词汇：falling

adj. 落下的；下降的

相关场景

FREDO:

Dancing is alright; you're falling on the floor.

>> The Godfather: Part II 教父2 1974 Movie Script

The VIEW ALTERS, and we see that the line is endless. JOHNNY FONTANE, tears openly falling, takes his turn.

>> The Godfather教父 1972 Movie Script

A monk is alternately falling down and kipping up, falling down and kipping up.

>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script

The barber starts on Drew's head, big clumps of hair falling down to the floor.

>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script

It wasn't from falling Master, you hit me!

>> 西域雄狮 Once Upon a Time in China and America 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

BUTTERCUP: being spun INTO CAMERA view, falling heavily as the Man In Black releases her. We are at the edge of an almost sheer ravine. The drop is sharp and severe. Below, the ravine floor is flat, but getting there would not be half the fun.

>> The Princess Bride Movie Script

U.S. Destroyer Stockton reporting debris falling from the sky.

>> 火星救援 The Martian (2015) Movie Script

He hobbled over the plain through the long afternoon and twilight, finally collapsing sometime in the night. His hand slipped off the crutch and he felt it falling from him. In stooping to reach for it, he fell face down, unconscious before he hit the ground. In his dreams he was with Lorena, in the tent on the hot Kansas plains. He longed for her to cool him somehow, touch him with her cool hand, but though she smiled, she didn’t cool him. The world had become red, as though the sun had swollen and absorbed it. He felt as if he were lying on the surface of the red sun as it looked at sunset when it sank into the plain.

>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Augustus saw that it was true. The child couldn’t see where he was going, and a second later tripped over a pile of bloody horse guts, falling into them.

>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Through the late afternoon and far into the night the cattle stumbled over the plain, the weaker cattle falling farther and farther behind. By daybreak the herd was strung out to a distance of more than five miles, most of the men plodding along as listlessly as the cattle. The day was as hot as any they remembered from south Texas—the distances that had spawned yesterday’s wind refused to yield even a breeze, and it seemed to the men that the last moisture in their bodies was pouring out as sweat. They all yearned for evening and looked at the sun constantly, but the sun seemed as immobile as if suspended by a wire.

>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Jimmy Rainey soon followed, and was totally silent about his own experience. He was not over his upset stomach and kept falling behind to vomit as they walked around town looking for Lippy.

>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Hailstones were hitting all around him, bouncing off his arms, his saddle, his horse—and they were getting larger by the minute. Dish came riding over, still naked, trying to shelter his face and head with one arm. Hailstones were falling everywhere, splashing into the river, bouncing off the backs of the cattle and plunking into the muddy banks.

>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“How many did the lightning hit?” Newt asked, remembering the sight of the cattle falling dead.

>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Hailstones were hitting all around him, bouncing off his arms, his saddle, his horse—and they were getting larger by the minute. Dish came riding over, still naked, trying to shelter his face and head with one arm. Hailstones were falling everywhere, splashing into the river, bouncing off the backs of the cattle and plunking into the muddy banks.

>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“How many did the lightning hit?” Newt asked, remembering the sight of the cattle falling dead.

>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“No, sir,” Wilbarger said. “My foreman died, south of Fort Worth. I have another herd somewhere ahead of me, but I can’t leave to go check on it. I don’t know that I’ll ever see it again, although I may.” “What’d he die of?” Augustus asked. “It’s a healthy climate down that way.” “He died of a horse falling over backwards on him,” Wilbarger said. “He would test the broncs.” “Foolish,” Augustus said. “A grown man ought to have sense enough to seek gentle horses.” “Many don’t,” Wilbarger pointed out. “That mare Captain Call wouldn’t trade me didn’t look that gentle, yet he’s a grown man.” “Grown, but not what you’d call normal,” Augustus said. “I put it down to lack of education. If he’d been trained in Latin he’d most likely have let you have that horse.” “Do you consider yourself normal, then?” Wilbarger asked.

>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Monkey John was too drunk to listen. He charged Dog Face and swung the stick at him but Dog Face wasn’t as drunk. He hit Monkey John with the barrel of his rifle. The old man went loop-legged and dropped his stick. Then he dropped, too, falling on the stick.

>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“I guess you don’t remember me,” Augustus said, falling in beside him. “I’m Captain McCrae. We shot at one another all afternoon once, up on the Brazos. You was in one thicket and me and Captain Call was in the next one. We pruned the post oaks with all that shooting, and then we stuck you in jail and you crawled right out again.” “I don’t like you much,” Aus Frank said, still trundling. “Put me in the goddamn jail.” “Well, why’d you rob that bank?” Augustus said. “It ain’t Christian to rob your neighbors. It ain’t Christian to hold a grudge, neither. Wasn’t you born into the Christian religion?” “No,” Aus Frank said. “What do you want?” “A white girl,” Augustus said. “Pretty one. An outlaw carried her off. You may know him. His name is Blue Duck.” Aus Frank stopped the wheelbarrow. He needed to spit and leaned over and spat a large mouthful of tobacco juice directly into the hole of a red-ant bed. The ants, annoyed, scurried about in all directions.

>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

That evening, as dusk was falling, he was about to reconcile himself to another night spent propped against a tree. He didn’t like sleeping sitting up, but it meant he could be up and running quicker, if the need arose. But before he could select a tree to lean against he spotted a cabin a little distance ahead.

>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Then, as the sun was falling, he had what seemed like a stroke of luck. He heard someone yelling, and he rode into a little clearing near the trail only to discover that the reason there was a clearing was that a farmer had cut down the trees.

>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“He might have choked on a pepper,” Augustus said. “Them that can’t be killed by knives or bullets usually break their necks falling off the porch or something. Remember Johnny Norvel, dying of that bee sting? I guess Johnny had been shot twenty times, but a dern bee killed him.” It was true. The man had rangered with them, and yet the bee sting had given him a seizure of some kind, and no one could bring him out of it.

>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

To his surprise, nothing terrible happened. When she finally had the sheet under control, Mary took the bloomers from him as casually as if they were handkerchiefs or table napkins or something. To his vast surprise, she seemed to be rather amused at the sight of him standing there with a stream of water pouring off his hat and falling just in front of his nose.

>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Nobody would be loony enough to hire you to cook, Woodrow,” Augustus said. “The cap is supposed to keep the cook’s old greasy hairs from falling into the food. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of Bol’s hairs have found their way into this sow bosom.” Newt looked at Bolivar, sitting over by the stove in his dirty serape. Bolivar’s hair looked like it had had a can of secondhand lard poured over it. Once every few months Bol would change clothes and go visit his wife, but his efforts at improving his appearance never went much higher than his mustache, which he occasionally tried to wax with grease of some kind.

>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Git from here, shoat,” Augustus said. “If you’re that hungry go hunt up another snake.” It occurred to him that a leather belt couldn’t be much tougher or less palatable than the fried goat Bolivar served up three or four times a week. The old man had been a competent Mexican bandit before he ran out of steam and crossed the river. Since then he had led a quiet life, but it was a fact that goat kept turning up on the table. The Hat Creek Cattle Company didn’t trade in them, and it was unlikely that Bolivar was buying them out of his own pocket—stealing goats was probably his way of keeping up his old skills. His old skills did not include cooking. The goat meat tasted like it had been fried in tar, but Augustus was the only member of the establishment sensitive enough to raise a complaint. “Bol, where’d you get the tar you fried this goat in?” he asked regularly, his quiet attempt at wit falling as usual on deaf ears. Bolivar ignored all queries, direct or indirect.

>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇