假如霍金获得了诺贝尔奖，请你为他写一段颁奖词。
要50--60字的，要好的?
感动，因为他们战胜了命运，战胜了死亡。
你是否感受到《命运》带来的强烈震撼?那是失聪的贝多芬与命运战斗时的怒吼。
你是否曾遨游《时间简史》，领略宇宙的奥秘?那是霍金用仅剩的两根手指拉开了地狱之门。
感动.源于他们显示了人类永远不向困难低头的本性。
身体的残缺或许可怕，死亡的阴影固然恐怖，但始终坚持信念.坚持人类不屈的本性.便仿佛拥有一把利剑。
可以消灭一切黑暗，赢得重生。
——————————————————————————————————————————霍金是谁
他是一个大脑，一个神话，一个当代最杰出的理论物理学家，一个科学名义下的巨人……或许，他只是一个坐着轮椅，挑战命运的勇士。
他身残志坚，智商超人。
现代爱因斯坦是他当之无愧的荣誉。
他一生以研究重力和黑洞为主，并有了突出的成就和贡献。
为现代物理学和天体物理学做出极大的贡献。
是诺贝尔奖的当之无愧的获得者。
——————————————————————————————————————————他身残志坚，智商超人。
现代爱因斯坦是他当之无愧的荣誉。
他一生以研究重力和黑洞为主，并有了突出的成就和贡献。
为现代物理学和天体物理学做出极大的贡献。
是诺贝尔奖的当之无愧的获得者。
他就是举世闻名的英国剑桥大学教授——史蒂芬·霍金。
——————————————————————————————————————————他是一个大脑，一个神话，一个当代最杰出的理论物理学家，一个科学名义下的巨人……或许，他只是一个坐着轮椅，挑战命运的勇士。
——————————————————————————————————————————就先这几个捏...应该行的吧
我想要一些联欢会的主持词,最好是关于感恩的
感恩 落叶在空中盘旋，谱写着一曲感恩的乐章，那是大树对滋养它大地的感恩；白云在蔚蓝的天空中飘荡，绘画着那一幅幅感人的画面，那是白云对哺育它的蓝天的感恩。
因为感恩才会有这个多彩的社会，因为感恩才会有真挚的友情。
因为感恩才让我们懂得了生命的真谛 ——题记 从婴儿的“哇哇”坠地到哺育他长大成人，父母们花去了多少的心血与汗水，编织了多少个日日夜夜；从上小学到初中，乃至大学，又有多少老师为他呕心沥血，默默奉献着光和热，燃烧着自己，点亮着他人。
感恩是发自内心的。
俗话说“滴水之恩，当涌泉相报。
”更何况父母，亲友为你付出的不仅仅是“一滴水”，而是一片汪洋大海。
是否你在父母劳累后递上一杯暖茶，在他们生日时递上一张卡片，在他们失落时奉上一番问候与安慰，他们往往为我们倾注了心血、精力，而我们又何曾记得他们的生日，体会他们的劳累，又是否察觉到那缕缕银丝，那一丝丝皱纹。
感恩需要你用心去体会，去报答。
感恩是敬重的。
居里夫人作为有名的科学家，曾两次获得诺贝尔奖，但她在会上看见自己的小学老师，用一束鲜花表达她的感激之情；伟人也同样在佳节送上对老师的一份深深感激。
自古以来的伟人无不有着一颗感恩的心，感激不需要惊天动地，只需要你的一句问候，一声呼唤，一丝感慨。
感恩是有意义的。
爱让这个世界不停旋转。
父母的付出远远比山高、比海深，而作为我们，只知饭来张口，衣来伸手。
而似乎又有一条隔离带，让我们变得自私自利，忘记了曾经父母的付出，忘记了那一声声快乐，学会去感激别人是自己的一份良心，一份孝心，因为如此才会有和睦，有快乐，有彼此间的敬重。
怀着一颗感恩的心，去看待社会，看待父母，看待亲朋，你将会发现自己是多么快乐，放开你的胸怀，让霏霏细雨洗刷你心灵的污染。
学会感恩，因为这会使世界更美好，使生活更加充实。
学会感恩 亲爱的同学们，我们的人生之路总是阳光明媚,晴空万里，到底哪一缕阳光最耀眼
有人说是优异的学习成绩，有人说是给予别人帮助……而我认为在我们的人生路上最灿烂的阳光应该属于知恩图报，感谢帮助我们成长的每一个人。
是的，学会感恩，是一种情怀,学会感恩，更是一种情操. 两年前，我得了一场大病，父母背着我东奔西跑，到处求医，从他们焦急的神态中，从他们悉心的呵护中，我深深地体会到父母对我发自内心的爱。
一天，爸爸用自行车驮我去医院，我坐车后发现爸爸骑得很慢.几个月了，爸爸是太累了，我的病让他身心疲惫。
我无意中发现了爸爸头上的一些白发。
啊，爸爸变了，变老了。
我在他身上看到了岁月的沧桑，看到了生活的艰辛，更看到了爸爸为我操劳的痕迹。
啊，爸爸没变，大山般的父爱没变。
我依然感受着他的温暖，他的爱。
那是我住院期间的一天傍晚，天很冷，外面的雪下得很大。
爸爸下班后赶来给我送饭，可是我想吃饺子。
他二话不说，放下手里提来的家里做好的饭菜，迎着凛冽的大风，冒着漫天飞舞的鹅毛大雪又出去为我买饺子。
天黑了，风更猛了，雪更大了.这时,雪人似的爸爸一边走还一边说：“饿坏了吧
”看着爸爸慈祥的面容，摸着爸爸冻得通红的双手,我感动得流泪了。
“爸爸，爸爸……”我在心里一遍遍地念叨，“你真是我的好爸爸
”。
冬天是寒冷的，而爸爸所做的一切，却仿佛阳光，温暖我病痛的躯体；又似暖流，融进我愁苦的心坎里；爸爸的关爱，撑起了我战胜病魔的信念,经过一个多月的治疗,我康复出院. 我永远不会忘记父母对我的爱，对我的呵护和关怀。
我能为他们做些什么
我常常这样问自己。
哪怕是为他们垂垂肩，洗洗碗，给他们唱段曲儿，陪他们逛逛街，散散步，我也会感到心里的安慰。
学会感恩,学会报答,我仿佛一下子长大了:我用心学习，不让他们为我的操心；我抢着洗碗拣菜，让他们能多休息一会儿；我经常哼哼小曲,让家庭充满欢声笑语……我尽我所能给父母留下最难忘的美好时光，让他们开心,让他们骄傲, 我爱我的父母，普天下的孩子们都爱自己的父母.让我们一起对父母说一声：“我们爱您
”让我们一起行动，知恩图报,学会感恩.冬天就不再寒冷，黑夜就不再漫长,幸福快乐就时刻陪伴在你我身边.
诺贝尔文学奖全集的内容简介
1968年，以《雪国》、《古都》、《千只鹤》代表作，获得诺贝尔文学奖。
瑞典皇家文学院常务理事、诺贝尔文学奖评选委员会主席安德斯·奥斯特林致授奖辞，突出地强调：“川端先生明显地受到欧洲近代现实主义的影响，但是，川端先生也明确地显示出这种倾向：他忠实地立足于日本的古典文学，维护并继承了纯粹的日本传统的文学模式。
在川端先生的叙事技巧里，可以发现一种具有纤细韵味的诗意。
”“川端康成先生的获奖，有两点重要意义。
其一，川端先生以卓越的艺术手法，表现了道德性与伦理性的文化意识；其二，在架设东方与西方的精神桥梁上做出了贡献。
”安德斯·奥斯特林最后宣读了奖状题词：“这份奖状，旨在表彰您以卓越的感受性，并用您的小说技巧，表现了日本人心灵的精髓。
”
诺贝尔文学奖的获奖词和颁奖词的区别
获奖词是获奖者说。
颁奖词，是主持人说，是对获奖者的评价，以及为什么能获得该奖。
求塞尔玛·拉格洛夫在获诺奖的颁奖典礼上发表的致谢演说
额，只有英文版，我从诺贝尔奖官网找到的Banquet SpeechSelma Lagerlöf's speech at the Nobel Banquet at Grand Hôtel, Stockholm, December 10, 1909(Translation)A few days ago I was sitting in the train, bound for Stockholm. It was early evening; there was little light in my compartment and none at all outside. My fellow passengers were dozing in their respective corners, and I was very quiet, listening to the rattling of the train.And then I began to think of all the other times I had come up to Stockholm. It had usually been to do something difficult - to pass examinations or to find a publisher for my manuscript. And now I was coming to receive the Prize in Literature. That, too, I thought would be difficult.All through this autumn I had lived at my old home in Värmland in complete solitude, and now I should have to step forward in the presence of so many people. I had become shy of life's bustle in my solitary retreat and was apprehensive at the thought of facing the world.Deep within me, however, was a wondrous joy at receiving this Prize, and I tried to dispel my anxiety by thinking of those who would rejoice at my good fortune. There were my good friends, my brothers and sisters and, first and foremost, my old mother who, sitting back home, was happy to have lived to see this day.But then I thought of my father and felt a deep sorrow that he should no longer be alive, and that I could not go to him and tell him that I had been awarded the Nobel Prize. I knew that no one would have been happier than he to hear this. Never have I met anyone with his love and respect for the written word and its creators, and I wished that he could have known that theSwedish Academy had bestowed on me this great Prize. Yes, it was a deep sorrow to me that I could not tell him.Anyone who has ever sat in a train as it rushes through a dark night will know that sometimes there are long minutes when the coaches slide smoothly along without so much as a shudder. All rustle and bustle cease and the sound of the wheels becomes a soothing, peaceful melody. The coaches no longer seem to run on rails and sleepers but glide into space. Well, that is how it was as I sat there and thought how much I should like to see my old father again. So light and soundless was the movement of the train that I could hardly imagine I was on this earth. And so I began to daydream: «Just think, if I were going to meet Father in Paradise! I seem to have heard of such things happening to other people - why, then, not to myself?» The train went gliding on but it had a long way to go yet, and my thoughts raced ahead of it. Father will certainly be sitting in a rocking chair on a veranda, with a garden full of sunshine and flowers and birds in front of him. He will be reading Fritjofs saga, of course, but when he sees me he will put down his book, push his spectacles high up on his forehead, and get up and walk toward me. He will say, «Good day, my daughter, I am very glad to see you», or «Why, you are here, and how are you, my child», just as he always used to do.He will settle again in his rocking chair and only then begin to wonder why I have come to see him. «You are sure there is nothing amiss?» he will ask suddenly. «No, Father, all is well», I will reply. But then, just as I am about to break my news to him, I will decide to keep it back just a while longer and try the indirect approach. «I have come to ask you for advice, Father,» I will say, «for I am very heavily in debt.»«I am afraid you will not get much help from me in this matter», Father will reply. «One may well say of this place that, like the old estates in our Värmland, it has everything except money.»«Ah, but it is not money that I owe, Father.» «But that's even worse», Father will say. «Begin right at the beginning, daughter.»«It is not too much to ask that you should help, Father, for it was all your fault right from the beginning. Do you remember how you used to play the piano and sing Bellman's songs to us children and how, at least twice every winter, you would let us read Tegnér and Runeberg and Andersen? It was then that I first fell into debt. Father, how shall I ever repay them for teaching me to love fairy tales and sagas of heroes, the land we live in and all of our human life, in all its wretchedness and glory?»Father will straighten up in his rocking chair and a wonderful look will come into his eyes. «I am glad that I got you into this debt», he will say. «Yes, you may be right, Father, but then remember that that is not all of it. Think how many creditors I have. Think of those poor, homeless vagabonds who used to travel up and down Värmland in your youth, playing the fool and singing all those songs. What do I not owe to them, to their mischief and mad pranks! And the old men and women sitting in their small grey cottages as one came out of the forest, telling me wonderful stories of water-sprites and trolls and enchanted maidens lured into the mountains. It was they who taught me that there is poetry in hard rocks and black forests. And think, Father, of all those pale, hollow-cheeked monks and nuns in their dark cloisters, the visions they saw and the voices they heard. I have borrowed from their treasure of legends. And our own peasants who went to Jerusalem - do I owe them nothing for giving me such glorious deeds to write about? And I am in debt not only to people; there is the whole of nature as well. The animals that walk the earth, the birds in the skies, the trees and flowers, they have all told me some of their secrets.»Father will smile and nod his head and look not at all worried. «But don't you understand, Father, that I carry a great burden of debt?» I will say, and look more and more serious. «No one on earth knows how I can repay it, but I thought that you, in Heaven, would know.» «We do», Father will say and be as carefree and relaxed as he used to be. «Never fear, child, there is a remedy for your trouble.»«Yes, Father, but that's not all. I am also heavily in debt to those who have formed and moulded our language into the good instrument that it is, and taught me to use it. And, then, am I not in debt to those who have written in prose and in verse before my time, who have turned writing into art, the torchbearers, the pathfinders? The great Norwegians, the great Russians who wrote when I was a child, do I not owe them a thousand debts? Has it not been given to me to live in an age in which my own country's literature has reached its highest peak, to behold the marble emperors of Rydberg, the world of Snoilsky's poetry, Strindberg's cliffs, Geijerstam's countryfolk, the modern men of Anne-Charlotte Edgren and Ernst Ahlgren,Heidenstam's Orient? Sophie Elkan, who has brought history to life, Fröding and his tales of Värmland's plains, Levertin's legends, Hallström's Thanatos, and Karlfeldt's Dalekarlian sketches, and much else that was young and new, all that nourished my fantasy, drove me on to compete, and made the dreams bear fruit - do I not owe them anything?»«Yes, yes», Father will say. «You are right, yours is a heavy debt but, never fear, we will find a way.»«I don't think, Father, that you really understand how hard it is for me. You don't realize that I am also in debt to my readers. I owe them so much - from the old King and his youngest son, who sent me on my apprentice's wanderings through the South, to the small schoolchildren who scribbled a letter of thanks for Nils Holgersson. What would have become of me if no one had wanted to read my books? And don't forget all those who have written of me. Remember the famous Danish critic who, with a few words, won me friends all over Denmark! And he who could mix gall and ambrosia in a more masterly fashion than anyone in Sweden had ever done before his time. Now he is dead. Think of all those in foreign lands who have worked for me. I owe them gratitude, Father, both for their praise and for their censure.»«Yes, yes», Father will say, and I shall see him look a little less calm. Surely, he will begin to understand that it will not be easy to help me.«Remember all who have helped me, Father!» I shall say. «Think of my faithful friend, Esselde, who tried to open doors for me when no one dared to believe in me. Think of others who have cared for and protected my work! Think of my good friend and travelling companion, who not only took me south and showed me all the glories of art but made life itself happier and lighter for me. All the love that has come to me, the honours, the distinctions! Do you not understand now that I had to come to you to ask how such debts can be paid?»Father has lowered his head and does not look so hopeful any more.«I agree, Daughter, it is not going to be easy to find help for you but, surely, there is nothing more you owe anyone?»«Yes, Father, I have found it difficult enough to bear all that I owed before, but my biggest debt has not yet come. That is why I had to come to you for advice.»I cannot understand how you could owe still more», Father will say. «Oh, yes », I will reply, and then I will tell him all about this.«I just cannot believe the Academy... », Father will say but, looking at me and seeing my face, he will know it is all true. And, then, every wrinkle in his face will tremble and tears will come into his eyes.«What am I to say to those who put my name up for the Prize and to those who have made the decision - think, Father, it is not only honour and money they are bestowing on me. They have shown that they have trust enough in me to single me out before the whole world. How shall I repay this debt?»Father will sit and still no words will come as he thinks. Then, drying tears of joy from his eyes, he will bang down his fist on the arm of the rocking chair and say, «I will not rack my brains about problems that no one in Heaven or on earth can solve. I am too happy that you have been given the Nobel Prize to worry about anything!»Your Majesties, Your Royal Highnesses, Ladies and Gentlemen - having received no better answer than this to all my questions, it only remains to me to ask you to join me in the toast which I have the honour to propose to the Swedish Academy.From Nobel Lectures, Literature 1901-1967, Editor Horst Frenz, Elsevier Publishing Company, Amsterdam, 1969
2020年公司年会主持词(1)
男：尊敬的各位来宾。
（ladies&gentlemen）女：同学们&乡亲们合：大家晚上好
男：我叫长风女：那我就是大侠。
男：（鄙弃表情）狗年的钟声即将敲响,时光的车轮又留下了一道深深的印痕。
伴随着冬日里温暖的阳光，2018年新春佳节马上到来，我们欢聚一堂……（打住）女：行了行了，长风果然好文艺，要我说的话，大家辛苦了一年，今晚就是要吃好喝好玩好。
男：这女纸话糙理不糙，应该这么说，让我们来同娱同乐，度过这个美好的夜晚!!慢点，你上句是什么
女：今晚大家吃好玩好
男：不对，再上一句。
女：长风好文艺
男：就是这句，说到文艺青年，鄙人真不敢当，艾为人才济济，过去的一年，涌现了大量可以跟莫言抢诺贝尔文学奖的撰稿人。
男：首先由请我们的马云峰马哥，为我们颁出的是艾为电子2017年度撰稿达人。
马哥上台，接过获奖名单的信封，打开，读出名单，获奖人员上台领奖，马哥颁奖。
男：其他还有汪琳8篇，83哥8篇，鹏程5篇，东将5篇，大鹏5篇，杨敏4篇。
女：祝贺得奖和没得奖的同学，希望你们来年再接再厉，写出更多优秀的稿子。
接下来，请为我们抽出幸运三等奖10名，奖品是面值1000元的购物卡一张。
开始抽奖，三等奖上台领奖（是否需要）。
（开始抽奖，《步步高》音乐开始播放）男：伴随着首批幸运同学的产生，我们的联欢晚会暨2012年表彰大会也正式开始。
女：首先，是我们生产运营部带来的神曲舞蹈《最炫民族风》。
大家跟着一起high起来。
男：多么精彩是表演，艾为果真美女
