英语即兴演讲

　　To make friends ,adding a friend equals addng a way ,open your heart ,devote yoursef,let friendship make your world colourful.

英语即兴演讲 篇9

　　Who arrived at the place all belong to yesterday. Even if the mountains green again the water to show that water again gentleness. Too deep linger became a fetters trip over not only have two feet and in the future.

　　How can you don't like to start? It is a pity that haven't seen on lofty mountains; See the lofty mountains and have not seen the sea vast is still a pity; See the vastness of the sea have never seen a vast desert still sad; See the vast desert have not seen the mystery of forest or regret. There are a lot of scenery in the world I have not old.

　　I know dashan is rocky the sea waves the desert sand forest have a beast of prey. Even so I still like it.

　　Break the peace of life is another scene. Glad I haven't old. What about even old not words called hale and hearty?

　　So I would also like to learn from the mountain I also want to learn from the brave I also want to learn from the desert I also want to learn from the forest alert. I want to learn to taste a colorful life.

　　How far one can go? This is not to ask two feet but ask ambition; Man can climb much higher? This thing is not to ask his hands but asked will. So I want to use the youth blood raise a lofty goals for yourself. Is not only to win a glorious but also in pursuit of a kind of state. Goals is glorious goal not life will be because of the wind and rain all the way walk becomes rich and colorful; In my opinion this is not to life.

英语即兴演讲 篇10

　　Youth is not a time of life, it is a state of mind ; it is not rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees, it is a matter of the emotions : it is thefreshness ; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life .

　　Youth means a temperamental predominance of courage over timidity of theappetite , for adventure over the love of ease. This often exists in a man of 60more than a boy of 20 . Nobody grows old merely by a number of years . We growold by deserting our ideals.

　　Years wrinkle the skin , but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul .Worry , fear , self �Cdistrust bows the heart and turns the spirit back to dust.

　　Whether 60 of 16 , there is in every human being ‘s heart the lure ofwonders, the unfailing childlike appetite of what’s next and the joy of the gameof living . In the center of your heart and my heart there’s a wireless station: so longas it receives messages of beauty , hope ,cheer, courag

　　When I was fifteen, I announced to my English class that I was going towrite and illustrate my own books. Half the students sneered, the rest nearlyfell out of their chairs laughing. “Don’t be silly, only geniuses can becomewriters,” the English teacher said smugly, “And you are getting a D thissemester.” I was so humiliated I burst into tears.

　　That night I wrote a short sad poem about broken dreams and mailed it tothe Capri’s Weekly newspaper. To my astonishment, they published it and sent metwo dollars. I was a published and paid writer. I showed my teacher and fellowstudents. They laughed. “Just plain dumb luck,” the teacher said. I tastedsuccess. I’d sold the first thing I’d ever written. That was more than any ofthem had done and if it was just dumb luck, that was fine with me.

　　During the next two years I sold dozens of poems, letters, jokes andrecipes. By the time I graduated from high school, with a C minus average, I hadscrapbooks filled with my published work. I never mentioned my writing to myteachers, friends or my family again. They were dream killers and if people mustchoose between their friends and their dreams, they must always choose theirdreams.

　　I had four children at the time, and the oldest was only four. While thechildren napped, I typed on my ancient typewriter. I wrote what I felt. It tooknine months, just like a baby. I chose a publisher at random and put themanuscript in an empty Pampers diapers package, the only box I could find. I’dnever heard of manuscript boxes. The letter I enclosed read, “I wrote this bookmyself, I hope you like it. I also do the illustrations. Chapter six and twelveare my favourites. Thank you.” I tied a string around the diaper box and mailedit without a self addressed stamped envelope and without making a copy of themanuscript.

　　A month later I received a contract, an advance on royalties, and a requestto start working on another book. Crying Wind, the title of my book, became abest seller, was translated into fifteen languages and Braille and soldworldwide. I appeared on TV talk shows during the day and changed diapers atnight. I traveled from New York to California and Canada on promotional tours.My first book also became required reading in native American schools inCanada.