英语作文

学英语作文

时间:2023-09-17 13:20:48 英语作文 我要投稿

学英语作文精华8篇

  在学习、工作或生活中,大家都尝试过写作文吧,作文是从内部言语向外部言语的过渡,即从经过压缩的简要的、自己能明白的语言,向开展的、具有规范语法结构的、能为他人所理解的外部语言形式的转化。还是对作文一筹莫展吗?以下是小编为大家整理的学英语作文8篇,希望对大家有所帮助。

学英语作文精华8篇

学英语作文 篇1

  We often say boys like to play and move and sport than the girls. But I have one good friend, she moves up and down, left and right all day like a boy. Teachers say that she is really a false boy in our class .She is short and thin, she has got short straight black hair, a high nose ,big eyes of spirit , she is my best friend.

  Girls always listens to the teacher quietly in the class, but what does she often do? She often sits on the chair with one leg under her bottom and often stand up .She often walks around the teacher when she is in high spirit. The teacher often says to her: "We all have class quietly and silently expect you, Why do you just feel uneasy? You are really too active”. But it is very strange, she is the top student in our class.

  Though she is a girl! She has the boy's hobbies: playing basketball, playing football , playing table tennis,etc. And she does them well. She and I played Shooting the Basketball game last year, I shot the ball three times in succession, I failed, I only stocked the hoop once, She shot three ball in succession, she all hit.

  Look, This is she, a girl out of the common, a girl like a boy, a girl called “A Tommy boy”, an active girl.

学英语作文 篇2

  There are four people in my family, my father, my mother, my sister and I. My father is businessman, he is very busy, he goes to work early and comes home from work late. My mother is a housewife, she looks after all the household duties, she keeps the house tidy. My father and my mother are lovely couple, I love them so much.

  【参考译文】

  我家有四口人,我爸爸,妈妈,姐姐和I.。我爸爸是商人,他很忙,他上班很早,下班回家很晚。我的.母亲是一个家庭主妇,她照顾所有的家务,她保持房子整洁。我的爸爸和妈妈是可爱的一对,我非常爱他们。

学英语作文 篇3

  Mid-autumn festival is one of the most important day for Chinese people. The families ill get together and enjoy the reunion. Mooncake is the typical food. People ill have it hile appreciate the full moon.

  At this time, the old generation like to tell the story of Hou Yi and his ife, hich is the ing of this festival. Hou Yi is a man ith great strength. He shot don nine suns and left only one. hile his ife as so curious to taste the pill hich Hou Yi told her to keep it for him. Then his ife flied to the moon and left Hou Yi forever.

  It is said that the ife lives in the moon. So hen e look at moon, she is atching us.

学英语作文 篇4

  i am only a philosopher, and there is only one thing that a philosopher can be relied on to do. you know that the function of statistics has been ingeniously described as being the refutation of other statistics. well, a philosopher can always contradict other philosophers. in ancient times philosophers defined man as the rational animal; and philosophers since then have always found much more to say about the rational than about the animal part of the definition. but looked at candidly, reason bears about the same proportion to the rest of human nature that we in this hall bear to the rest of america, europe, asia, africa, and polynesia. reason is one of the very feeblest of natures forces, if you take it at any one spot and moment. it is only in the very long run that its effects become perceptible. reason assumes to settle things by weighing them against one another without prejudice, partiality, or ecitement; but what affairs in the concrete are settled by is and always will be just prejudices, partialities, cupidities, and ecitements. appealing to reason as we do, we are in a sort of a forlorn hope situation, like a small sand-bank in the midst of a hungry sea ready to wash it out of eistence. but sand-banks grow when the conditions favor; and weak as reason is, it has the unique advantage over its antagonists that its activity never lets up and that it presses always in one direction, while mens prejudices vary, their passions ebb and flow, and their ecitements are intermittent. our sand-bank, i absolutely believe, is bound to grow, -- bit by bit it will get dyked and breakwatered. but sitting as we do in this warm room, with music and lights and the flowing bowl and smiling faces, it is easy to get too sanguine about our task, and since i am called to speak, i feel as if it might not be out of place to say a word about the strength of our enemy.

  our permanent enemy is the noted bellicosity of human nature. man, biologically considered, and whatever else he may be in the bargain, is simply the most formidable of all beasts of prey, and, indeed, the only one that preys systematically on its own species. we are once for all adapted to the military status. a millennium of peace would not breed the fighting disposition out of our bone and marrow, and a function so ingrained and vital will never consent to die without resistance, and will always find impassioned apologists and idealizers.

  not only are men born to be soldiers, but non-combatants by trade and nature, historians in their studies, and clergymen in their pulpits, have been wars idealizers. they have talked of war as of gods court of justice. and, indeed, if we think how many things beside the frontiers of states the wars of history have decided, we must feel some respectful awe, in spite of all the horrors. our actual civilization, good and bad alike, has had past war for its determining condition. great-mindedness among the tribes of men has always meant the will to prevail, and all the more so if prevailing included slaughtering and being slaughtered. rome, paris, england, brandenburg, piedmont, -- soon, let us hope, japan, -- along with their arms have made their traits of character and habits of thought prevail among their conquered neighbors. the blessings we actually enjoy, such as they are, have grown up in the shadow of the wars of antiquity. the various ideals were backed by fighting wills, and where neither would give way, the god of battles had to be the arbiter. a shallow view, this, truly; for who can say what might have prevailed if man had ever been a reasoning and not a fighting animal? like dead men, dead causes tell no tales, and the ideals that went under in the past, along with all the tribes that represented them, find to-day no recorder, no eplainer, no defender.

  but apart from theoretic defenders, and apart from every soldierly individual straining at the leash, and clamoring for opportunity, war has an omnipotent support in the form of our imagination. man lives by habits, indeed, but what he lives for is thrills and ecitements. the only relief from habits tediousness is periodical ecitement. from time immemorial wars have been, especially for non-combatants, the supremely thrilling ecitement. heavy and dragging at its end, at its outset every war means an eplosion of imaginative energy. the dams of routine burst, and boundless prospects open. the remotest spectators share the fascination. with that awful struggle now in progress on the confines of the world, there is not a man in this room, i suppose, who doesnt buy both an evening and a morning paper, and first of all pounce on the war column.

  a deadly listlessness would come over most mens imagination of the future if they could seriously be brought to believe that never again in saecula saeculorum would a war trouble human history. in such a stagnant summer afternoon of a world, where would be the zest or interest ?

  this is the constitution of human nature which we have to work against. the plain truth is that people want war. they want it anyhow; for itself; and apart from each and every possible consequence. it is the final bouquet of lifes fireworks. the born soldiers want it hot and actual. the non-combatants want it in the background, and always as an open possibility, to feed imagination on and keep ecitement going. its clerical and historical defenders fool themselves when they talk as they do about it. what moves them is not the blessings it has won for us, but a vague religious ealtation. war, they feel, is human nature at its uttermost. we are here to do our uttermost. it is a sacrament. society would rot, they think, without the mystical blood-payment.

  we do ill, i fancy, to talk much of universal peace or of a general disarmament. we must go in for preventive medicine not for radical cure. we must cheat our foe, politically circumvent his action, not try to change his nature. in one respect war is like love, though in no other. both leave us intervals of rest; and in the intervals life goes on perfectly well without them, though the imagination still dallies with their possibility. equally insane when once aroused and under headway, whether they shall be aroused or not depends on accidental circumstances. how are old maids and old bachelors made? not by deliberate vows of celibacy, but by sliding on from year to year with no sufficient matrimonial provocation. so of the nations with their wars. let the general possibility of war be left open, in heavens name, for the imagination to dally with. let the soldiers dream of killing, as the old maids dream of marrying. but organize in every conceivable way the practical machinery for making each successive chance of war abortive. put peace-men in power; educate the editors and statesmen to responsibility; -- how beautifully did their trained responsibility in england make the venezuela incident abortive! seize every pretet, however small, for arbitration methods, and multiply the precedents; foster rival ecitements and invent new outlets for heroic energy; and from one generation to another, the chances are that irritations will grow less acute and states of strain less dangerous among the nations. armies and navies will continue, of course, and will fire the minds of populations with their potentialities of greatness. but their officers will find that somehow or other, with no deliberate intention on any ones part, each successive incident has managed to evaporate and to lead nowhere, and that the thought of what might have been remains their only consolation.

  the last weak runnings of the war spirit will be punitive epeditions. a country that turns its arms only against uncivilized foes is, i think, wrongly taunted as degenerate. of course it has ceased to be heroic in the old grand style. but i verily believe that this is because it now sees something better. it has a conscience. it knows that between civilized countries a war is a crime against civilization. it will still perpetrate peccadillos, to be sure. but it is afraid, afraid in the good sense of the word, to engage in absolute crimes against civilization.

学英语作文 篇5

  About a decade ago, university students could find satisfactory and enviable jobs after their graduation. But now, things are different. Todays university students usually experience great difficulties finding satisfactory jobs. They often complain that graduation means joblessness. What is the cause of this phenomenon?

  Firstly, with the enrollment extension of universities, the supply of university graduates exceeds social demand. This results in a decreased chance for any individual graduate to find a job. Secondly, university students tend to spend most of their time at school in studying academic subjects and lack relevant job experience. Thirdly, some students dont study hard during the college. After four years of university life, they havent gained the knowledge those fairly good jobs or positions require.

学英语作文 篇6

  day had broken cold and gray, eceedingly cold and gray, when the man turned aside from the main yukon trail and climbed the high earth-bank, where a dim and little traveled trail led eastward through the fat spruce timberland。 it was a steep bank, and he paused for breath at the top, ecusing the act to himself by looking at his watch。 it was nine oclock。 there was no sun nor hint of sun, though there was not a cloud in the sky。 it was a clear day, and yet there seemed an intangible pall over the face of things, a subtle gloom that made the day dark, and that was due to the absence of sun。 this fact did not worry the man。 he was used to the lack of sun。 it had been days since he had seen the sun, and he knew that a few more-days must pass before that cheerful orb, due south, would just peep above the sky-line and dip immediately from view。

  the man flung a look back along the way he had come。 the yukon lay a mile wide and hidden under three feet of ice。 on top of this ice were as many feet of snow。 it was all pure white, rolling in gentle, undulations where the ice jams of the freeze-up had formed。 north and south, as far as his eye could see, it was unbroken white, save for a dark hairline that curved and twisted from around the spruce-covered island to the south, and that curved and twisted away into the north, where it disappeared behind another spruce-covered island。 this dark hair-line was the trail--the main trail--that led south five hundred miles to the chilcoot pass, dyea, and salt water; and that led north seventy miles to dawson, and still on to the north a thousand miles to nulato, and finally to st。 michael on bering sea, a thousand miles and half a thousand more。

  but all this--the mysterious, far-reaching hair-line trail。 the absence of sun from the sky, the tremendous cold, and the strangeness and weirdness of it all--made no impression on the man。 it was not because he was long used to it。 he was a newcomer! in the land, a chechaquo, and this was his first winter。 the trouble with him was that he was without imagination。 he was quick and alert in the things of life, but only in the things, and not in the significances。 fifty degrees below zero meant eighty-odd degrees of frost。 such fact impressed him as being cold and uncomfortable, and that was all。 it did not lead him to meditate upon his frailty as a creature of temperature, and upon mans frailty in general, able only to live within certain narrow limits of heat and cold; and from there on it did not lead him to the conjectural field of immortality and mans place in the universe。 fifty degrees below zero stood forte bite of frost that hurt and that must be guarded against by the use of mittens, ear-flaps, warm moccasins, and thick socks。 fifty degrees below zero was to him just precisely fifty degrees below zero。 that there should be anything more to it than that was a thought that never entered his head。

  as he turned to go on, he spat speculatively。 there was a sharp, eplosive crackle that startled him。 he spat again。 and again, in the air, before it could fall to the snow, the spittle crackled。 he knew that at fifty below spittle crackled on the snow, but this spittle had crackled in the air。 undoubtedly it was colder than fifty below--how much colder he did not know。 but the temperature did not matter。 he was bound for the old claim on the left fork of henderson creek, where the boys were already。 they had come over across the divide from the indian creek country, while he had come the roundabout way to take; a look at the possibilities of getting out logs in the spring from the islands in the yukon。 he would be in to camp by si oclock; a bit after dark, it was true, but the boys would be there, a fire would be going, and a hot supper would be ready。 as for lunch, he pressed his hand against the protruding bundle under his jacket。 it was also under his shirt, wrapped up in a handkerchief and lying against the naked skin。 it was the only way to keep the biscuits from freezing。 he smiled agreeably to himself as he thought of those biscuits, each cut open and sopped in bacon grease, and each enclosing a generous slice of fried bacon。

  he plunged in among the big spruce trees。 the trail was faint。 a foot of snow had fallen since the last sled had passed over, and he was glad he was without a sled, traveling light。 in fact, he carried nothing but the lunch wrapped in the handkerchief。 he was surprised, however, at the cold。 it certainly was cold, he concluded as he rubbed his numb nose and cheek-bones with his mittened hand。 he was a warm-whiskered man, but the hair on his face did not protect the high cheek-bones and the eager nose that thrust itself aggressively into the frosty air。

  at the mans heels trotted a dog, a big native husky, the proper wolfdog, gray-coated and without any visible or temperamental difference from its brother, the wild wolf。 the animal was depressed by the tremendous cold。 it knew that it was no time for traveling。 its instinct told it a truer tale than was told to the man by the mans judgment。 in reality, it was not merely colder than fifty below zero; it was colder than sity below, than seventy below。 it was seventy-five below zero。 since the freezing point is thirty-two above zero, it meant that one hundred and seven degrees of frost obtained。 the dog did not know anything about thermometers。 possibly in its brain there was no sharp consciousness of a condition of very cold such as was in the mans brain。 but the brute had its instinct。 it eperienced a vague but menacing apprehension that subdued it and made it slink along at the mans heels, and that made it question eagerly every unwonted movement of the man as if epecting him to go into camp or to seek shelter somewhere and build a fire。 the dog had learned fire, and it wanted fire, or else to burrow under the snow and cuddle its warmth away from the air。

  the frozen moisture of its breathing had settled on its fur in a fine powder of frost, and especially were its jowls, muzzle, and eyelashes whitened by its crystalled breath。 the mans red beard and mustache were likewise frosted, but more solidly, the deposit taking the form of ice and increasing with every warm, moist breath he ehaled。 also, the man was chewing tobacco, and the muzzle of ice held his lips so rigidly that he was unable to clear his chin when he epelled the juice。 the result was that a crystal beard of the color and solidity of amber was increasing its length on his chin。 if he fell down it would shatter itself, like glass, into brittle fragments。 but he did not mind the appendage。 it was the penalty all tobacco-chewers paid in that country, and he had been out before in two cold snaps。 they had not been so cold as this, he knew, but by the spirit thermometer at sity mile he knew they had been registered at fifty below and at fifty-five。

  he held on through the level stretch of woods for several miles, crossed a wide flat of rigger-heads, and dropped down a bank to the frozen bed of a small stream。 this was henderson creek, and he knew he was ten miles from the forks。 he looked at his watch。 it was ten oclock。 he was making four miles an hour, and he calculated that he would arrive at the forks at half-past twelve。 he decided to celebrate that event by eating his lunch there。

  the dog dropped in again at his heels, with a tail drooping discouragement, as the man swung along the creek-bed。 the furrow of the old sled-trail was plainly visible, but a dozen inches of snow covered the marks of the last runners。 in a month no man had come up or down that silent creek。 the man held steadily on。 he was not much given to thinking, and just then particularly he had nothing to think about save that he would eat lunch at-the forks and that at si oclock he would be in camp with the boys。 there was nobody to talk to; and, had there been, speech would have been impossible because of the ice-muzzle on his mouth。 so he continued monotonously to chew tobac

学英语作文 篇7

  My name is Liu Ying, 15 years old this year. I'm going to introduce a person I love most, her name is rice, she is 16 years old this year, is my neighbour. She likes to read some interesting books and TV, she likes to go camping in the wild, this is my favorite place, because I also like to do these things. She is very helpful, and sometimes when I'm not at home, she often comes to my house to take care of my grandfather. We all like her very much. Do you want to know her? Her QQ number is 1735731831. The phone number is 3344-520.

  翻译:我叫流萤,今年15岁。接下来我要介绍我最喜欢的一个人,她的名字叫米可,她今年16岁,是我的邻居。她喜欢看一些有意义的书籍和电视,她很喜欢去野外露营,这是我最喜欢她的地方,因为我也喜欢干这些事。她很乐于助人,有时候我不在家时,她经常到我家来照护我的`爷爷。我们全家人都很喜欢她。你们要认识她吗?她的QQ号码是1735731831。电话号码是3344-520。

学英语作文 篇8

  第一篇是外语系写的

  第二篇是我按你的要求写得简单点的.。

  要差一点,就叫他自己组合,改改单词,用他懂的单词改。

  Dear Mary ,

  In this letter I would like to convey my heartfelt thanks to you for your books about band four to me. The book is very useful especially for my reading and writing .I want to buy this book for a long time. Your generous help and tender care made me feel warmly.

  I will try my best to prepare the text for bend four. I have made a plan to finish reading this book before the exam coming. As the old saying goes, where there is a will there is a way. please don’t worry about me. I believe I can pass the exam. I will tell you the good news at the first time!

  I feel obliged to thank you once more.

  sincerely yours, Tom

  Dear Mary,

  I would like to thank you for your warm-heart help last term. I couldn't have passed the CET Band 4, if not had received your reference book on English Learning. It is more necessary to appreciate you because of your tender care and perfect consideration for me. I would never forget that night when you sent the umbrella to me at the library.

  Have you got free time in this summer vocation? If yes, I hope I have the honor to invite you to come to my home and enjoy the beautiful scene of my hometown. At last, I want to thank you again.

  Best wishes!

  sincerely yours, Tom

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