进入大学后，一部分非英语专业的学生一般都会发现自身的英语水可能逐步弱化，原因可能是大学后非英语专业对英语这门课不大重视，学生不大会自觉背诵英语单词，词组。接下来小编告诉你大学英语写人作文范文。
我的老师
Two secondary school teachers I remember show how different people can be though engaged in the same profession.
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Mrs. Wang, my philosophy teacher, sent us to sleep less than ten minutes when she started talking in class. When a head nodded, she would point at the dozing student and made threatening remarks. She said that she was bored teaching us. Some students in her eyes had no desire to learn. But the other teacher Mr. Li always had bright eyes in a smiling face and encouraging words which showed that he loved Chinese history he was teaching and wanted us to love it too.
When it came to their attitudes to their students, they were different too. After Mrs. Wang finished her day's lessens she felt that she had finished her job. once when I asked her a question outside class about a term, she continued with preparation to leave and said that I could bring my question to class next week. Before I knew it she had put her keys into her handbag and walked out of the door. In the history class, however, a question even after the bell would still be given attention to by Mr. Li. He would rush to the board in a last minute attempt to clear up. Often he was seen with a number of students standing outside the classroom, discussing the day's assignment.
Their methods of teaching were not like as well. Mrs. Wang stuck to the textbook and trained us how to memorize minute facts. However Mr. Li brought in films, maps, slides, tapes, anything that would help us learn. once the whole class went to see the 'film Lin Zexu' in order to better understand the history of the Opium War from 1840 to 1842.
Owing to these contrasts, I do not think I can forget either of my past teachers.
2 大学英语写人作文范文 一
A Miserable Talent
There once was a person who lived all his life in the king dom established by himself, poor, lonely, and without any recognition by others.
When he was 28, he fell in love with his cousin who was a pregnant widow. To express his love, he stretched his hand into the burning stove and seriously hurt his hand, almost disabling it. But his cousin didn't understand the special and weird way of love, and refused him. He nearly killed himself for this incident.
once he went to a place requiring tickets. Without even five Francs, he was not allowed to get in. A woman named Rashell said to him, "Since you haven't got any money, why not cut your ears instead?" He went back home and really cut his ears off with a sharp knife, then wrapped them in a piece of cloth,and sent them to Rashell. Most citizens in the town thought that he must be insane, and even asked the government to send him to the madhouse.
He loved painting, and he was a very talented , nobody could understand his pictures, nor could any one be aware of their value. His pictures could only be left in a tiny gallery administered by his brother, but none of them was sold for years. Because of that, his brother was almost fired by the gallery holder.
Perhaps there was only one picture finally sold out during his lifetime, which was named "Red Vineyard," at a price of four pounds. But the fact was that it was bought by his brother and friends who wanted to help him.
His biggest wish was to find a cafe to exhibit his works, but no cafe was willing to offer the service until he was dead.
In total desperation, he shot his abdomen but not said to the doctor who came hurriedly, "It seems.., that I didn't do it well.., again..."
He died in boundless despair and loneliness. His funeral was also very simple.
He was Vincent Van Gogh, the great painter. No one can rival him in the artistic achievement even up to now. Every single one of his pictures is priceless. Now these pictures are collected in the museums in Paris, London and the Netherlands,and all of them are hung in the most conspicuous places. His birthplace Holland and his death place France both consider him a citizen.
Why does God treat him so unfairly? Creating him as a talent while not creating even one person appreciating him? Does a talent need equal suffering to match with? Talented to the extreme, miserable to the extreme? Maybe God has already figured it out.
3 大学英语写人作文范文 二
我记忆中的一位老师
A Teacher in My Memory
I have many teachers in my life, but one of them I can never forget. She was my English teacher in my middle school, whose name is Xu Qing-wen. She was about forty then, and looked younger than her age. She was a kind, qualified and capable teacher.
She was always patient, and never tired of helping her students. Whenever students turned to her with questions, she would not hesitate to help them. She was good at teaching and organized her class well. Her teaching was interesting, attractive and knowledgeable. Before starting a new lesson, she would give students several questions to guide their preparation, and tell them some background knowledge to enlarge their knowledge. In class, sometimes in order to emphasize important points, she would tell witty stories. She corrected our exercises promptly and carefully. In this way her students could also learn from their mistakes.
With her help, all her students made rapid progress in the learning of English. Students liked her because they regarded her as their best friend as well as their best teacher. How lucky we were to be her students!
4 大学英语写人作文范文 三
Memories of My Mother
"Long, long ago, there was an island in the distant sea,where lived a fairy who was said be able to make a child lovely and bright. One day, ..." As the story went on, MumPs voice grew fainter and fainter, when she gently looked down at a melodious song came into my ear as if music made by the angels flying in the faraway sky. Gradually, Mom's smile dimmed, and her glittering eyes were just like the brightest stars on the dark blue curtain of night...
Countless nights had passed in this way during my infancy. In my naive heart, Mother's voice was deeper and softer than the nightingale. Even now I still remember quite clearly that cradlesong she used to sing before I fell asleep. Those old melodies still sound so good to me, as they melt the years me, Mother's companionship was the most important thing in my childhood.
Mother is an incurable romantic, passionately in love with life and with the mystery of the universe. She taught me to open up all the channels of my senses to touch and feel what lies all a round me, and discovered with me the beauty of nature, the joy,excitement and mystery of the new and the unknown. She is quite at home in literature because of her active and imaginative mind. Every new experience, every new discovery concerning the world could delight her.
I went off to college, but Mum is still always in my memory. I could hear her voice every time I fell short in breast to cradle to reassuring hug, Mum has shared all the happiness and depression of mine. However, she never expressed herself. Upon my entry into university, when she and Father were going back home, she hurriedly turned back to run along, even without a look at me. I knew she dared not, for fear that tears should fall down in my presence. This separation would last nearly five months during which she could not see me. She was just trying to stop me from seeing her crying. I was refraining myself, too, because the long time living with her had made me an exact person like her. Later, Father told me she kept wiping her eyes on the bus to the railway station. I knew that, because I love you, Mum, and you already knew that too.