A little girl with a tall ponytail, with her chin in her right hand, stared at the book with relish. Sometimes I frown and think about something; Liu Haier sometimes hangs down to his forehead; Sometimes I hold glasses that slide down the bridge of my nose. Look at that look, as if completely immersed in an interesting story.

In the library, students are immersed in the sea of books. A boy student is sitting at his desk writing a book. Is he thinking with a frown?

He is a naughty boy. He reads too fast and crackles like a fried peanut.

Juanjuan read the text in Mandarin, and her voice was crisp and nice. Even the sunshine is fascinated. She sneaked into the classroom through the window and left it on her book, which she didn't want to leave for a long time.

I read this book greedily, like a hungry lamb rushing into the green grass.

She got into the sea of books, like a fish in the sea, and forgot the passage of time.

He managed to pull himself together and opened the book. From the beginning, he felt that lines of words were moving on it, like flying; Later, I thought it was just a blur, like a nest of ants crawling around on paper.

Lang Lang's reading voice flew out from all the classrooms, like a touching children's chorus, with notes all over the sky.

I saw that he was absorbed in calculation, leaving a thin layer of sweat on his forehead, and seemed to forget everything around him.

There was silence in the classroom, only the pen tip rustled on the paper, as if speaking confidences softly and quietly. Under the fluorescent lamp, the spacious reading room is crowded with dark readers, some of whom are writing at their desks, some are meditating and some are mumbling.

He buried himself in his homework again, and the room was quiet, except for the rustling of pens on the paper. Students sit in the classroom, listening attentively to the teacher's lecture, just like dozens of flowers blooming quietly under the watering of hard gardeners.

Xiao Fei sat in his seat, writing and writing. There seems to be a steady stream of spring water flowing out of his pen. In less than one class, I actually wrote a composition.

Xiaohong just sat facing the window, and the afternoon sun shone on her round face, making her cheeks more rosy; She holds her chin in her hand with a pen, her eyes are wide open, her bright eyes are swimming slowly, and her plump chin is slightly upturned-this is a more ingenious solution that she thinks of every time.

He stared at the contents of the book carefully, read it carefully, and sometimes laughed happily; Sometimes frown as if to cry; Sometimes I sigh deeply, which is unpredictable. It seems to have merged with the world in the book. Everything in the book, every sentence affects his mood and makes him addicted to every one. After reading an article, he gently closed the book, closed his eyes and lost in thought, as if remembering the world in the book.

In the classroom with bright windows, students sit straight at their desks and read books. The classroom is very quiet, and occasionally they can be heard turning pages. They look different, some frown slightly, as if they have puzzled doubts; Some smile lightly, as if feeling the happiness brought by knowledge; Some students' eyelashes trembled slightly and their eyes froze between the lines. It turned out that he had been there, and the whole person was immersed in the book.