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英语美文她的美貌

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宁波爱尚英语课程介绍,英语美文她的美貌, 当您想学习英语的时候可致电0574-87884520或到爱尚英语培训学校,我们的客服人员会记录下您的个人联络信息,并随后安排专业的课程顾问与您会面。 课程顾问会根据测试结果以及您的需求为您设计课程,给您介绍爱尚英语的教学体系,学校特色,课程收费。如果您觉得满意就签订合同,办理入学手续,并安排一名专门的辅导老师帮助您完成在爱尚英语的课程。
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她有一种与容貌无关的敏感和美丽。她是一个值得倾听的人,她的话很容易记在心里。
 
据说存在的本质是蒙着面纱的。文字的劳动,艺术的表达,人类思维中看似不间断的嗡嗡声,都有共同的需要,去弄明白到底是什么。接近并拥有存在的真理的希望可能是狂热的。在某些情况下,它甚至是致命的,如果快乐是一个人的真理,它的成就比生命本身更重要。然而,在另一些生活中,对真实的追求给予了生命。
 
我曾经发现在收集筐左笔记,关于我的颂歌,美丽的音符和关于作者日常的感想。写这些短文的人会对我的一些观点加以反思,还会引用一些诗人和神秘主义者,他或她曾经读爱。这些音符使我着迷。这是一个沉浸在寻找真理和美丽中的人。言语是珍贵的,言语是美丽的。我觉得这句话似乎很高兴被人发现,因为他们显然对这位匿名的作家很慷慨。现在这个人转而学习分享他们的秘密。美丽是如此闪耀。从这个意义上说,唯一存在的真理是自由的。
 
过了很长时间我才见到那本笔记的作者。
 
一个星期日的早上,有人告诉我办公室里有人在等我。年轻人回答rectory门说,这是“女人说她把所有的笔记。”我看见她的时候我大吃一惊,因为我马上就认出她从教堂,但不知道她这是谁写的。她坐在办公室的一张椅子上,双手交叉放在膝盖上。她低下了头,当她抬起头来看着我的时候,她几乎没有痛苦地笑了。她的脸被毁容了,外科手术使皮肤紧绷,笑或笑对她来说都很困难。她因切除了她脸上的赘生物而饱受痛苦。
 
那个星期日上午我们聊了一会儿,并约定那个星期晚些时候共进午餐。
 
结果我们吃了好几次午饭,她吃饭时总是戴着一顶帽子。我认为某种治疗方法使她的头发掉了很多。我们分享我们的生活。我告诉她我的学业和成长。她告诉我她为一家保险公司工作了多年。她从来没有提到过家庭,我也没有问过。
 
我们谈到了我们都读过的作家,很容易看出书是她最大的爱好。
 
我对她常常多年来她如何挣扎在社会的地方,一个令人难以置信的相貌,类的思想,财富和所有其他fineries的生活。她患了毁容,不能使她看起来漂亮。我知道她的情况深深地伤害了她。
 
如果她长得漂亮,她的生活会有所不同吗?很有可能。然而,她有一种与容貌无关的敏感和美丽。她是一个值得倾听的人,她的话很容易记在心里。她的话语来自一颗受伤但充满爱心的心,非常像所有的心,但她更需要意识到它,并与之一起生活并从中吸取教训。她有一种优美的美感。她生命中唯一的恐惧是失去朋友。
 
如果我们到达那里,我们大多数人需要多长时间才能达到人类成长的水平?我们变得如此消耗和减少,担心所有需要改进的事情,我们很容易忘记珍惜那些最后的东西。友谊是如此罕见,如此美好,只需要我们的关怀——甚至是偶尔写一点便条,或是在篮子里撒上一些美丽的词语的简单姿态,希望这样的美丽能被分享并被记住。
 
她生活的真相是想从表面看一看它究竟是什么东西。她发现了美和优雅的和他们的朋友,并向她展示了什么是真正的。


there were a sensitivity and a beauty to her that have nothing to do with looks. She was one to be listened to, whose words were so easy to take to heart.

It is said that the true nature of being is veiled. The labor of words, the expression of art, the seemingly ceaseless buzz that is human thought all have in common the need to get at what really is so. The hope to draw close to and possess the truth of being can be a feverish one. In some cases it can even be fatal, if pleasure is one’s truth and its attainment more important than life itself. In other lives, though, the search for what is truthful gives life.

I used to find notes left in the collection basket, beautiful notes about my homilies and about the writer’s thoughts on the daily scriptural readings. The person who penned the notes would add reflections to my thoughts and would always include some quotes from poets and mystics he or she had read and remembered and loved. The notes fascinated me. Here was someone immersed in a search for truth and beauty. Words had been treasured, words that were beautiful. And I felt as if the words somehow delighted in being discovered, for they were obviously very generous to the as yet anonymous writer of the notes. And now this person was in turn learning the secret of sharing them. Beauty so shines when given away. The only truth that exists is, in that sense, free.

It was a long time before I met the author of the notes.

One Sunday morning, I was told that someone was waiting for me in the office. The young person who answered the rectory door said that it was “the woman who said she left all the notes.“ When I saw her I was shocked, since I immediately recognized her from church but had no idea that it was she who wrote the notes. She was sitting in a chair in the office with her hands folded in her lap. Her head was bowed and when she raised it to look at me, she could barely smile without pain. Her face was disfigured, and the skin so tight from surgical procedures that smiling or laughing was very difficult for her. She had suffered terribly from treatment to remove the growths that had so marred her face.

We chatted for a while that Sunday morning and aGREed to meet for lunch later that week.

As it turned out we went to lunch several times, and she always wore a hat during the meal. I think that treatments of some sort had caused a lot of her hair to fall out. We shared things about our lives. I told her about my schooling and growing up. She told me that she had worked for years for an insurance company. She never mentioned family, and I did not ask.

We spoke of authors we both had read, and it was easy to tell that books are a GREat love of hers.

I have thought about her often over the years and how she struggled in a society that places an incredible premium on looks, class, wealth and all the other fineries of life. She suffered from a disfigurement that cannot be made to look attractive. I know that her condition hurt her deeply.

Would her life have been different had she been pretty? Chances are it would have. And yet there were a sensitivity and a beauty to her that had nothing to do with looks. She was one to be listened to, whose words were so easy to take to heart. Her words came from a wounded but loving heart, very much like all hearts, but she had more of a need to be aware of it, to live with it and learn from it. She possessed a fine-tuned sense of beauty. Her only fear in life was the loss of a friend.

How long does it take most of us to reach that level of human growth, if we ever get there? We get so consumed and diminished, worrying about all the things that need improving, we can easily forget to cherish those things that last. Friendship, so rare and so good, just needs our care--maybe even the simple gesture of writing a little note now and then, or the dropping of some beautiful words in a basket, in the hope that such beauty will be shared and taken to heart.

the truth of her life was a desire to see beyond the surface for a glimpse of what it is that matters. She found beauty and grace and they befriended her, and showed her what is real.


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宁波哪里有成人英语培训

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