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學(xué)習(xí)啦 > 演講與口才 > 演講口才 > 即興演講 > 中學(xué)生的英語(yǔ)即興演講范文

中學(xué)生的英語(yǔ)即興演講范文

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中學(xué)生的英語(yǔ)即興演講范文

  英文即興演講是在校期間常遇到的一種演講形式,英文即興演講能夠很好的幫助學(xué)生鍛煉聽(tīng)說(shuō)寫(xiě)的能力,能夠增加學(xué)生的自信心和對(duì)英語(yǔ)的喜愛(ài)。下面是學(xué)習(xí)啦小編為你整理的幾篇中學(xué)生的英語(yǔ)即興演講范文,希望能幫到你喲。

  中學(xué)生的英語(yǔ)即興演講范文篇一

  What life is about

  As we all know, the most important thing in life is our attitude towards it, tons of men have tried different ways of treating life, and some succeeded, some failed, and here are some of the tips they left us.

  Life isn’t about keeping score. Life isn’t about your shoes or your hair or the color of your skin. In fact it’s not about if you have lots of friends or if you are alone, and it’s not about how accepted or unaccepted you are. Life just isn’t about that.

  But life is about whom you love and who you hurt. It’s about how you feel about yourself. It’s about trust, happiness and compassion. It’s about sticking up for your friends and replacing inner hate with love. Life is about avoiding jealousy, overcoming ignorance and building confidence. It’s about what you say and what you mean. It’s about seeing people for who they are and not what they have. And we should always remember to be ourselves. Other might have things that we desire but being what we really are is the only trail leading to the true colors of life. Most of all, it’s about choosing to use your life to touch someone else’s in a way that could have never been achieved otherwise.

  The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers; we buy more but enjoy them less. We’ve learnt how to make a living but not a life, we’ve added years to life, but not life to years. And it is time for us to choose whether to make a difference in our life.

  And these choices are what life is about.

  中學(xué)生的英語(yǔ)即興演講范文篇二

  I received a devastating blow to my self-confidence in the first interview of my college years. I applied to be a host in our Student Acting Troupe and felt confident that I would be accepted. But one of the panel members told me: "You seem inadequate and you are a little vertically-challenged." My life has never been the same since. I used bigger heels to complement my height and psychological maneuvers and tricks to hide my lack of confidence. But no matter how hard I tried to look the part, there was still something missing.

  As president of English Club, I organized the rehearsal of Snow White for an English party. Unfortunately, we could not find an actor to be the last dwarf. It had to be someone who was humorous by nature and fluent in English. Suddenly, all eyes turned to me, and I knew I would have to be the dwarf. To my great surprise and delight, once on stage, I was totally absorbed in the performance and my humorous nature was put to full use. As the dwarf, I was a big hit.

  Yes, each of us is only one among millions of others, but each of us is an individual and each of us is unique. Cultivating our individuality will transform our lives, making of them a kaleidoscope of new colors and textures.

  A world deprived of diversity would be a bland and boring place. The real tragedy is not being short or shy or ugly, but having your identity lost in a world in which everyone is a clone of a model cool boy or a flawless charming girl.

  Given a choice, I would rather be ugly than live in such a world. I'd rather be a genuine dwarf accompanying a Snow White than be a Snow White among nothing but Snow Whites. I would rather be myself. I would contribute my individual and unique colors to create a more diverse universe. Please, be yourself.

  中學(xué)生的英語(yǔ)即興演講范文篇三

  Springs are not always the same. In some years, April bursts upon Virginia hills in one prodigious leap – and all the stage is filled at once, whole choruses of tulips, arabesques of forsythia, cadenzas of flowering plum. The trees grow leaves overnight.

  In other years, spring tiptoes in. It pauses, overcome by shyness, like my grandchild at the door, peeping in, ducking out of sight, giggling in the hallway. “I know you’re out there,” I cry. “Come in!” And April slips into our arms.

  The dogwood bud, pale green, is inlaid with russet markings. Within the perfect cup a score of clustered seeds are nestled. One examines the bud in awe: Where were those seeds a month ago? The apples display their milliner’s scraps of ivory silk, rose-tinged. All the sleeping things wake up – primrose, baby iris, blue phlox. The earth warms – you can smell it, feel it, crumble April in your hands.

  Look to the rue anemone, if you will, or the pea patch, or to the stubborn weed that thrusts its shoulders through a city street. This is how it was, is now, and ever shall be, the world without end. In the serene certainty of spring recurring, who can fear the distant fall?

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