英語高考作文精選
英語高考作文精選1
an interesting cartoon, on a car's rear-window, reminds the owner to clean his dirty car in china's southwest chongqing municipality on thursday, april 5, 20xx. a cute pig is doing the wiping, with a chinese sentence "it's so dirty" on the picture. [photo: chongqing economic times]
warmhearted people can help each other sometimes, as well as making them smile.
a chongqing resident found his car furnished with a lovely drawing after parking it on the roadside for a while. someone drew a cartoon pig wiping the window, and wrote a chinese sentence saying "it's so dirty" on the car's rear-window.
many people circled around the car and looked at the cartoon with joy.
the owner said his car was so dirty because he had been back to the countryside on tomb-sweeping day, thursday.
英語高考作文精選2
my teammates on the united states disabled ski team used to tease me about the size of my chest, joking that my greatest handicap wasn't my missing leg but my missing cleavage. little did they know how true that would become. this past year, i found out that for the second time in my life i had cancer, this time in both breasts. i had bilateral mastectomies.
when i heard i'd need the surgery, i didn't think it would be a big deal. i even told my friends playfully, "i'll keep you abreast of the situation." after all, i had lost my leg to my first go-round with cancer at age 12, then gone on to become a world champion ski racer. all of us on the disabled ski team were missing one set of body parts or another.i saw that a man in a wheelchair can be utterly sexy. that a woman who has no hands can appear not to be missing anything. that wholeness has nothing to do with missing parts and everything to do with spirit. yet although i knew this, i was surprised to discover how difficult it was to adjust to my new scars.when they brought me back to consciousness after the surgery, i started to sob and hyperventilate.
suddenly i found that i didn't want to face the loss of more of my body. i didn't want chemotherapy again. i didn't want to be brave and tough and put on a perpetual smiling face. i didn't ever want to wake up again. my breathing grew so shaky that the anesthesiologist gave me oxygen and then, thankfully, put me back to sleep. when i was doing hill sprints to prepare for my ski racing - my heart and lungs and leg muscles all on fire - i'd often be hit by the sensation that there were no resources left inside me with which to keep going.then i'd think about the races ahead - my dream of pushing my potential as far as it could go, the satisfaction of breaking through my own barriers - and that would get me through the sprints. the same tenacity that served me so well in ski racing helped me survive my second bout with cancer.
take my face - without makeup, it was a cute young boy's face. my shoulder muscles, arms and hands were powerful and muscular from the crutches. i had no breasts; instead, there were two prominent scars on my chest. i had a sexy flat stomach, a bubble butt and a well-developed thigh from years of ski racing. my right leg ended in another long scar just above the knee.i discovered that i liked my androgynous body.
it fit my personality - my aggressive male side that loves getting dressed in a helmet, arm guards and shin protectors to do battle with the slalom gates, and my gentle female side that longs to have children one day and wants to dress up in a beautiful silk dress, go out to dinner with a lover and then lie back and be slowly undressed by him.i found that the scars on my chest and my leg were a big deal. they were my marks of life. all of us are scarred by life; it's just that some of those scars show more clearly than others. our scars do matter. they tell us that we have lived, that we haven't hidden from life. when we see our scars plainly, we can find in them, as i did that day, our own unique beauty.
the next time i went to the pool i showered naked.
英語高考作文精選3
i've opened the curtain of my east window here above the computer, and i sit now in a holy theater before a sky-blue stage. a little cloud above the neighbor's trees resembles jimmy durante's nose for a while, then becomes amorphous as it slips on north. other clouds follow, big and little and tiny on their march toward whereness. wisps of them lead or droop because there must always be leading and drooping.
the trees seem to laugh at the clouds while yet reaching for them with swaying branches. trees must think that they are real, rooted, somebody, and that perhaps the clouds are only tickled water which sometimes blocks their sun. but trees are clouds, too, of green leaves-clouds that only move a little. trees grow and change and dissipate like their airborne cousins.and what am i but a cloud of thoughts and feelings and aspirations? don't i put out tentative mists here and there? don't i occasionally appear to other people as a ridiculous shape of thoughts without my intending to? don't i drift toward the north when i feel the breezes of love and the warmth of compassion?
if clouds are beings, and beings are clouds, are we not all well advised to drift, to feel the wind tucking us in here and plucking us out there? are we such rock-hard bodily lumps as we imagine?drift, let me. sing to the sky, will i. one in many, are we. let us breathe the breeze and find therein our roots in the spirit.
i close the curtain now, feeling broader, fresher. the act is over. applause is sweeping through the trees.
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