英語作文彙總五篇

在學習、工作、生活中，大家都不可避免地要接觸到作文吧，作文是從內部言語向外部言語的過渡，即從經過壓縮的簡要的、自己能明白的語言，向開展的、具有規範語法結構的、能為他人所理解的外部語言形式的轉化。那麼，怎麼去寫作文呢？以下是小編收集整理的英語作文5篇，僅供參考，大家一起來看看吧。

There is an old man living next to my house. I can see him every day when I walk down the street. He sells shoes every day and he has done the business for more than 20 years. Most people have changed their career but only he insists. I admire him because he sells shoes no matter rain or shine. He loves his job and has a nice talk to his customers.

有一個老人住在我家附近，我每天上街的時候都可以看到他。他每天都在賣鞋子，已經賣了二十多年了。大多數人都會改變他們的`職業，然而只有他堅持着。我很欽佩他，因為他無論風吹雨打都在賣鞋子。他喜歡他的工作，跟他的客户也聊得開心。

From the chart we can see clearly that the number of Internet surfers in our country has increased from 26.5 million in July 20xx to 45.8 million in July 20xx， and then to 59.1 million in January 20xx.

In my mind， the reasons why the Internet surfers are on the rise are as follows. First， the Internet can help us accomplish many tasks， including both work and play—searching for information has become more convenient than ever， and safe online business is no longer a dream. Besides， surfing the Internet is becoming cheaper and cheaper—more and more people can afford it.

The negative effects of the Internet are also clear. To begin with， sitting too long before the computers is harmful to our body， especially our eyes. Second， more and more people become indulged in playing video games or chatting online， which are time-consuming.

All in all， I should say the advantages outweigh the disadvantages. The key lies in whether we can make good use of it to enhance both work and study.

There were three of them. There were four of us, and April lay on the campsite and on the river, a mixture of dawn at a damp extreme and the sun in the leaves at cajole. This was Deer Lodge on the Pine River in Ossipee, New Hampshire, though the lodge was naught but a foundation remnant in the earth. Brother Bentley's father, Oren, had found this place sometime after the First World War, a foreign affair that had seriously done him no good but he found solitude abounding here. Now we were here, post World War II, post Korean War, Vietnam War on the brink. So much learned, so much yet to learn.

Peace then was everywhere about us, in the riot of young leaves, in the spree of bird confusion and chatter, in the struggle of pre-dawn animals for the start of a new day, a Cooper Hawk that had smashed down through trees for a squealing rabbit, yap of a fox at a youngster, a skunk at rooting.

We had pitched camp in the near darkness, Ed LeBlanc, Brother Bentley, Walter Ruszkowski, myself. A dozen or more years we had been here, and seen no one. Now, into our campsite deep in the forest, so deep that at times we had to rebuild sections of narrow road (more a logger's path) flushed out by earlier rains, deep enough where we thought we'd again have no traffic, came a growling engine, an old solid body van, a Chevy, the kind I had driven for Frankie Pike and the Lobster Pound in Lynn delivering lobsters throughout the Merrimack Valley. It had pre-WW II high fenders, a faded black paint on a body you'd swear had been hammered out of corrugated steel, and an engine that made sounds too angry and too early for the start of day. Two elderly men, we supposed in their seventies, sat the front seat; felt hats at the slouch and decorated with an assortment of tied flies like a miniature bandoleer of ammunition on the band. They could have been conscripts for Emilano Zappata, so loaded their hats and their vests as they climbed out of the truck.

"Mornin', been yet?" one of them said as he pulled his boots up from the folds at his knees, the tops of them as wide as a big mouth bass coming up from the bottom for a frog sitting on a lily pad. His hands were large, the fingers long and I could picture them in a shop barn working a primal plane across the face of a maple board. Custom-made, old elegance, those hands said.

"Barely had coffee," Ed LeBlanc said, the most vocal of the four of us, quickest at friendship, at shaking hands. "We've got a whole pot almost. Have what you want." The pot was pointed out sitting on a hunk of grill across the stones of our fire, flames licking lightly at its sides. The pot appeared as if it had been at war, a number of dents scarred it, the handle had evidently been replaced, and if not adjusted against a small rock it would have fallen over for sure. Once, a half-hour on the road heading north, noting it missing, we'd gone back to get it. When we fished the Pine River, coffee was the glue, the morning glue, the late evening glue, even though we'd often unearth our beer from a natural cooler in early evening. Coffee, camp coffee, has a ritual. It is thick, it is dark, it is potboiled over a squaw-pine fire, it is strong, it is enough to wake the demon in you, stoke last evening's cheese and pepperoni. First man up makes the fire, second man the coffee; but into that pot has to go fresh eggshells to hold the grounds down, give coffee a taste of history, a sense of place. That means at least one egg be cracked open for its shells, usually in the shadows and glimmers of false dawn. I suspect that's where "scrambled eggs" originated, from some camp like ours, settlers rushing west, lumberjacks hungry, hoboes lobbying for breakfast. So, camp coffee has made its way into poems, gatherings, memories, a time and thing not letting go, not being manhandled, not being cast aside.

I am always amazed when I hear people saying that sport creates goodwill between the nations, and that if only the common peoples of the would could meet one another at football or cricket, they would have no inclination to meet on the hattlefield. Even if one didn't know from concrete examples (the 1936 Olympic Games, for instance) that international sporting contests lead to orgies of hatred, one could deduce if from general principles.

Nearly all the sports practised nowadays are competitive. You play to win, and the game has little meaning unless you do your utmost to win. On the village green, where you pick up sides and no feeling of local patriotism is involved, it is possible to play simply for the fun and exercise: but as soon as a the question of prestige arises, as soon as you feel that you and some larger unit will be disgraced if you lose, the most savage combative instincts are aroused. Anyone who has played even in a school football match knows this. At the international level, sport is frankly mimic warfare. But the significant thing is not the behaviour of the players but the attitude of the spectators: and, behind the spectators, of the nations who work themselves into furies over these absurd contests, and seriously believe -- at any rate for short periods -- that running, jumping and kicking a ball are tests of national virtue.

當我聽人們説體育運動可創造國家之間的友誼，還説各國民眾若在足球場或板球場上交鋒，就不願在戰場上殘殺的時候，我總是驚愕不已。一個人即使不能從具體的事例（例如1936年的奧林匹克運動會）瞭解到國際運動比賽會導致瘋狂的仇恨，也可以從常理中推斷出結論。

現在開展的體育運動幾乎都是競爭性的。參加比賽就是為了取勝。如果不拚命去贏，比賽就沒有什麼意義了。 在鄉間的草坪上，當你隨意組成兩個隊，並且不涉及任何地方情緒時，那才可能是單純的為了娛樂和鍛鍊而進行比賽。可是一量涉及到榮譽問題，一旦你想到你和某一團體會因為你輸而丟臉時，那麼最野蠻的爭鬥天性便會激發起來。即使是僅僅參加過學校足球賽的人也有種體會。在國際比賽中，體育簡直是一場模擬戰爭。但是，要緊的還不是運動員的行為，而是觀眾的態度，以及觀眾身後各個國家的態度。面對着這些荒唐的比賽，參賽的各個國家會如痴如狂，甚至煞有介事地相信 -- 至少在短期內如此 -- 跑跑、跳跳、踢踢球是對一個民族品德素質的檢驗。

Today is a happy 61 children's day, be in this day, we but glad, everybody is met to the top of one‘s bent amuse oneself, only joyous song laughed that day language, all not happy, cast after the head completely.

In the morning, had eaten breakfast, I come cheerly to earthly square, each lofty sentiments is full of classmates, in spirits. Them each holds each head high hold out a bosom, each is perky and dye-in-the-wood. Today, also be the day that new team member joins a group, it is the Young Pioneer fastens red scarf to the chairman above all, young Pioneers are discharging orderly team, went up rostrum, the experienced chairman that goes up to the stage has fastened red scarf. In them skilled pose falls, gave me not little encourage, I am thinking, they are OK, why am I not OK? In the side they adorn when red scarf, I am a bit excited, also fear a bit, I feel this is a how glorious thing, but I fear again oneself made a mistake.

The little little sisters of little little brother of that batch of one grade wore red scarf proudly, make a pledge below bright-coloured ensign, this is additional also the joyance when I remember first time wears red scarf. The uncle aunt on the side people taking camera, take the hour that left this joy, they look at their children to join a group gloriously, dou Lou gave bright smile.

After flag-raising ceremony ends, everybody is stepping orderly pace to come to the place of pleasance, there is happy smile on everybody‘s face, search the sport that oneself like severally. And before the game of our class, discharging to grow senior team, everybody is interested in this game very much, I am in look at aside, see the look of their kickball: Some is sweating; Some showed bright smile; Some seeming is to expressing to be not in kicking cannot... they the ball ability that each is showing oneself, everybody is so outstanding. Passed a little while, the good friend walks over, ask why I don‘t play game? I listen, say to her: You do not say I still forgot to have really so much interesting , I search the sport that I like. I strolled in garden circuit, abrupt byessay questiongame place is attracted, then I am on team of in front of excitedly. I see the classmate in front replies correctly, I feared a bit, it is too difficult to fear to inscribe, I won‘t reply. To me, my heart jump continuously, take a step ahead slowly, after viewing a subject, I thought a little while, guessed. I feel this game is very easy, played a few times again.

There is atmosphere in little ground. Happy laugh, ground of for a long time is on field resound. Time one second ground went, pleasance activity also ended. I cross the 61 Children‘s Festivals this year really interestingly! This will become the jewel of a glaring bright in my life memory. Wish everybody: Happy Children Day!