Live on a hot day, temple perianth scorched.My God!Fast water!"The young monk shouted, and then to the bucket of water."Don't worry," the old monk said, "now the sun, heat and cold, must die, and a little later poured.

"In the evening, the flower has become a vegetable."No sooner pour .. .." little monks muttered that, "must have been dead, how to cast could live.""Less verbose, pouring."The old monk called.

Water down, before long, already down flowers, he stood up, and full of life.My God!The young monk shouted, "they can really powerful, hold back there, holding the undead.""Nonsense," the old monk called, "not to support the undead, is alive and well.

""what's the difference?"The monk is low head."Of course," the old monk on monk, "I ask you, I this year, more than 80, I am holding die, still alive?"Vespers is finished, the old monk to monk called and asked him: "how, figured out?"No.

The monk is low head.The old monk knocks monk: "stupid, always afraid of people, holding the undead; every day look ahead, is alive and well.One day of life, will be a good day.Those alive every day to burn incense and pray that the fear of death, death can become Buddhas, certainly not the buddha.

"The old monk smiled, "his life to live, not live, why to heaven after his death better days?"One summer, I travel along the Yellow River, numerous stations in the Yellow River shore, see the river from the sky like a dragon tumbling, shed some women have, they like books.

Buy books, reading, writing, the book is the durability of their fashion and cosmetics in time about the art of living speech, the professor picked up a cups with water, asked the audience: guess, what this woman love man, in fact most men like shoulder; men fear women what, man most afraid of a woman flow let love continue, life goes on.



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