No matter in study, work or life, everyone has tried writing. Writing is an important means to cultivate people's observation, association, imagination, thinking and memory. Still at a loss for composition? The following is the exercise book I collected for you, which is full of recalled compositions for reference only. I hope it will help you.

The exercise book is full of memories. Outside the window, the lights are dim. Look up at the sky, bit by bit. This quiet night makes my thoughts drift away gradually. A little starlight shines on the table through the gap in the curtain, accompanied by yellow lanterns, and there are slight ripples in my heart.

I don't know when to start reading my previous exercise books, one by one, page by page. The past dribs and drabs pass by in my mind, like scenes in movies, like slides, and are played back in my mind, reminding me of it.

Through the misty forest of time, I saw a girl smiling at the word "excellent" in the exercise book. She is happy because the word "excellent" is the teacher's evaluation of herself and her affirmation of completing her homework. She didn't expect the teacher to praise her for it, but felt that yesterday's action was worthwhile.

Communication doesn't need too many words, and one word constitutes a memory.

By the bright moonlight, I lifted the vague veil and saw a girl's face full of frustration. What is the reason? There is only one word-"good". Yes, it's another simple word, but this evaluation makes the girl full of doubts. She doesn't understand why she got "good" instead of "excellent", but she still has no answer after thinking hard. However, the next day, instead of going to the teacher, she worked harder to do her own thing. Last night's loss has been forgotten.

A moment of doubt? That word is also a kind of memory, rooted in the girl's memory.

Back in time, the hands will turn counterclockwise. Finally, it stopped. Over the heavy gears, I saw a girl smiling and ecstatic sitting at a brown wooden table. The reason is another word-"good". This ordinary and common word gives the girl strength. This is another evaluation, an evaluation of the practice of writing on a certain day.

Similarly, in the absence of relative communication, it expressed the teacher's affirmation of her writing. Needless to say, in a word, Daoxiang. Isn't this a memory? Into hazy smoke, stored in the girl's heart.

Three-foot platform, three-inch tongue, three-inch pen and three thousand peaches and plums.

Ten years of trees, ten years of wind, ten years of rain and a hundred thousand columns.

I have visited every corner of my heart, every inch of my heart, every page of my book, full of memories.

The exercise book is full of memories. The lines printed on the exercise book are like a long piece of music. The mixture of sweat and ink is like a touching note. The criss-crossing marks of red pen correction, like a talented musician, sketched out this score together with the notes and described it as a long song that played the movement of my life.

Once I packed my things and came across this exercise book. This book is not big, but my name is carefully written on the cover, and there is a plastic film outside to protect the exercise book from being spotless. Although it is a first-grade book, it is still similar to the new book in the bookstore. There are several big characters written in the center of the exercise book: "Math Exercise Book".

I looked at my exercise book and smiled, thinking, "I don't know how to write my first-grade homework?" Take a look! "I raised my hand, stretched out two hands, gently pinched the foot of the exercise book, and slowly turned it over, like a priceless treasure.

The next second, I was so scared that I almost threw my exercise book on the ground. Bright red forks came at me like sharp knives one after another, and several gossips ran at me like bullied children. "I'm not so bad at math now. How could I make so many mistakes at that time? Yes, I remember. At that time, I learned math step by step under the guidance of my teacher. Read it again, full of curiosity, I opened the second and third pages. ...

Memories of the past are slowly imprinted on my mind, and I will never forget the scene where the teacher stood on the podium and gave a lecture. Every noon, I hold a paper in one hand and homework in the other, and ask the teacher to answer questions ... My name jumps like a frog. How proud I was when the first assignment was all right and the teacher wrote the word "Congratulations" in my notebook, and when my name and grades ranked first in the class list.

In this small exercise book, there is also a boundary, which belongs to the world of numbers, the combination of numbers and letters, the intersection of parabola and straight line, chubby circle and tall rectangle. It is hard work that keeps the world alive.

A small exercise book is so magical. The teacher's help and my efforts will be the most beautiful colors in the world, intertwined, and draw a picture of knowledge in this exercise book.

That exercise book is full of memories. Memories are smiles in pain. Memories are sunshine in the cold winter.

-inscription

We have climbed out of our mother's stomach for fourteen years. In these fourteen years, we laughed, cried, fell and stood up again. However, we are busy studying every day. Have we forgotten all this? Leave some memories for yourself, look for the beauty of the past and recall the sweetness of the past!

Open the dusty photo album, the first one is a photo with a lollipop in his mouth, but tears streaming down his face. I remember when I was a child, I was very naughty. In order to eat my beloved lollipop, I secretly ran to my mother's room to get it. Who knows, my mother found out and was beaten. Ironically, I would rather be beaten by my mother than hand over my baby, and I ate this "hard-won" candy in front of my mother.

Now that I see this photo, I know how greedy I was when I was a child, and I can't help smiling.

I picked up my primary school exercise book and opened it. There was ugly and embarrassing handwriting inside. I can't help thinking back to when I was a child, I did my homework while watching TV. If I make a mistake, I won't correct it. If this word is ugly, I won't rewrite it. After the teacher checked, the big word was "rewrite." Now that I think about it, I really feel ridiculous. Before, I never thought about the consequences of everything and never understood the significance of doing everything.

In fact, there are many memories in life, but they are gradually forgotten by us. We are busy studying and working, which leads to our life is not wonderful. I hope one day, we can stay at home quietly, rummaging through our previous footprints, or walk on a small road and quietly recall the past time. You will find that many years ago, we had naive friendship and naive ideas; I have had moments of pride and moments of sadness. ...

Time flies, the sun and the moon fly like a shuttle. Time flies, we forget a lot, but there are always some beautiful moments worth remembering. If you have no memory at all, your life will be meaningless. Students, please remember, never forget your past, never forget your past, and know:

Save some memories for yourself!

The exercise book is full of memories. Looking back yesterday, we explained the meaning of youth with our enthusiasm, sweat and fearless courage. And every stroke in my math exercise book has made me experience the ups and downs of growing up. Every time I open my exercise book, the familiar handwriting will remind me of the hard-won "beauty".

Open my math exercise book, and you will find that it is really a colorful "small world": neat black pens are just like handicrafts that have just left the factory, waiting for the "review" of the inspector "Red Pen Army". After some tossing, it has been scarred and heartbroken. At this time, pink, green, purple and blue "staggered glue" will tightly surround them, repair their physical damage, and present their hard work to the inspectors with gorgeous appearance, so they nodded with relief and left a "good" or "excellent" certificate. But if you look carefully, you can find the story behind this exercise book.

"How did this problem go wrong again!" The math teacher frowned and drew a big red circle on the exercise book with a red pen, which was particularly dazzling. I dragged my heavy body back to my seat, remembering the teacher's worried expression in my heart: Learn not to die, be flexible ... This question ... I repeat it ... I clenched my sweaty fist and kept scratching my head, as if I could dig out the answer from my mind, and my heart was like being tied by a burning chain, suffering and suffering. In the exercise book, there are mispronounced sounds and solutions, as well as "Come on" secretly written on the side with a pencil. ...

Every time I review, memories fill my brain like stars, and the tears left on the homework paper have faded into pale yellow, which is called an eternal secret, just like a meteor crossing the night sky, short and precious.

I will always remember that every brightly lit night, my mother accompanied me to solve math problems. Her slender fingers touched the exercise book and patiently degraded it for me. Her gentle eyes untied the knot of doubt in my heart and made it bright, transparent and warm. In the exercise book, it smells like my mother, and it also carries my efforts bit by bit.

When I look at the math test paper that starts with the word "9", the red handwriting is so pleasant and wonderful. Then open the math homework, memories impact my heart. I used this word and a pen to write the most beautiful chapter for my youth.

That exercise book is full of memories. I gently opened the exercise book of grade one, and a wave of ink came to my face, full of memories. That's my math exercise book.

During the first year of junior high school, I was impetuous and playful, so I always left my homework behind. After playing for half a semester, the original top grades dropped rapidly, and the ranking in the math class plummeted. That was the first time you lost your temper with me. Your long curly hair hangs casually behind your back, but your always kind face is clouded at this time. You stare at me with a frown. You are my math teacher, and you have high hopes for me. However, my horrible grades are hanging at the end of the term, which makes you extremely disappointed.

Since then, you have trained me like a devil, and as long as I don't finish my homework seriously, let me rewrite it. At first, I was extremely reluctant to look at the returned paper and a piece of identical white paper, so I was very upset, wronged and angry. I just failed the exam once. Is it necessary? So, I was the last person to have a math class at that time. Now I look at the exercise books and papers at that time with red crosses everywhere, forming a red sea, sighing at my ignorance and lack of effort at that time. I opened the second grade book again.

I was really shocked when I opened it. You rewrote the format or ideas for me next to many geometry synthesis questions. Memories are torn and poured out. I still remember that I learned a lot of geometry at that time, and the questions were very difficult, and I also stipulated a fixed format, which was very annoying. Most of the questions in the exercise book are not structured correctly. You taught me how to write the format carefully and neatly with a red pen, and called me to your side to tell me about it. Your handwriting is strong, and you can see it clearly on the next page of the exercise paper. Black handwriting and red handwriting meet in one place. Red is like a flame, warming my heart and correcting my mistakes. I turned a page casually again and saw your strong handwriting: "format mastered." Come on! Great! "My heart is full of happiness.

Your careful revision of traces, dense format demonstrations and careful comments all reflect your sense of responsibility and carefulness. Some yellowed paper edges and slightly rolled paper corners weave a warm memory.

Open the exercise book now, the handwriting is neat, the format is correct, and every question is carefully written. I want to thank my math teacher, who promoted my growth. Thank you.

Gently close the third grade exercise book, the ink gradually dispersed, but the memories lingered in my heart. That exercise book is full of memories.

The exercise book is full of memories. In the silence, I accidentally turned to the old exercise book, and touched the texture of the paper and the unevenness of the handwriting with my hand, which made me feel familiar and unfamiliar.

Page by page, the little girl who was studying hard at her desk appeared in front of me. Open the page that has been wrinkled and the handwriting is a little unclear. The little girl at her desk seems a little tired, and seems to have been trapped by this extremely difficult problem. He wiped the book over and over again and turned it over again, but she still couldn't make it. She put her chin in her hands and stared at the question quietly, hoping that she could lock everything with sharp eyes like a fairy. Of course, this is impossible.

At this moment, a vague figure appeared beside her. I want to see who that person is. But he seems to be playing hide and seek with me. The more he wants to see clearly, the farther away he is. But she stood beside the little girl at the desk, with the little girl's pen in her hand, drew a few times in the exercise book, then squatted down for a while and drew in the book with the pen. His eyes are firm, just like a fairy in a little girl's dream, gently waving his sleeves and leading the little girl out of the trap. The little girl looked up at her admiringly, then looked down at the topic. After a few minutes of explanation, the little girl seemed to understand. She picked up the pen for drawing characters and smiled at them. Just then, a hazy face flashed before her eyes. I close my eyes and meditate, step by step approaching old acquaintances I don't know, just like clearing away layers of fog.

Finally, the clouds will come out, next to familiar classrooms, familiar seats and familiar girls. I met my old friend, my teacher. This time, I can clearly see that her face not only has a firm look, but also a kind smile.

I opened my eyes with satisfaction and continued to look at the book in my hand, the book that carries my memories, and the silence in my heart was also burned by this book. This makes me more convinced that there is still a fire shining in this silent world.