大学英语作文

时间：2021-02-27 11:39:48 大学英语我要投稿

【精品】大学英语作文汇编7篇

　　在平平淡淡的学习、工作、生活中，大家都尝试过写作文吧，作文是一种言语活动，具有高度的综合性和创造性。怎么写作文才能避免踩雷呢？以下是小编收集整理的大学英语作文7篇，希望能够帮助到大家。

【精品】大学英语作文汇编7篇

大学英语作文篇1

　　Several months ago, a good news swept on China that Mo Yan won the 20xx Nobel Prize for literature. After this big event, Mo Yan, the first Chinese resident to win the prize, has been the crispy fried chicken among China. Gaomi County in Shandong Province becomes a tourist attraction because of his popularity. For his award, Chinese media overwhelming report this exciting news. People are rushing to the bookstores to buy his famous book and some are even out of stock。

　　Generally speaking, his award means a lot to China, especially Chinese literature. The Nobel Prize for literature is a dream of Chinese literary field and all Chinese people. However, as a large cultural country that owns countless classic works, China had no winner of the Nobel Prize for literature which had become a great pity. Therefore, this prize finishes a pile wish of Chinese people. In addition, although we have a great number of great works, very few people can read a book carefully and tranquilly in the impetuous society. I think this exciting news will inspire people’s enthusiasm towards literature, which is a great motivation to the development of literature. This is what we are happy to see。

大学英语作文篇2

　　-ears pricked forward intently as it watched the man and the man, as he beat and threshed with his arms and hands, felt a great surge of envy as he regarded the creature that was warm ant secure in its natural covering。

　　after a time he was aware of the first far-away signals of sensation in his beaten fingers。 the faint tingling grew stronger till it evolved into a stinging ache that was ecruciating, but which the man hailed with satisfaction。 he stripped the mitten from his right hand and fetched forth the birch bark。 the eposed fingers were quickly going numb again。 net he brought out his bunch of sulphur matches。 but the tremendous cold had already driven the life out of his fingers。 in his effort to separate one match from the others, the whole bunch fell in the snow。 he tried to pick it out of the snow, but failed。 the dead fingers could neither touch nor clutch。 he was very careful。 he drove the thought of his freezing feet, and nose, and cheeks, out of his mind, devoting his whole soul to the matches。 he watched, using the sense of vision in place of that of touch, and when he saw his fingers on each side the bunch, he dosed them--that is, he willed to close them, for the wires were down, and the fingers did not obey。 he pulled the mitten on the right hand and beat it fiercely against his knee。 then。 with both mittened hands, he scooped the bunch of matches, along with much snow, into his lap。 yet he was no better off。

　　after some manipulation he managed to get the bunch between the heels of his mittened hands。 in this fashion he carried it to his mouth。 the ice crackled and snapped when by a violent effort he opened his mouth。 he drew the lower jaw in, curled the upper lip out of the way, and scraped the bunch with his upper teeth in order to separate a match。 he succeeded in getting one, which he dropped on his lap。 he was no better off。 he could not pick it up。 then he devised a way。 he picked it up in his teeth and scratched it on his leg。 twenty times he scratched before he succeeded in lighting it。 as it flamed he held it with his teeth to the birch bark。 but the burning brimstone went up his nostrils and into his lungs, causing him to cough spasmodically。 the match fell into the snow and went out。

　　the old-timer an sulphur creek was right, he thought in the moment of controlled despair that ensued after fifty below, a man should travel with a partner。 he beat his hands, but failed in eciting any sensation。 suddenly he bared both hands, removing the mittens with his teeth。 he caught the whole bunch between the heels of his hands。 his arm muscles not being frozen enabled him to press the hand-heels tightly against the matches。 then he scratched the bunch along his leg it flared into flame, seventy sulphur matches at once! there was no wind to blow them out he kept his head to one side to escape the strangling fumes, and held the blazing bunch to the birth bark。 as he so held it, he became aware of sensation in his hand。 his flesh was burning。 he could smell it。 deep down below the surface he could feel it。 the sensation developed into pain that grew acute。 and still he endured, it holding the flame of the matches clumsily to the bark that would not light readily because his own burning hands were in the way, absorbing most of the flame。

　　at last, when he could endure no more, he jerked his hands apart。 the blazing matches fell sizzling into the snow, but the birch bark was alight。 he began laying dry grasses and the tiniest twigs on the flame。 he could not pick and choose, for he had to lift the fuel between the heels of his hands。 small pieces of rotten wood and green moss clung to the twigs, and he bit them off as well as he could with his teeth。 he cherished the flame carefully and awkwardly。 it meant life, and it must not perish。 the withdrawal of blood from the surface of his body now made him begin to shiver, and he grew more awkward。 a large piece of green moss fell squarely on the little fire。 he tried to poke it out with his fingers, but his shivering frame made him poke too far and he disrupted the nucleus of the little fire, the burning grasses and tiny twigs separating and scattering。 he tried to poke them together again, but in spite of the tenseness of the effort, his shivering got away with him, and the twigs were hopelessly scattered。 each twig gushed a puff of smoke and went out。 the fire-provider had failed。 as he looked apathetically about him, his eyes chanced on the dog, sitting across the ruins of the fire from him, in the snow, making restless, hunching movements, slightly lifting one forefoot and then the other, shifting its weight back and forth on them with wistful eagerness。

　　the sight of the dog put a wild idea into his head。 he remembered the tale of the man, caught in a blizzard, who killed a steer and crawled inside the carcass, and so was saved。 he would kill the dog and bury his hands in the warm body until the numbness went out of them。 then he could build another fire。 he spoke to the dog, calling it to him; but in his voice was a strange note of fear that frightened the animal, who had never known the man to speak in such way before。 something was the matter, and its suspicious nature sensed danger--it knew not what danger, but somewhere, somehow, in its brain arose an apprehension of the man。 it flattened its ears down at the sound of the mans voice, and its restless, hunching movements and the liftings and shiftings of its forefeet became more pronounced; but it would not come to the man。 he got on his hands and knees and crawled toward the dog。 this unusual posture again ecited suspicion, and the animal sidled mincingly away。

　　the man sat up in the snow for a moment and struggled for calmness。 then he pulled on his mittens, by means of his teeth, and got upon his feet。 he glanced down at first in order to assure himself that he was really standing up, for the absence of sensation in his feet left him unrelated to the earth。 his erect position in itself started to drive the webs of suspicion from the dogs mind; and when he spoke peremptorily, with the sound of whiplashes in his voice, the dog rendered its customary allegiance and came to him。 as it came within reaching distance, the man lost his control。 his arms flashed out to the dog, and he eperienced genuine surprise when he discovered that his hands could not clutch, that there was neither bend nor feeling in the fingers。 he had forgotten for the moment that they were frozen and that they were freezing more and more。 all this happened quickly, and before the animal could get away, he encircled its body with his arms。 he sat down in the snow, and in this fashion held the dog, while it snarled and whined and struggled。

　　but it was all he could do, hold its body encircled in his arms and sit there。 he realized that he could not kill the dog。 there was no way to do it。 with his helpless hands he could neither draw nor hold his sheath knife nor throttle the animal。 he released it, and it plunged wildly away, with tail between its legs, and still snarling。 it halted forty feet away and surveyed him curiously, with ears sharply pricked forward。 the man looked down at his hands in order to locate them, and found them hanging on the ends of his arms。 it struck him as curious that one should have to use his eyes in order to find out where his hands were。 he began threshing his arms back and forth, beating the mittened hands against his sides。 he did this for five minutes, violently, and his heart pumped enough blood up to the surface to put a stop to his shivering。 but no sensation was aroused in the hands。 he had an impression that they hung like weights on the ends of his arms, but when he tried to run the impression down, he could not find it。

　　a certain fear of death, dull and oppressive, came to him。 this fear quickly became poignant as he realized that it was no longer a mere matter of freezing his fingers and toes, or of losing his hands and feet, but tha

大学英语作文篇3

　　Hello everyone.Today I'm glad to be here to give a speech about my fresh experience in China Agriculture University.

　　大家好。今天我很高兴能在这里做一个关于我在中国农业大学首次经历的讲话。

　　First I must say the campus life is really different from what I have experienced in high school.For instance,I used to lean upon my dormitory teacher to wake me up on time.But now I have to set several alarm clocks to make myself could hear them in the morning otherwise I would miss my class.And then even worse there would be nobody remind me except my teacher!So the differences are everywhere and I could easily find them.The change of life is great and it's wonderful:I have more time of my own and the rights to decide how I live.

　　我要说的第一件事是大学校园生活真的不同于我所经历过的高中。例如，我过去常常依靠宿舍老师来按时叫醒我。但现在我必须设几个闹钟才能让我在早上听到闹钟响，否则我会错过我的`课。然后更糟糕的是除了我的老师没有人会提醒我！所以不同到处都是，我可以很轻易地就找到不同之处。生活的变化很大，它也很美妙：我有更多我自己的时间和决定生活方式的权利。

　　My campus activities are rich and colorful.Learning English has become a habit to me cause I plan to study abroad in next few years.Playing Guzheng is my favorite activity.I have kept on practising it since I was a little girl and I wish to win more competitions in my campus life.

　　我的大学校园活动是丰富多彩的。学习英语已经成为我的习惯，因为我计划在几年后出国留学。古筝是我最喜欢的活动。我还是个小女孩时，我一直在练习古筝，我希望在我的大学校园生活期间赢得更多的比赛。

　　Our university has the first level equipments and the most experienced teachers,also has the best students(laugh).I consider it to be a honor that I've got a chance to study here and I sincerely hope that we could live wonderful lives in our campus!

　　我们大学有一流的设备和最有经验的教师，也有最好的学生（大笑）。我认为我有机会在这里学习是一种荣誉，我真诚地希望我们能在我们的大学中活得更精彩！

大学英语作文篇4

　　Some people believe (argue, recognize, think) that 观点1. But other people take an opposite side. They firmly believe that 观点2. As for me, I agree to the former/latter idea.

　　There are a dozen of reasons behind my belief. First of all, 论据1. More importantly, 论据2. Most important of all, 论据3.

　　In summary, 总结观点. As a college student, I am supposed to 表决心. 或 From above, we can predict that 预测.

大学英语作文篇5

　　The Best Kind of Love

　　i have a friend who is falling in love. she honestly claims the sky is bluer. mozart moves her to tears. she has lost 15 pounds and looks like a cover girl.

　　im young again! she shouts euberantly.

　　as my friend raves on about her new love, ive taken a good look at my old one. my husband of almost 20 years, scott, has gained 15 pounds. once a marathon runner, he now runs only down hospital halls. his hairline is receding and his body shows the signs of long working hours and too many candy bars. yet he can still give me a certain look across a restaurant table and i want to ask for the check and head home.

　　when my friend asked me what will make this love last? i ran through all the obvious reasons: commitment, shared interests, unselfishness, physical attraction, communication. yet theres more. we still have fun. spontaneous good times. yesterday, after slipping the rubber band off the rolled up newspaper, scott flipped it playfully at me: this led to an all-out war. last saturday at the grocery, we split the list and raced each other to see who could make it to the checkout first. even washing dishes can be a blast. we enjoy simply being together.

　　and there are surprises. one time i came home to find a note on the front door that led me to another note, then another, until i reached the walk-in closet. i opened the door to find scott holding a pot of gold (my cooking kettle) and the treasure of a gift package. sometimes i leave him notes on the mirror and little presents under his pillow.

　　there is understanding. i understand why he must play basketball with the guys. and he understands why, once a year, i must get away from the house, the kids—and even him-to meet my sisters for a few days of nonstop talking and laughing.

　　there is sharing. not only do we share household worries and parental burdens—we also share ideas. scott came home from a convention last month and presented me with a thick historical novel. though he prefers thrillers and science fiction, he had read the novel on the plane. he touched my heart when he eplained it was because he wanted to be able to echange ideas about the book after id read it.

　　there is forgiveness. when im embarrassingly loud and crazy at parties, scott forgives me. when he confessed losing some of our savings in the stock market, i gave him a hug and said, its okay. its only money.

　　there is sensitivity. last week he walked through the door with that look that tells me its been a tough day. after he spent some time with the kids, i asked him what happened. he told me about a 60-year-old woman whod had a stroke. he wept as he recalled the womans husband standing beside her bed, caressing her hand. how was he going to tell this husband of 40 years that his wife would probably never recover? i shed a few tears myself. because of the medical crisis. because there were still people who have been married 40 years. because my husband is still moved and concerned after years of hospital rooms and dying patients.

　　there is faith. last tuesday a friend came over and confessed her fear that her husband is losing his courageous battle with cancer. on wednesday i went to lunch with a friend who is struggling to reshape her life after divorce. on thursday a neighbor called to talk about the frightening effects of alzheimers disease on her father-in-laws personality. on friday a childhood friend called long-distance to tell me her father had died. i hung up the phone and thought, this is too much heartache for one week. through my tears, as i went out to run some errands, i noticed the boisterous orange blossoms of the gladiolus outside my window. i heard the delighted laughter of my son and his friend as they played. i caught sight of a wedding party emerging from a neighbors house. the bride, dressed in satin and lace, tossed her bouquet to her cheering friends. that night, i told my husband about these events. we helped each other acknowledge the cycles of life and that the joys counter the sorrows. it was enough to keep us going.

　　finally, there is knowing. i know scott will throw his laundry just shy of the hamper every night; hell be late to most appointments and eat the last chocolate in the bo. he knows that i sleep with a pillow over my head; ill lock us out of the house at a regular basis, and i will also eat the last chocolate.

　　i guess our love lasts because it is comfortable. no, the sky is not bluer: its just a familiar hue. we dont feel particularly young: weve eperienced too much that has contributed to our growth and wisdom, taking its toll on our bodies, and created our memories.

　　i hope weve got what it takes to make our love last. as a bride, i had scotts wedding band engraved with robert brownings line grow old along with me! were following those instructions.

　　if anything is real, the heart will make it plain.

大学英语作文篇6

　　still, every now and then, you get guys in here asking for art. i tell them, no. no art tonight, because it鈥檚 the truth, and then these guys usually turn right around and go back the way they came, heads bowed, sometimes, but always shaking, and they leave like they鈥檙e leaving a funeral, real solemn. and they are, really--even the regulars don鈥檛 come around anymore.

　　when we had art, there was no room here for anything else. if you鈥檙e tired of standing around, the rumor went, just pick your feet up. they stood in line out the door, around the parking lot and back. they got food at the starvin鈥?marvin鈥檚 down the road and had picnics in the street, they had to wait so long. all just to take hold of the harness strapped to art鈥檚 back and have their turn flinging that damn midget as far as they could. we had waitresses too, the biggest waitresses available--si-foot-one the shortest of them. they broke up fights when the bouncers had trouble getting through the crowd, and they had free reign to clock any wise-ass copping a feel. it was easy to scam drinks, then, for then it was too busy for anyone to check up on you: a push here, a slide on the other end. a good bartender could clear a couple bills before he even started emptying his jar.

　　now there鈥檚 supposed to be room in back for a kitchen, a deli, maybe, somewhere to make sandwiches, but these new owners don鈥檛 know a thing about running a place like this. the old guy, sam, sold out long ago. his wife and two daughters left him soon after art, like they knew things were only going to pot, and sam, he cracked--put every bit of his money into land, and bought up a long tract outside palatka. i heard he tried bringing his wife back by promising to build a house, but there鈥檚 no money to build a house. all he has is land, and he likes to sit back and admire the view. i hear he鈥檚 put up a roof, perched on the ends of two-by-four鈥檚, and there he鈥檚 got a cot, a 12-gauge with no ammunition, a tool chest, a rocking chair with a cracked runner, his rottweiller, kirkegaard (the dog came with that name), matches, lantern, a coleman cooler and a sink that isn鈥檛 connected. i hear he spends his days playing fetch with kirkegaard, and before throwing out that stick, i hear he looks off into the untamed woods that is his land and thinks of when the dance floor was nothing but a sea of heads topped with waitresses like foam riding over wakes, like mermaids, the people brimming and sweating and clenching their fists, all wanting to get their hands on art, who waited for them in his bright yellow jumpsuit, grinning as if he couldn鈥檛 wait to be thrown again...

　　but you should have seen that little guy fly through the air--turning, i tell you, turning in the air, spinning around like a bagel, like a goddamn egg bagel on the wing. and everyone wanted a piece of him.

大学英语作文篇7

　　University Courses

　　Many young people go to universities without a clear idea of what they are going to do. If one considers the various courses offered, it is not hard to see how difficult it is for a student to select the course most suited to him. If a student goes to a university to acquire a broader perspective of life, he will undoubtedly benefit. Schools often have too restrictive an atmosphere. Most students would, I believe, profit by the exploration of different academic studles, especially the "all rounders'with no particular interest.They should have a longer time to decide in what subject they

　　want to take their degrees, so that in later life, they do not look back and regret.

　　There is, of course, another side to the question of how to make the best use of one's time at university. Some students,who are good at a particular branch of learning, may spend three or four years becoming a specialist, appearing with a first-class Honors Degree but very little knowledge of what the rest of the world is all about. Therefore there will have to be much more detailed information in all fields. On the one hand, a band of specialists ignorant of anything outside their own subject, and on the other hand, an ever-increasing number of graduates qualified in subjects for which there is little or no demand in the working world.

　　大学课程

　　很多年轻人进入大学，却并不清楚自己究竟想要做些什么，University Courses(大学课程)，四六级写作《University Courses(大学课程)》。看一看学校提供的种类繁多的课程，不难发现，学生选择适合自己的课程的确不是一件易事。如果一个学生上

　　大学是为了得到更广阔的生活前途，他无疑会受益匪浅。然而，学校的气氛常常很让人拘束。我相信，很多学生，特别是那些没有什么特殊爱好的“全能型学生”通过对不同学术研究的探索会收获颇多。学生们应该有更多的时间决定他们真正想要获得学位的学科，以致于在以后的生活中，他们回首往事时不会后悔。

　　当然，问题的另一方面就是如何充分利用大学时光。有些学生在某一特定学科非常优秀，在这三四年中他可能成为该领域的专家，获得头等荣誉学位，然而对其他领域的

　　知识却所知甚少。所以大学课程应该包含更多所有领域的详细知识。一方面，很多专家对自己学科之外的事情一无所知，另一方面，越来越多专业知识过硬的毕业生走向工作岗位，可惜的是，这些知识在工作中却并不实用。

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