词汇：concerned

adj. 关心的；有关的

相关场景

DON TOMMASSINO enters the Courtyard. He seems tired and concerned.
>> The Godfather教父 1972 Movie Script
The car takes the George Washington Bridge. MICHAEL is concerned.
>> The Godfather教父 1972 Movie Script
HAGEN bows his head; he is deeply concerned.
>> The Godfather教父 1972 Movie Script
INT NITE:
HOTEL MICHAEL and KAY eating a quiet dinner at the hotel. He is preoccupied, she's concerned.
>> The Godfather教父 1972 Movie Script
Ed, I am extremely concerned about this.
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Drew, very concerned, watches as the monks-to-be file through the temple doors.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
He hurries over to his master, a concerned look on his face.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
THE KID:
Well, maybe I was a little bit concerned. But that's not the same thing.
>> The Princess Bride Movie Script
Now there was July Johnson, a man whose love was nearly mute. Not only was he inept where feelings were concerned, he was also a dolt with horses. Loving horses as she did, Clara was hard put to know why she could even consider settling in with a man who was no better with them than Bob had been. Of course, the settling-in process was hardly complete, and Clara was in no hurry that it should be. Closer relations would probably only increase her impatience with him.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Call seemed only mildly concerned about the increasing dryness. Indeed, Call was cheerful, easier on the men than was his wont. He seemed relaxed and almost at ease with himself.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Where men like you are concerned it’s ninety-nine percent,” she said. “You ain’t had time to look at me close. I ain’t the prettiest anymore. The prettiest is downstairs.” “I’d still like a kiss,” he said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Newt, who had enjoyed the picnic mightily, fell into conversation with Sally and rode beside the wagon. Lorena didn’t seem concerned—she and Betsey had taken to one another at once, and were chatting happily.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“You can keep your damn opinion to yourself, if that’s what you think,” Dish said. He was as touchy as ever where Lorena was concerned.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I guess we got us a boy, Bob,” she said. The doctors had told her to talk to him—they thought it might make a difference, but Clara found that the only difference was that she got depressed. The depressing aspect of it was that it reminded her too clearly of their years together, for she had liked to chatter, and Bob never talked. She had talked at him for years and got no answers. He only spoke if money was concerned. She would talk for two hours and he would never utter a sentence. So far as conversation went, the marriage was no different than it had ever been—it was just easier for her to have her way about money, something that also struck her as sad.
>> 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
WHEN THEY FOUND Wilbarger’s man Chick and the boy who had been traveling with them, there wasn’t much left to bury. The coyotes and buzzards had had a full day at them. As they rode toward the little knoll where the buzzards swarmed, they passed a fat old badger carrying a human hand—a black hand at that. Newt was stunned—he assumed they would shoot the badger and get the hand back so it could be buried, but no one seemed concerned that the badger had someone’s hand.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Pea Eye, for example, was mostly concerned with not running out of bullets. He was extremely conservative in his choice of targets, so conservative that he often spent a whole engagement sighting at people but never pulling the trigger.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He was thinking about Lorie when the Indians broke for him. Where they had hidden he didn’t know, for he was in the center of a level plain. He first heard a little cutting sound as bullets zipped into the grass, ten yards from his horse. Later, the sound of bullets cutting grass was more distinct in his memory than the sounds of shots. Before he really heard the shots he had his horse in a dead run, heading south. It seemed to him there were ten or twelve Indians, but he was more concerned with outrunning them than with getting a count. But within minutes he knew he wasn’t going to be able to outrun them. He had pushed his horse too hard and soon was steadily losing ground.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
It became amusing to her, her power over the man. He had never spoken to her, not one word, and yet he would sit for hours, thirty yards away. It was something, what must go through men’s minds where women were concerned, to cause them to behave so strangely.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“We didn’t fight on the wrong side,” Call said. “What’s a miracle is that you stayed on the right side of the law for as long as you have. Jake’s too cowardly to be much of an outlaw, but you ain’t.” “I may be one yet,” Augustus said. “It’d be better than ending up like Tobe Walker, roping drunks for a living. Why, the man nearly cried when we left, he wanted to come so bad. Tobe used to be quick, and look at him now, fat as a gopher.” “It’s true he’s put on weight, but then Tobe was always chunky built,” Call said. On that one, though, he suspected Gus was right. Tobe had looked at them sadly when they mounted to ride away.AS FAR AS ROSCOE WAS CONCERNED, travel started bad and got worse. For one thing, it seemed he would never find Texas, a fact that preyed on his mind. From all indications it was a large place, and if he missed it he would be laughed out of Fort Smith—assuming he ever got back.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Strangely, neither Pea nor Mr. Gus was much concerned. The mules had regained their feet and stood in the shallow water, swishing their tails and looking sleepy. Call rode up about that time. He had been at the head of the herd, with Dish Boggett.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
It was a good thing Deets had offered to help. Lorena’s mare balked and wouldn’t take the water. She would go in chest- deep and then whirl and climb back up the bank, showing the whites of her eyes and trying to run. Despite herself, Lorena felt her fear rising. Once, already, the mare had nearly fallen. She might really fall, trapping Lorena beneath the green water. She tried to control her fear—she would have to get across many rivers if she was to get to San Francisco—but the mare kept flouncing and trying to turn and Lorena couldn’t help being afraid. She could see Jake on the other bank. He didn’t look very concerned.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
’Bout ain’t good enough where Comanches are concerned. You must be planning to make San Antonio in one day, since you’re starting this early,” he added, still grumpy from having been routed out of bed.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Joe didn’t share July’s discomfort with the fact that his mother seldom came to the table. When she did come it was usually to scold him, and he got scolded enough as it was—besides, he liked eating with July, or doing anything else with July. So far as he was concerned, marrying July was the best thing his mother had ever done. She scolded July as freely as she scolded him, which didn’t seem right to Joe. But then July accepted it and never scolded back, so perhaps that was the way of the world: women scolded, and men kept quiet and stayed out of the way as much as possible.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Why air you looking at me that way?” he asked. “I never tolt on you.” Lorena didn’t answer. A look was better than words, where Lippy was concerned.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇