关于爱英语作文锦集八篇
在日复一日的学习、工作或生活中,许多人都写过作文吧,写作文是培养人们的观察力、联想力、想象力、思考力和记忆力的重要手段。那么你知道一篇好的作文该怎么写吗?以下是小编收集整理的爱英语作文8篇,仅供参考,希望能够帮助到大家。
爱英语作文 篇1
Recently, I saw an interesting commercial ad. The celebrities asked people the question what would you do for love. I thought of this question for a while and my parents lingered on my mind. I wanted to help them share the housework, so they could be much easier. I also wanted to get progress on my study, so that my parents would be very happy.
最近,我看到一则有趣的商业广告。广告里面名人问了大家一个问题,你会为爱做什么?我想了下这个问题,父母的形象一直在我的'脑海中徘徊。我想帮他们分担家务,这样他们就可以轻松很多。我也想在学习上有所进步,这样我的父母就会很高兴。
爱英语作文 篇2
:Thanks to my parents
Our parents gave us lives,they gave us love.they talked with me to taught me language.they played with me,took care of me,gave me delicious meals,they gave me many classes to live.when I smiled,they were happier than me.when I cried,they were sadder than me.when I made mistakes,they were angery with me.They gave me much love,they gave me a warm family.Thanks to my parents.
爱英语作文 篇3
人们经常赞美母爱的无私。其实,父爱同样是伟大的。他们把爱深藏在内心,而不轻易显露。我的父亲就是这样的。有一次,我病了,妈妈又不在家,爸爸又当爸又当妈。他下班回家的第一件事就是给我做晚饭。他喂我吃饭的样子让我想起了善良温柔的妈妈。他的`眼中充满着爱怜和期待。彼时彼刻,我真的感受到了父爱。
father's love
mother's love wi people's praises for its selfle e . in fact, father's love is as great as that. they bury their love in the deep bottom of their hearts and will never show it. my father is of this kind. i remembered once i felt ill. mother wa 't at home at that moment. father acted as a father and as a mother as well. when he came home from work, he would cook di er for me first. the way he fed me made me think of my kind and tender mother. his eyes were full of love and expectation. i did feel a father's love at that time.
motherly love by its very nature is unconditional. mother loves the newborn infant because it is her child, not because the child has fulfilled any specific condition, or lived up to any specific expectation.unconditional love corresponds in one of 'the deepest longings, not only of the child, but of every human being; on the other hand, to be loved because of one's merit, because one deserves it, always leaves doubt: maybe i did not please the person whom i want to love me, maybe this or that--there is always a fear that love could disappear. furthermore, "deserved" love easily leaves a bitter feeling that one is not loved for oneself, that one is loved only because one pleases, that one is, in the last analysis, not loved at all but used. no wonder that we all cling to the longing for motherly love, as children and also as adults. the relationship to father is quite different. mother is the
home we come from, she is nature, soil, the ocean; father does not represent any such natural home. he has little connection with the child in the first years of his life, and his importance for the child in this early period cannot be compared with that of mother. but while father does not represent thenatural world, he represents the other pole of human existence; the world of thought, of man-made things, of law and order, of discipline, of travel and adventure. father is the one who teaches the child, who shows him the road into the world. fatherly love is conditional love. its principle is "1 love you because you fulfill my expectations, because you do your duty, because you are like me." in conditional fatherly love we find, as with unconditional motherly love, a negative and a positive aspect. the negative aspect is the very fact that fatherly love has to be deserved, that it can be lost if one does not do what is expected. the positive side is equally important. since his love is conditional, i can do something to acquire it, i can work for it; his love is not outside of my control as motherly love is.
爱英语作文 篇4
Everyone in our school likes sports. Every morning, after we get up, we do morning exercises. And after the second class, we do exercises again. We only have PE classes twice a week, but we do sports at five every afternoon. We have school basketball, football and volleyball teams, and our teams often have matches with teams from other schools. Besides ball games, some of us like running, jumping and swimming. Once a year we have a sports meeting.
我们学校的人都喜欢运动。每天早晨,我们起床后就做早操。第二节课后,我们再次做操。我们每周只有两次体育课,但是我们每天下午5点都会做运动。我们有校级篮球队、足球队和排球队,我们的`球队经常与来自其他学校的球队进行比赛。除了球类运动之外,我们有些人还喜欢跑步、跳远和游泳。我们一年一度举行运动会。
爱英语作文 篇5
deep beneath my heart resides my sincere gratitude to miss mo, the young lady who initiated me into the language of english. to her patient instruction, vivacious lecturing as well as her epressive story telling, i owe my love for english.
reciting tets was how i started learning english.quite a slow learner in language, i spent more time than the rest listening to the tapes and reading the tets. it is impossible for me not to remember the time when miss mo demonstrated to me the correct way of pronunciation for a thousand and one times after school. instead of a lonely boat lost on the sea of monotonous discourses, gradually i found myself a confident captain capable of steering my own way out of the intriguing ocean of word(s) upon which the great mansion of english literacy is built.
later, when we were able to manipulate the language a bit(more) freely, miss mo devised a variety of activities in which we were encouraged to participate.it is she who squeezed the limited class time for us students to sink ourselves into the fascinating world of english songs, ranging from mother goose, the carpenters to the front guard bsb.we were not supposed to merely enjoy the music, but also to interpret the lyrics in our own manner and to epress our feelings respectively. for the first time, i sensed the underlying principle both languages share and share alike; namely, the subtle relationship they bear with the culture.
on the third year of my learning english, we are granted a ten minute free show before each class, which served as "a stage to ehibit our talent".some of us gave speeches; some put on mini plays and the others still, organized debates. miss mo neyer interfere beforehand, rather, she took detailed notes and gave comments and advice in face-to-face conversations after class. i bet no one else but she knew eactly how much sacrifice had been made to boost our interest and to summon our intelligence in mastering english, yet she was the last person in the world to speak a word of it.
during the past four years since miss mo was appointed teacher of another class when i was a senior one, i went through fire and water to struggle my way out into fudan and the satisfying subject i am now majoring in. passion for english faded due to all these eperiences, however, the cadence of miss mo's enduring encouragement and the rhythm of our reciting the lessons echoes.
爱英语作文 篇6
Only in the baby from crying wah-wah, that we invoke the first words whispered parents learn to walk the first time to walk small foot staggering along. The first time carrying a bag to school, the first test scores back, the first from their parents ... ... maybe you've never noted this many times in the first, in the growth of this long road to the parents how much to pay into the How much love. Every time you smile, every success, and even failed every time, every mistake in the minds of parents will never forget, to accompany you around, give you the support of silence ... ...
We come from? To hear this issue, I am sure you will say that parents bring us up in the world. Yes ah, the day thirteen years ago, our parents with tears, smiles and happiness to greet our arrival. We came to the world from the moment that many parents have a heavy work - to take care of us. Although this is a heavy burden, but the baby's "Wah-Wah" bring to the nursery, we grow up, parents spend much of the effort and sweat, how many days and nights weaving, parents have no complaints.
Small, I always love their parents as a matter of course, because I do not understand the hard work their parents do not know. Now, I grew up, and I know with a heart of Thanksgiving to appreciate their parents, should take care, the responsibility of your parents.
But how many people is to give top priority to the parents then? Some people always complain about their parents to do Oh, no, that does not, the behavior of parents and practices of selectivity, to accuse, or even directly contradict with their parents! Some people do not know their own physical health status of parents, parents do not remember their birthday, and some even their own parents in the work units which do not know, to think of it, parents pay so much for our energy and efforts ah!
When we are confronted with difficulties, to devote all of the people to help us parents.
When we are wronged, to be patient to listen to our cry of the people, are the parents.
When we make mistakes, we can not hesitate to forgive us, and parents.
When we succeed, would like for us to celebrate, to share with us the joy of the parents.
Now we are far in the field study, we remain concerned about their parents.
Life is not imagined as the perfect parents for their hard that we can not understand, although we can not live with their parents to share the hardships of a difficult start, but we can be less in their daily lives for their parents to worry about. When parents fall ill, we should be taking responsibility, taking care of their parents? To know that even if an interest in words, even a good hot bowl of instant noodles themselves, their parents, who will comfort the hearts of our anxiety in every possible way.
Thanksgiving heart of life is better, life is like a piece of white paper, with the heart of Thanksgiving, this paper will be pink. Thanksgiving embrace of life, the background paper is also pink, and will have a better life.
If today is my last day of life, we are the first thing to do is to return education to take care of me my parents! "The water-en, when the springs of newspaper." Parents not to mention the efforts we have not just "drop", but a vast ocean.
Thanksgiving, although it is an act of the verb, but it needs more action, more importantly, needs to be done in good faith. To put it simply, Thanksgiving is gratitude, gratitude from the heart.
爱英语作文 篇7
The Best Kind of Love
i’m young again!” she shouts euberantly.as my friend raves on about her new love, i’ve taken a good look at my old one. my husband of almost 20 years, scott, has gained 15 pounds. once a marathon runner, he now runs only down hospital halls. his hairline is receding and his body shows the signs of long working hours and too many candy bars. yet he can still give me a certain look across a restaurant table and i want to ask for the check and head home.
when my friend asked me “what will make this love last?” i ran through all the obvious reasons: commitment, shared interests, unselfishness, physical attraction, communication. yet there’s more. we still have fun. spontaneous good times. yesterday, after slipping the rubber band off the rolled up newspaper, scott flipped it playfully at me: this led to an all-out war. last saturday at the grocery, we split the list and raced each other to see who could make it to the checkout first. even washing dishes can be a blast. we enjoy simply being together.and there are surprises. one time i came home to find a note on the front door that led me to another note, then another, until i reached the walk-in closet. i opened the door to find scott holding a “pot of gold” (my cooking kettle) and the “treasure” of a gift package. sometimes i leave him notes on the mirror and little presents under his pillow.there is understanding. i understand why he must play basketball with the guys. and he understands why, once a year, i must get away from the house, the kids -and even him -to meet my sisters for a few days of nonstop talking and laughing.
there is sharing. not only do we share household worries and parental burdens - we also share ideas. scott came home from a convention last month and presented me with a thick historical novel. though he prefers thrillers and science fiction, he had read the novel on the plane. he touched my heart when he eplained it was because he wanted to be able to echange ideas about the book after i’d read it.
there is forgiveness. when i’m embarrasssingly loud and crazy at parties, scott forgives me. when he confessed losing some of our savings in the stock market, i gave him a hug and said, “it’s okay. it’s only money.”there is sensitivity. last week he walked through the door with that look that tells me it’s been a tough day. after he spent some time with the kids, i asked him what happened. he told me about a 60-year-old woman who’d had a stroke. he wept as he recalled the woman’s husband standing beside her bed, caressing her hand. how was he going to tell this husband of 40 years that his wife would probably never recover? i shed a few tears myself. because of the medical crisis. because there were still people who have been married 40 years. because my husband is still moved and concerned after years of hospital rooms and dying patients.
there is faith. last tuesday a friend came over and confessed her fear that her husband is losing his courageous battle with cancer. on wednesday i went to lunch with a friend who is struggling to reshape her life after divorce. on thursday a neighbor called to talk about the frightening effects of alzheimer’s disease on her father-in-law’s personality. on friday a childhood friend called long-distance to tell me her father had died. i hung up the phone and thought, this is too much heartache for one week. through my tears, as i went out to run some errands, i noticed the boisterous orange blossoms of the gladiolus outside my window. i heard the delighted laughter of my son and his friend as they played. i caught sight of a wedding party emerging from a neighbor’s house. the bride, dressed in satin and lace, tossed her bouquet to her cheering friends. that night, i told my husband about these events. we helped each other acknowledge the cycles of life and that the joys counter the sorrows. it was enough to keep us going.finally, there is knowing. i know scott will throw his laundry just shy of the hamper every night; he’ll be late to most appointments and eat the last chocolate in the bo. he knows that i sleep with a pillow over my head; i’ll lock us out of the house at a regular basis, and i will also eat the last chocolate.
i guess our love lasts because it is comfortable. no, the sky is not bluer: it’s just a familiar hue. we don’t feel particularly young: we’ve eperienced too much that has contributed to our growth and wisdom, taking its toll on our bodies, and created our memories.i hope we’ve got what it takes to make our love last. as a bride, i had scott’s wedding band engraved with robert browning’s line “grow old along with me!” we’re following those instructions.
“if anything is real, the heart will make it plain.”
爱英语作文 篇8
i have a friend who is falling in love. she honestly claims the sky is bluer. mozart moves her to tears. she has lost 15 pounds and looks like a cover girl.
"i’m young again!” she shouts euberantly.
as my friend raves on about her new love, i’ve taken a good look at my old one. my husband of almost 20 years, scott, has gained 15 pounds. once a marathon runner, he now runs only down hospital halls. his hairline is receding and his body shows the signs of long working hours and too many candy bars. yet he can still give me a certain look across a restaurant table and i want to ask for the check and head home.
when my friend asked me “what will make this love last?” i ran through all the obvious reasons: commitment, shared interests, unselfishness, physical attraction, communication. yet there’s more. we still have fun. spontaneous good times. yesterday, after slipping the rubber band off the rolled up newspaper, scott flipped it playfully at me: this led to an all-out war. last saturday at the grocery, we split the list and raced each other to see who could make it to the checkout first. even washing dishes can be a blast. we enjoy simply being together.and there are surprises. one time i came home to find a note on the front door that led me to another note, then another, until i reached the walk-in closet. i opened the door to find scott holding a “pot of gold” (my cooking kettle) and the “treasure” of a gift package. sometimes i leave him notes on the mirror and little presents under his pillow.there is understanding. i understand why he must play basketball with the guys. and he understands why, once a year, i must get away from the house, the kids -and even him -to meet my sisters for a few days of nonstop talking and laughing.
there is sharing. not only do we share household worries and parental burdens - we also share ideas. scott came home from a convention last month and presented me with a thick historical novel. though he prefers thrillers and science fiction, he had read the novel on the plane. he touched my heart when he eplained it was because he wanted to be able to echange ideas about the book after i’d read it.
there is forgiveness. when i’m embarrasssingly loud and crazy at parties, scott forgives me. when he confessed losing some of our savings in the stock market, i gave him a hug and said, “it’s okay. it’s only money.”there is sensitivity. last week he walked through the door with that look that tells me it’s been a tough day. after he spent some time with the kids, i asked him what happened. he told me about a 60-year-old woman who’d had a stroke. he wept as he recalled the woman’s husband standing beside her bed, caressing her hand. how was he going to tell this husband of 40 years that his wife would probably never recover? i shed a few tears myself. because of the medical crisis. because there were still people who have been married 40 years. because my husband is still moved and concerned after years of hospital rooms and dying patients.
there is faith. last tuesday a friend came over and confessed her fear that her husband is losing his courageous battle with cancer. on wednesday i went to lunch with a friend who is struggling to reshape her life after divorce. on thursday a neighbor called to talk about the frightening effects of alzheimer’s disease on her father-in-law’s personality. on friday a childhood friend called long-distance to tell me her father had died. i hung up the phone and thought, this is too much heartache for one week. through my tears, as i went out to run some errands, i noticed the boisterous orange blossoms of the gladiolus outside my window. i heard the delighted laughter of my son and his friend as they played. i caught sight of a wedding party emerging from a neighbor’s house. the bride, dressed in satin and lace, tossed her bouquet to her cheering friends. that night, i told my husband about these events. we helped each other acknowledge the cycles of life and that the joys counter the sorrows. it was enough to keep us going.finally, there is knowing. i know scott will throw his laundry just shy of the hamper every night; he’ll be late to most appointments and eat the last chocolate in the bo. he knows that i sleep with a pillow over my head; i’ll lock us out of the house at a regular basis, and i will also eat the last chocolate.i guess our love lasts because it is comfortable. no, the sky is not bluer: it’s just a familiar hue. we don’t feel particularly young: we’ve eperienced too much that has contributed to our growth and wisdom, taking its toll on our bodies, and created our memories.
i hope we’ve got what it takes to make our love last. as a bride, i had scott’s wedding band engraved with robert browning’s line “grow old along with me!” we’re following those instructions.
“if anything is real, the heart will make it plain.”
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