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英語演講稿

時間:2020-12-28 10:30:48 英語演講稿 我要投稿

【薦】英語演講稿

  演講稿特別注重結(jié)構(gòu)清楚,層次簡明。隨著社會不斷地進步,我們使用上演講稿的.情況與日俱增,還是對演講稿一籌莫展嗎?以下是小編為大家收集的英語演講稿,歡迎大家分享。

【薦】英語演講稿

英語演講稿1

  In that faraway village, small mountain village ... ..." Ears suddenly echoed the" mother's kiss" this song, my heart cannot calm, reminds me of the great maternal love.

  A mother's love is like a tired work well, when you are weak and feeble, a few bites refreshed; motherly love like helpless when hands, when you don't know what to do, just hold on its difficulties will be smoothly done or easily solved; maternal love as the sun in winter, when you cold despair, as long as bathed in the warmth of love, all the disappear in smoke in a moment. A mother's love is like a pastoral poem, remote, pure, and elegant light; a

  mother's love is like a deep love song, melodious, lead a person to endless aftertastes; motherly love is like a landscape painting, quiet and beautiful, tranquil and elegant. The maternal love is a growing Yanyinqipan children; maternal love is concerned about their children before bed anxious; motherly love is drifting continuously miss the Earth children; maternal love is the sons and daughters of life concomitant joke.

英語演講稿2

  I was one of the only kids in college who had a reason to go to the P.O. box at the end of the day, and that was mainly because my mother has never believed in email, in Facebook, in texting or cell phones in general. And so while other kids were BBM-ing their parents, I was literally waiting by the mailbox to get a letter from home to see how the weekend had gone, which was a little frustrating when Grandma was in the hospital, but I was just looking for some sort of scribble, some unkempt cursive from my mother.

  And so when I moved to New York City after college and got completely sucker-punched in the face by depression, I did the only thing I could think of at the time. I wrote those same kinds of letters that my mother had written me for strangers, and tucked them all throughout the city, dozens and dozens of them. I left them everywhere, in cafes and in libraries, at the U.N., everywhere. I blogged about those letters and the days when they were necessary, and I posed a kind of crazy promise to the Internet: that if you asked me for a hand-written letter, I would write you one, no questions asked. Overnight, my inbox morphed into this harbor of heartbreak -- a single mother in Sacramento, a girl being bullied in rural Kansas, all asking me, a 22-year-old girl who barely even knew her own coffee order, to write them a love letter and give them a reason to wait by the mailbox.

  Well, today I fuel a global organization that is fueled by those trips to the mailbox, fueled by the ways in which we can harness social media like never before to write and mail strangers letters when they need them most, but most of all, fueled by crates of mail like this one, my trusty mail crate, filled with the scriptings of ordinary people, strangers writing letters to other strangers not because they're ever going to meet and laugh over a cup of coffee, but because they have found one another by way of letter-writing.

  But, you know, the thing that always gets me about these letters is that most of them have been written by people that have never known themselves loved on a piece of paper. They could not tell you about the ink of their own love letters. They're the ones from my generation, the ones of us that have grown up into a world where everything is paperless, and where some of our best conversations have happened upon a screen. We have learned to diary our pain onto Facebook, and we speak swiftly in 140 characters or less.

  But what if it's not about efficiency this time? I was on the subway yesterday with this mail crate, which is a conversation starter, let me tell you. If you ever need one, just carry one of these. (Laughter) And a man just stared at me, and he was like, "Well, why don't you use the Internet?" And I thought, "Well, sir, I am not a strategist, nor am I specialist. I am merely a storyteller." And so I could tell you about a woman whose husband has just come home from Afghanistan, and she is having a hard time unearthing this thing called conversation, and so she tucks love letters throughout the house as a way to say, "Come back to me. Find me when you can." Or a girl who decides that she is going to leave love letters around her campus in Dubuque, Iowa, only to find her efforts ripple-effected the next day when she walks out onto the quad and finds love letters hanging from the trees, tucked in the bushes and the benches. Or the man who decides that he is going to take his life, uses Facebook as a way to say goodbye to friends and family. Well, tonight he sleeps safely with a stack of letters just like this one tucked beneath his pillow, scripted by strangers who were there for him when.

  These are the kinds of stories that convinced me that letter-writing will never again need to flip back her hair and talk about efficiency, because she is an art form now, all the parts of her, the signing, the scripting, the mailing, the doodles in the margins. The mere fact that somebody would even just sit down, pull out a piece of paper and think about someone the whole way through, with an intention that is so much harder to unearth when the browser is up and the iPhone is pinging and we've got six conversations rolling in at once, that is an art form that does not fall down to the Goliath of "get faster," no matter how many social networks we might join. We still clutch close these letters to our chest, to the words that speak louder than loud, when we turn pages into palettes to say the things that we have needed to say, the words that we have needed to write, to sisters and brothers and even to strangers, for far too long. Thank you. (Applause) (Applause)

英語演講稿3

  As you slowly open your eyes, look around , notice where the light comes into your room; listen carefully, see if there are new sounds you can recognize; feel with your body and spirit, and see if you can sense the freshness in the air. Yes, yes, yes, it’s a new day, it’s a different day, and it’s a bright day! And most importantly, it is a new beginning for your life, a beginning where you are going to make new desicisions, take new actions, make new friends, and take your life to a totally unprecedented level! You know all this is real as long as you are confident,passionate and committed! And you are confident, you are passionate, you are committed!

  You will no longer fear making new sounds, showing new facial expressions, using your body in new ways,approaching new people, and asking new questions. You will live every single day of your life with absolute passion, and you will show your passion through the words you speak and the actions you take. You will focus all your time and effort on the most important goals of your life. You will never succumb to challenges of hardships. You will never waver in your pursuit of excellence. After all,you are the best, and you deserve the best!

  As your coach and friend, I can assure you the door to all the best things in the world will open to you, but the key to that door is in your hand. You must do your part, you must faithfully follow the plans you make and take the actions you plan, you must never quit, you must never fear. I know you must do it, you can do it, you will do it, and you will succeed!

  Now stand firm and tall, make a fist, get excited, and yell it out: I must do it! I can do it! I will do it! I will succeed! I must do it! I can do it! I will do it! I will succeed! I must do it! I can do it! I will do it! I will succeed!

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