经典英文演讲范文3分钟（精选3篇）
Youth is not a time of life, it is a state of mind ; it is not rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees, it is a matter of the emotions : it is thefreshness ; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life .
Youth means a temperamental predominance of courage over timidity of theappetite , for adventure over the love of ease. This often exists in a man of 60more than a boy of 20 . Nobody grows old merely by a number of years . We growold by deserting our ideals.
Years wrinkle the skin , but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul .Worry , fear , self –distrust bows the heart and turns the spirit back to dust.
Whether 60 of 16 , there is in every human being ‘s heart the lure ofwonders, the unfailing childlike appetite of what’s next and the joy of the gameof living . In the center of your heart and my heart there’s a wireless station: so longas it receives messages of beauty , hope ,cheer, courag
When I was fifteen, I announced to my English class that I was going towrite and illustrate my own books. Half the students sneered, the rest nearlyfell out of their chairs laughing. “Don’t be silly, only geniuses can becomewriters,” the English teacher said smugly, “And you are getting a D thissemester.” I was so humiliated I burst into tears.
That night I wrote a short sad poem about broken dreams and mailed it tothe Capri’s Weekly newspaper. To my astonishment, they published it and sent metwo dollars. I was a published and paid writer. I showed my teacher and fellowstudents. They laughed. “Just plain dumb luck,” the teacher said. I tastedsuccess. I’d sold the first thing I’d ever written. That was more than any ofthem had done and if it was just dumb luck, that was fine with me.
During the next two years I sold dozens of poems, letters, jokes andrecipes. By the time I graduated from high school, with a C minus average, I hadscrapbooks filled with my published work. I never mentioned my writing to myteachers, friends or my family again. They were dream killers and if people mustchoose between their friends and their dreams, they must always choose theirdreams.
I had four children at the time, and the oldest was only four. While thechildren napped, I typed on my ancient typewriter. I wrote what I felt. It tooknine months, just like a baby. I chose a publisher at random and put themanuscript in an empty Pampers diapers package, the only box I could find. I’dnever heard of manuscript boxes. The letter I enclosed read, “I wrote this bookmyself, I hope you like it. I also do the illustrations. Chapter six and twelveare my favourites. Thank you.” I tied a string around the diaper box and mailedit without a self addressed stamped envelope and without making a copy of themanuscript.
A month later I received a contract, an advance on royalties, and a requestto start working on another book. Crying Wind, the title of my book, became abest seller, was translated into fifteen languages and Braille and soldworldwide. I appeared on TV talk shows during the day and changed diapers atnight. I traveled from New York to California and Canada on promotional tours.My first book also became required reading in native American schools inCanada.
Work and play do not contradict each other; in fact, they complement each other. As the saying goes, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." A life burdened with work leads you nowhere, for you would get tired and bored with your daily routine work. On the other hand, proper recreation will relieve the tension and discomfort of our monotonous life because it offers you various ways to let out your pent-up emotions.
What I usually do to relax after school is jogging and seeing movies. Usually I don't spare time for exercise, but I value the physical education class at school. Jogging several rounds in the field certainly relieves the day's pressure. On weekends, I'll catch the morning movie for my visual enjoyment. I feel revived and energetic for another week's work-load.
A King who did't have children wanted an honest boy to be his inheritant.
He told all the boys who wanted to be chosen“Today I give each of you a seed,after three monthes,the boy who gets the most beatiful flower will be my inheritant."Three monthes passed,all the clever and bright boys took their beatiful flowers to flatter the King except one boy having nothing in his pot with his eyes full of tears.The boy said to the King:“My honorable King,I water it every day,feed her carefully,even when sleeping,I didn't let it away from me,but I can get nothing in the end.”
The King laughed:"You can get nothing,my honest prince,because what I have given to you is burned seeds!"