词汇：dinner
n. 宴会；正餐；晚餐，晚宴
相关场景
- Uh... Tomorrow night, dinner with the minister of defense.>> 战争机器 War Machine (2017) Movie Script
- ...Let's wait and see (Call me to dinner (Frank - Why? - Would you like to have the dinner? - Women do not Thabn questions - Join me for dinner - This control plus - Is Tndmy Li at dinner? - That is another question - I I be a dinner ... If you have a desire to be Tndmy Music?>> 致命伴旅 The Tourist (2010) Movie Script
- Well, you two enjoy your dinner, and it's on me.>> 公正裁决 Equity (2016) Movie Script
- EXT. DINING HALL – NIGHT ESTABLISHING SHOT OF DREW CARRYING THE DIRTY PLATES FROM DINNER.>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
- ANGLE ON WU: Who pushes his dinner away from him.>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
- INT. DINNER ROOM – DAY ESTABLISHING SHOT OF GAO CARRYING A PLATE OF CHINESE FOOD OVER TO A TABLE WHERE THE DISCIPLES EATING, THEIR EYES SCANNING THE ROOM FOR SIGNS OF WARNING.>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
- I'll be having Thanksgiving dinner at granny's house.>> 2024-01-the grilled cheese sandwich
- Seven guests will be joining us for dinner. Seven guests will be having dinner with us.>> 2024-01-the grilled cheese sandwich
- For dinner, we'll be serving roast duck!>> 2024-01-the grilled cheese sandwich
- He rode the dun into Lonesome Dove late on a day in August, only to be startled by the harsh clanging of the dinner bell, the one Bolivar had loved to beat with the broken crowbar. The sound made him feel that he rode through a land of ghosts. He felt lost in his mind and wondered if all the boys would be there when he got home.
八月的一天晚些时候，他骑着dun进入Lonesome Dove，却被晚餐铃的刺耳叮当声吓了一跳，这是玻利瓦尔喜欢用折断的撬棍敲打的。这声音让他觉得自己仿佛穿越了一片鬼地。他感到心绪不宁，不知道回家时是否所有的男孩都在那里。>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇- He was doing that when Lorena came to tell him Bob was dead. Hearing the footsteps, he had the hope that it was Clara, and he pictured her face in his mind, not stern and impersonal, as it often was when she was directing some work, but soft and smiling, as it might be if she were playing with Martin at the dinner table.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “Well, it’s a town, of sorts,” he said. “I’ve a mind to do something civilized, like eat dinner in a restaurant. If that’s asking too much, I could at least go in a barroom and drink a glass of whiskey.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- It struck him that he had forgotten emptiness such as existed in the country that stretched around him. After all, for years he had lived within the sound of the piano from the Dry Bean, the sound of the church bell in the little Lonesome Dove church, the sound of Bol whacking the dinner bell. He even slept within the sound of Pea Eye’s snoring, which was as regular as the ticking of a clock.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “I guess Willie will be so glad to see us he’ll offer us a free dinner, at least,” Augustus said, as they trotted over to the saloon. “Maybe a free whore, too, if he’s prospering.” But when they strode in, there was no sign of Willie or anyone they recognized. A young bartender with slick hair and a string tie gave them a look when they stepped to the bar, but seemed as if he could scarcely be troubled to serve them.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- When he grew bored, he could beat the dinner bell with the broken crowbar. For some reason it gave him great satisfaction to beat the dinner bell. It had little to do with dinner, or anything. It was just something he liked to do. When he stopped he could hear the echoes of his work fading into Mexico.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Bolivar had not taken kindly to being moved to a straggly camp out in the brush, with no dinner bell to whack or crowbar to whack it with. He kept his ten-gauge near the chuck box and scowled at everybody. The Irishmen were so intimidated that they were always the last ones in line. As a consequence they got little to eat and were no longer as fat as they had been the day they arrived.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- They die like the rest of us. I expect Bol will die one of these days, and then we won’t have nobody to whack the dinner bell with the crowbar.” “Pedro was tough, though,” Call said.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- No sooner had he said it than they saw the Captain come out of the house and walk toward them. Dish was still on his hands and knees. About that time Bolivar began to beat the dinner bell with the crowbar, though it was much earlier than their usual supper hour. He had evidently not cleared his action with the Captain, who looked around in annoyance. The clanging of iron on iron didn’t do much to improve Dish’s condition—he began to make the boggy sound again.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- He himself had a linen tablecloth which he brought out once a year, on the anniversary of the death of his wife. His wife had been a bully and he didn’t miss her, but it was the only occasion sufficient to provide an excuse for the use of a tablecloth in Lonesome Dove. His wife, whose name had been Therese, had bullied horses, too, which is why his team had run off and flung themselves and the buggy into a gully, the buggy landing right on top of Therese. At the annual dinner in her honor Xavier proved that he was still a restaurateur of discipline by getting drunk without spilling a drop on the fine tablecloth. Augustus was the only one invited to the dinners, but he only came every three or four years, out of politeness; not only were the occasions mournful and silly—everyone in Lonesome Dove had been glad to see the last of Therese—they were mildly dangerous. Augustus was neither as disciplined a drinker as Xavier nor as particular about tablecloths, either, and he knew that if he spilled liquor on the precious linen the situation would end badly. He would not likely have to shoot Xavier, but it might be necessary to whack him on the head, and Augustus hated to hit such a small head with such a large pistol.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “Bol, I want you to quit whackin’ that bell with that crowbar,” he said. “You can do it at noon if you want to but let off doin’ it at night. A man with any sense can tell when it’s sundown. You’ve spoilt many a pretty evening for me, whackin’ that bell.” Bolivar stirred his sugary coffee and held his peace. He whacked the dinner bell because he liked the sound, not because he wanted anybody to come and eat. The men could eat when they liked—he would whack the bell when he liked. He enjoyed being a cook—it was a good deal more relaxing than being a bandit—but that didn’t mean that he intended to take orders. His sense of independence was undiminished.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “Drown me?” Augustus said. “Why, if anybody had tried it, those girls would have clawed them to shreds.” He knew Call was mad, but wasn’t much inclined to humor him. It was his dinner table as much as Call’s, and if Call didn’t like the conversation he could go to bed.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Fortunately, while he was worrying the question of what it was he couldn’t do, old Bolivar began to whack the dinner bell, which put an end to discussion. The old dinner bell had lost its clapper, but Bolivar had found a crowbar that somebody had managed to break, and he laid into the bell so hard that you couldn’t have heard the clapper if there had been one.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- And-- and-- and I don't start to fart around the dinner table, you know, unless I really know the people there, and they're comfortable with it 'cause they understand that social etiquette.>> Fart: A Documentary Movie Script
- It's not dinner table subject except at our dinner table some times, but that's just because somebody just did it.>> Fart: A Documentary Movie Script
- If something slipped out at dinner or in the car or something, I would laugh about it, and I would probably... It would make me feel like they were comfortable enough to do it and-- you know, I'm-- I'm not... gonna never call somebody again because they farted.>> Fart: A Documentary Movie Script