missing a person, just lightly, loving a person, just lightly, lightly, is to put him and his thoughts in my heart, that kind of beautiful feelings, such as gardenia blossoms, are pure and fragrant in my heart. I always believe that there is an emotion in this world, which is not spoken, but read deeply, such as dew in the morning, clear and transparent. In the fleeting time, unforgettable.

Time always produces compassion. The most beautiful time in the world is in a distant moment. No matter what kind of meeting we had, there is only a gentle poem dotted with years, such as looking for the past and looking back in the begonia flowers, which is the most beautiful scenery.

In the morning, I say nothing, and I can see the time clearly by following some old words. I always feel that there are green mountains and green waters living in some sentences. If I meet them by chance, it will be like meeting an old story. A flower has a memory, and a grass can wake it up. Sitting in a word, looking back leisurely, the faint mood is already a faint fragrance. Some agreements no longer need a word, just because they have been watching each other not far away. Put a person in your heart, put beauty in one word, not afraid of rhyme, and don't care about style. Just read it occasionally, and your heart is happy.

Sometimes, life really doesn't need much, just two or three branches for enjoyment. The most beautiful thing in life is not the splendor of summer flowers, but to gain an understanding in the fleeting time, pick up the fragrance of time, and turn yourself into a faint scenery with sunshine and rain. I believe that when you walk, the flowers will bloom.

June poetry heart, I want to write down the most beautiful dreams in words, weave graceful brocade with clouds, wait for the sun to come late with a clean heart, and the breeze lifts my clothes. This season, there is too much joy, expecting that the soul will rely on the cool soul somewhere. A person, quietly facing the time, I will sink my thoughts into the shallow water of Ming Che, lingering in love, enjoying a flower with a calm and appropriate touch of green, banishing some feelings to the years, savoring the tranquility and fragrance, and happily accepting the pure beauty endowed by time.

The sky is spotless after the rain. Walk in the breeze and let the elegant skirt dance with the wind. This time is shallow and beautiful, and occasionally white flowers come into your eyes. That purity is like the initial heart of loving someone. In this shallow season, with a heart, wind, agarwood, dancing with beauty, guarding you, guarding the initial bud and joy, waiting for an eternity of your own in this summer of fireworks floating white?

Prose about Like _ Beautiful Prose about Like: Like, like quietly.

Like a person, very sweet, so sweet that I feel distressed, lingering faint fantasy; Like a person, very bitter, bitter and sour, scattered with shallow sadness; Like a person, very simple, with a beating heart; Like a person, very quiet, keep a pure heart. Considering this, I like it.

It is a wonderful thing to like someone. She is with you every day, doing what you like, listening to your favorite songs, looking at the person you like, and emitting charming fragrance from the bottom of my heart. The fragrance is very light and pure, but it has become the most beautiful flower in my heart. Everyone has a flower in his heart, invincible, and a beautiful soul has aura. She will choose a kind person and plant this eternal flower language for her.

I like to be alone, reminiscing about the past years in a silent fantasy, strolling in the ancient temple of the soul, and looking for the truth in my heart. The book in my heart is really cute and lively, and it will always be like a child. She stays in your arms, quietly guarding the pure land in your heart and accompanying you through every post station in your life.

Although, I didn't appear in that place. Just like a person standing upstairs quietly looking at you, you are standing downstairs looking at the distance, perhaps whispering with the truth in your heart. Miss the beauty and amnesia of the past, and elaborate on the youth that can't go back. Youth is the most beautiful song. From birth to death, we are all singing and writing about our feelings. I didn't mean to walk into your youth. This is just a gift of youth. You entered my feelings. From then on, my youth began to travel, and it is unknown where I finally went.

I like to travel alone and take my soul with me, where my soul can be placed, because you have branded my soul. You like the sea, which is boundless and is the hope and beginning of life. You like walking by the sea and watching the waves. You always have a smile on your lips, as if it were you, so free. You like listening to the sound of the sea. You said it was the daughter whose mother called home. At this time, your heart is so quiet that I feel pity. Your heart is sour and astringent, so I can't help crying. Your heart is so safe, waiting for the next spring.

I like reading alone, because I have your taste and voice. You like reading quietly, and you can only hide in the distance and watch you quietly at a time. Look at your low eyebrows and smiling, look at your locked eyebrows and thinking deeply, look at the thoughtful words written by your pen tip, and look at your light and elegant scroll marks. In the world of books, you are so quiet and beautiful.

I like listening to your voice. It's as simple as that. I can feel the warmth in your heart. You speak so slowly that time has stopped breathing. I hope to cut a memory gap in time and space and keep this beauty in my heart. I am afraid that you will suddenly disappear that day, without your way, afraid of losing your way.

I like walking alone. Somehow, I came straight to your house, and I could see it through the twilight. The rain in the south of the Yangtze River is always so affectionate, just dancing at this time and dripping on my shawl. There seems to be a faint light in the distant sky street, telling the lovesickness of this night with this silent dusk.

This night, very quiet, so quiet that I can only hear a drop of clear water in my heart, I don't know when it will fall and moisten this dry heart. This rain, perhaps a wish made under the bodhi tree in my last life, has now turned into this teardrop of acacia, which falls in my heart and makes my calm heart restless again. This rain, quietly listening to my story, quietly guarding that throbbing heart, I don't know when I can hold her in your arms, watch the flowers bloom and taste the warmth of the world. I like to think quietly alone, close my eyes, and your beautiful image appears in my mind, but I always want to linger.

I didn't mean to dream of this world of mortals, but I just missed you alone. Maybe in a previous life, you were Zhu Shazhi in my palm, so I can meet you in this life. You came suddenly. I didn't have time to write down your face, but I was attached to my heart. I kept wandering in my heart. I didn't know where to send my heart, but I wrote down this love and pity and made a wish. Knowing that you are by my side, I feel particularly safe and like you, as simple as that. I want to leave a legend in the world, a poem by you and me. Don't need gorgeous, don't need lingering, just need the love woven by you and me.

Like a person, like an orchid in an empty valley, it is refreshing; Like a person, like the ice in the forest, tenacious and selfless; Like a person, like Tianshan snow lotus, simple but elegant and precious; Like a person, like Gesanghua all the way, quiet and peaceful; Like someone?

If you like someone, you just want to like it all the time. No dust, no distractions. I just want you to be happy every day. This heart can't be taken away or kept, just like it, quietly like it, like your favorite.

About favorite prose _ About favorite beautiful prose: I like it.

I like the sunshine in winter, unfolding in the confused morning fog. I like peace and distance, and I like light and heat without noise.

I like walking on the narrow mountain road in the spring breeze. Strawberries are like delicate red lanterns, knotted diligently all the way. I like to look up at the sharp buds on the treetops. There is a naive pink in the extremely tender yellow-green color.

I like the long days in summer, and I like to sit alone on the balcony on the hillside at windy dusk. All over the mountains, rice surges and beautiful fragrant rice churns. Slowly, the gorgeous clouds are washed away, and the soft evening stars are in place one by one.

I like watching the swaying Miscanthus in the autumn wind. On the hillside, by the water, it is so bleak, beautiful and lonely.

I also like dreams, and I like the strange enjoyment in dreams. I always dream that I can fly over mountains and rivers. I dreamed of a brown horse flying in the wind with shiny curly hair. I dreamed that flocks of wild geese were resting on the beach grass. I dreamed that lotus flowers were like the sea, with no boundaries at all, showing off the vague scarlet in the distance. What is the most difficult time to forget when I dreamed of watching the sunrise in front of Purple Mountain? It must not be purple, but emerald blue, reflecting the red sun rising in Ran Ran, so I conjured up such a strange mountain scene in my dream.

I also like flowers, no matter what kind of flowers. I like thin autumn chrysanthemums, rich roses, lonely and clean lilies and leisurely and fragrant flowers. I also like those unknown little wildflowers in the deep mountains, which are cross-shaped, welcoming, star-shaped and spherical. I think they enjoy the same prosperity.

I like another kind of flower, which blooms on people's smiling cheeks. Walking in the alley on a cold morning, I smiled at the thin lady at the door and said, Good morning! ? Suddenly I feel that the world is so kind, and my fingers wearing leather gloves no longer feel stiff. The air is full of goodwill. When I get to the station and start waiting for the bus, I like to see middle school students with short hair and ears. I like their beautiful broad and clear foreheads and lively and clear eyes.

I like reading letters. I like my brother and sister's letters. Those innocent sentences always make me see the small town burning with phoenix flowers in the south again with tears in my eyes. I can't forget that summer when he sent me a fern leaf from the highest mountain. In such a hot summer climate, I suddenly felt sweet and refreshing.

I also like reading books, especially at night. In books, I can't help liking those yellow thread-bound books. Holding it, I feel holding a beautiful tradition, and the plain paper contains a kind of classical beauty. It naturally occurred to me that several people have held it, seen it and probably passed it. The rise and fall of history and the iteration of things are so illusory that only the wisdom in the book lasts forever.

I like my friends, I like to visit them when I am surprised, and I especially like knocking on the wet door in the rain. When she came running and jumping to pick me up, the sun seemed to suddenly ignite after the rain.

I like life, and I deeply like being able to fill my heart with so many likes!

Those who have read their favorite articles have also read:

1. Essays on Care

2. Prose about a better life

3. About beautiful prose

4. Prose about great love in the world

5. Prose about feelings