Beyond my heart
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China
September 9, 2008
I am old now, even if I am only 26. Ten years ago, I was 16. In that time, I was full of dreams, full of energy and full of happiness, even though there was so heavy studying task. The life was simple but rich and colorful. I had so many friends and we could talk together any time. But now, although life is simple too, it is no longer colorful. The adults' world is so hard and fictitious. I don't like my life now because I am not so sophisticated that I could adapt the world. Pressure is too heavy to carry on. And the dream is still far away. Most important, I do not own enough energy and strong will to reach the destination I want to be. I am old, just like a man whose body and mind are empty.
I hope this essay can encourage every one likes me who are struggling in the world!
Youth
Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind; it is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees; it is a matter of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life.
Youth means a temperamental predominance of courage over timidity of the appetite, for adventure over the love of ease. This often exists in a man of sixty more than a body of twenty. Nobody grows old merely by a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals.
Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. Worry, fear, self-distrust bows the heart and turns the spirit back to dust.
Whether sixty or sixteen, there is in every human being's heart the lure of wonder, the unfailing child-like appetite of what's next, and the joy of the game of living. In the center of your heart and my heart there is a wireless station; so long as it receives messages of beauty, hope, cheer, courage and power from men and from the Infinite, so long are you young.
When the aerials are down, and your spirit is covered with snows of cynicism and the ice of pessimism, then you are grown old, even at twenty, but as long as your aerials are up, to catch the waves of optimism, there is hope you may die young at eighty.
More entries: Most of us! (1), My IELTS, I am getting old! (2), I miss my friends
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10:32 AM Dec 08 2008 |
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darthblader
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08:09 PM Sep 09 2008 |
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hwyseung
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