词汇：torn

v. 扯裂，撕开（tear的过去分词）

相关场景

INT. LIVING ROOM, BOGUCKI APARTMENT - LATER The ceramic stove. Szpilman's ghetto clothes, torn into strips, are being stuffed into it and burned. Janina shoves the strips of clothes into the stove. Szpilman, now wearing Bogucki's suit and clean-shaven, watches the clothes burn while he spoons hot soup into his mouth.
>> 钢琴家 The Pianist Movie Script
He wanders forlornly down the street, passing empty buildings with their doors open, windows smashed. Furniture, torn mattresses and pillows lie scattered. Feathers fly.
>> 钢琴家 The Pianist Movie Script
Rowe runs up and pulls Jack off of Rose, revealing her dishevelled and sobbing on the deck. Her dress is torn, and the hem is pushing up above her knees, showing one ripped stocking. He looks at Jack, the shaggy steerage man with his jacket off, and the first class lady clearly in distress, and starts drawing conclusions. Two seamen chug across the deck to join them.
>> 泰坦尼克号 Titanic (1997) Movie Script
Boys like these, younger than these, their arms torn out, their legs ripped off.
>> 闻香识女人Scent of a Woman 1992 Movie Script
Nearby, we see the monster’s warpath. The SPEAKER BOX is TORN TO SHREDS. Wires and circuits everywhere.
>> A Quiet Place 寂静之地 Movie Script 2018
THE DOG IS GONE. THE END OF THE LEASH FRAYED, AS IF TORN.
>> A Quiet Place 寂静之地 Movie Script 2018
- [Narrator] Searching for a passage to the third deck, the team steers the ROV forward, closer to the blast area where the wreckage is torn open, in hope to find a way down to the third deck.
>> Pearl Harbor: Into The Arizona 珍珠港：亚利桑那号探秘（2016） Movie Script
DANNY:
We were both torn up. I started dropping by to see her, because we understood what each other felt. We'd have coffee and try not to talk about you, but we always would.
>> Pearl Harbor 珍珠港（2001） Movie Script
EXT. PENTANGELI'S LONG BEACH ESTATE - DAY Part of the old estate of Don Corleone. By now, the wall has been torn down, and the other houses sold off.
>> The Godfather: Part II 教父2 1974 Movie Script
VIEW ON FANUCCI:
He holds onto the door frame, trying to stand erect, trying to reach for his gun. The force of his struggle has torn the buttons off his jacket and made it swing loose. His gun is exposed but so is a spidery vein on the white shirtfront of his stomach. Carefully, as if plunging a needle into this vein, Vito Corleone fires a second bullet.
>> The Godfather: Part II 教父2 1974 Movie Script
She holds one up, then another. She is torn. Clemenza shakes his head and straightens the dress on her body. His hand brushes her arm; she looks at him smiling.
>> The Godfather: Part II 教父2 1974 Movie Script
CUT TO:
BUTTERCUP: bruised and torn, as Westley crawls slowly toward her.
>> The Princess Bride Movie Script
And without a second thought or consideration of the dangers, she starts into the ravine. A moment later, she too is falling, spinning and twisting, crashing and torn, cartwheeling down toward what is left of her beloved.
>> The Princess Bride Movie Script
Augustus trotted the few steps to the blacksmith shop and dropped a loop over Call’s shoulders. Then he turned the horse away, took a wrap around the saddle horn, and began to ride up the street. Call wouldn’t turn loose of Dixon at first. He hung on and dragged him a few feet from the anvil. But Augustus kept the rope tight and held the horse in a walk. Finally Call let the man drop, though he turned with a black, wild look and started for whoever had roped him, not realizing who the man was. The skin was torn completely off his knuckles from the blows he had dealt Dixon, but he was lost in his anger and his only thought was to get the next assailant. It was in him to kill—he didn’t know if Dixon was dead, but he would make sure of the next man.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
It seemed to her, after a month of it, that she was carrying Bob away with those sheets; he had already lost much weightand every morning seemed a little thinner to her. The large body that had lain beside her so many nights, that had warmed her in the icy nights, that had covered her those many times through the years and given her five children, was dribbling away as offal, and there was nothing she could do about it. The doctors in Ogallala said Bob’s skull was fractured; you couldn’t put a splint on a skull; probably he’d die. And yet he wasn’t dead. Often when she was cleaning him, bathing his soiled loins and thighs with warm water, the stem of life between his legs would raise itself, growing as if a fractured skull meant nothing to it. Clara cried at the sight—what it meant to her was that Bob still hoped for a boy. He couldn’t talk or turn himself, and he would never beat another horse, most likely, but he still wanted a boy. The stem let her know it, night after night, when all she came in to do was clean the stains from a dying body. She would roll Bob on his side and hold him there for a while, for his back and legs were developing terrible bedsores. She was afraid to turn him on his belly for fear he might suffocate, but she would hold him on his side for an hour, sometimes napping as she held him. Then she would roil him back and cover him and go back to her cot, often to lie awake half the night, looking at the prairies, sad beyond tears at the ways of things. There Bob lay, barely alive, his ribs showing more every morning, still wanting a boy. I could do it, she thought—would it save him if I did? I could go through it one more time—the pregnancy, the fear, the sore nipples, the worry—and maybe it would be a boy. Though she had borne five children, she sometimes felt barren, lying on her cot at night. She felt she was ignoring her husband’s last wish—that if she had any generosity she would do it for him. How could she lie night after night and ignore the strange, mute urgings of a dying man, one who had never been anything but kind to her, in his clumsy way. Bob, dying, still wanted her to make a little Bob. Sometimes in the long silent nights she felt she must be going crazy to think about such things, in such a way. And yet she came to dread having to go to him at night; it became as hard as anything she had had to do in her marriage. It was so hard that at times she wished Bob would go on and die, if he couldn’t get well. The truth was, she didn’t want another child, particularly not another boy. Somehow she felt confident she could keep her girls alive—but she lacked that confidence where boys were concerned. She remembered too well the days of icy terror and restless pain as she listened to Jim cough his way to death. She remembered her hatred of, and helplessness before, the fevers that had taken Jeff and Johnny. Not again, she thought—I won’t live that again, even for you, Bob. The memory of the fear that had torn her as her children approached death was the most vivid of her life: she could remember the coughings, the painful breathing. She never wanted to listen helplessly to such again.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“No, mostly girls here tonight,” Dan said. “Are you waiting for election day or what? Bring the goddamn horses.” Little Eddie brought them. The dawn was behind him, very faint but coming. Soon it was possible to make out the results of the battle. Wilbarger’s two men were dead, still in their blankets. One was Chick, the little weasel Jake remembered seeing the morning they brought the horses in from Mexico. He had been hit in the neck by a rifle bullet, Frog Lip’s, Dan said. The bullet had practically torn his head loose from his body—the corpse reminded Jake of a dead rabbit, perhaps because Chick had rabbitlike teeth, exposed now in a stiff grimace.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Evidently it hadn’t been enough for the girl, because her head had been smashed in too. So had the boy’s, probably with the butt of the rifle Gus had given him. The deputy had been castrated as well. Using saddle strings, Gus tied the blankets as tightly around them as he could. It was strange that three such people had been on the Canadian, but then, that was the frontier—people were always wandering where they had no business being. He himself had done it and got away with it—had been a Ranger in Texas rather than a lawyer in Tennessee. The three torn specimens he was tying into their shrouds had not been so lucky.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Sure enough, when they were fifty or sixty yards away, their horses caught the first whiffs of fresh blood, still pumping from the torn throat of the dying horse. They slowed and began to rear and shy, and as they did, Augustus started shooting. The Indians were dismayed; they flailed at the horses with their rifles, but the horses were spooked. Two stopped dead and Augustus immediately shot their riders. He could have asked for no better target than an Indian stopped fifty yards away on a horse that wouldn’t move. The two men dropped and lay still. Augustus replaced the two cartridges and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. The blood had bought him a chance—without it he would have been overrun and killed, no matter how fast or well he had shot. Now the Indians were trying to force their horses into a charge, but it wasn’t working—the horses kept swerving and shying. Some tried to circle to the south, and when they turned, Augustus shot two more. Then one Indian did a gallant thing—he threw a blanket over his horse’s head and got the confused horse to charge blind. The man seemed to be the leader; at least he carried the longest lance. He charged at the wallow, rifle in one hand, lance in the other, though when he tried to lever the rifle with one hand he dropped it.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“They eat most anything,” Roscoe said. “I guess they can’t be choosy.” After the meal, Roscoe felt less lightheaded. The girl sat a few feet away, staring into the waters of the creek. She seemed just a child. Her legs were muddy from wading in the creek, her arms still bruised from her troubles with old Sam. Some of the bruises were blue, others had faded to yellow. The cotton-sack dress was torn in several places.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Why you’re a torn turkey, ain’t you,” Louisa said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“You men won’t disappoint me, will you?” he asked. “I’m mean as a torn turkey when I’m disappointed.” “We’ve always been taken at our word,” Call said. “You can count on forty horses at sunup, thirty-five dollars a horse.” “We’ll be here,” Wilbarger said. “You won’t have to hunt us up.” “Wait a minute,” Call said. “What’s your horse brand, or do you have one?” “I have one,” Wilbarger said. “I brand HIC on the left hip.”“Are your horses shod?” Call asked.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The caution about pigs ended the sign to Augustus’s satisfaction, at least for a while, but after a year or two had passed, he decided it would add dignity to it all if the sign ended with a Latin motto. He had an old Latin schoolbook that had belonged to his father; it was thoroughly battered from having been in his saddlebags for years. It had a few pages of mottoes in the back, and Augustus spent many happy hours poring over them, trying to decide which might look best at the bottom of the sign. Unfortunately the mottoes had not been translated, perhaps because by the time the students got to the back of the book they were supposed to be able to read Latin. Augustus had had only a fleeting contact with the language and had no real opportunity to improve his knowledge; once he had been caught in an ice storm on the plains and had torn out a number of pages of the grammar in order to get a fire started. He had kept himself from freezing, but at the cost of most of the grammar and vocabulary; what was left didn’t help him much with the mottoes at the end of the book. However, it was his view that Latin was mostly for looks anyway, and he devoted himself to the mottoes in order to find one with the best look. The one he settled on was Uva uvam vivendo varia fit, which seemed to him a beautiful motto, whatever it meant. One day when nobody was around he went out and lettered it onto the bottom of the sign, just below “We Don’t Rent Pigs.” Then he felt that his handiwork was complete. The whole sign read: HAT CREEK CATTLE COMPANY AND LIVERY EMPORIUM CAPT. AUGUSTUS MCCRAE—CAPTAIN W. F. CALL (PROPS.) P. E. PARKER (WRANGLER) DEETS, JOSHUA
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
ARNOLD pushes off on the floor and whizzes over to Nedry's master terminal in his chair. With one stroke of his arm, he brushes all the loose junk off Nedry's station - junk food, soda cans, torn out magazine pages - - and tries to work.
>> 侏罗纪公园 1 Jurassic Park (1993) Movie Script
The jungle seems to grow very quiet. They all stare at the motionless crane line. It jerks suddenly, like a fishing pole finally getting a nibble. There's a pause - - - - and then a frenzy. The line jerks every which way, the jungle plants sway and SNAP from some frantic activity within, there is a cacophony of GROWLING, of SNAPPING, of wet CRUNCHES that mean the steer is literally being torn to pieces and is almost makes it worse that we can't see anything of what's going on - - - - and then it's quiet again. The line jerks a few times, then stops. Slowly the SOUND of the jungle starts up again.
>> 侏罗纪公园 1 Jurassic Park (1993) Movie Script
Another lightning FLASH, and suddenly the trees are back where they’ve always been. Edward is lying shoeless and torn in a muddy puddle, staring up at the rain. And LAUGHING.
>> 大鱼 Big Fish (2003) Movie Script