词汇：lying

adj. 说谎的

相关场景

WESTLEY:
... tr ... oooo .... luv... Everybody stares at Westley lying there on the bench.
>> The Princess Bride Movie Script
BUTTERCUP: You never sent the ships. Don't bother lying. It doesn't matter.
>> The Princess Bride Movie Script
WESTLEY:
and he's lying on the table, and he's only flesh and the chains are metal and thick, but such is his desperation it almost seems he might break them. A terrible sound comes from his throat, an incessant gasping. It keeps on coming as we finally
>> The Princess Bride Movie Script
CUT TO:
THE MAN IN BLACK stepping past the corpse, taking the blindfold and bindings off Buttercup, who notices Vizzini lying dead.
>> The Princess Bride Movie Script
THIS KID:
lying in bed, coughing. Pale, one sick cookie. Maybe he's seven or eight or nine. He holds a remote in one hand, presses it, and the video game moves a little bit. Then he's hit by another spasm of coughing, puts the remote down.
>> The Princess Bride Movie Script
I figured one of you guys kept an ASCII table lying around.
>> 火星救援 The Martian (2015) Movie Script
“Would you ever marry me?” he asked. “You never said.” “No, and I’m not about to say now,” Clara said. “Ask me in a year.” “Why in a year?” “Because you deserve to suffer for a year,” Clara said. “I suffered a year’s worth just last night, and I guess you were lying at your ease, dreaming of our wedding night.” July had no reply. He had never known a woman who spoke so boldly. He looked at her through the fog of then-breath, wishing she would at least take the coat. The cold made goosebumps on her wrists.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Them was Blood Indians,” the old man said. “It beats all that they didn’t get you. You got enough of them.” “Five is all,” Augustus said, raising himself to a sitting position. He didn’t like to talk lying down.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
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
He stumbled on, feeling that the sun would burn off what skin he had left. Several times during the afternoon he fell. He grew lightheaded and felt as if he were floating. Then his swollen feet would refuse to work, and instead of floating he would fall. Once he came to lying flat on his back in the grass, the sun burning into his eyes. He scrambled up and looked around, feeling that the herd might have walked right past him when he slept. He tried very hard to walk a straight line south, but his legs were so weak that he kept wobbling off course.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Pea Eye at once started walking as fast as he could. Though it had stopped raining, it was still cloudy, and he could not see one star or the moon or, for that matter, anything either on heaven or earth. The awful thought struck him that, rolling around and around in the water, he might even have confused north and south and crawled up the wrong bank. He might be walking north, in which case he was as good as dead, but he couldn’t stop to worry about it. He had to move. He had lost his pack and his gun in the river, and as soon as the river sank to being a normal stream again, they would all be lying in the creek bed, in plain sight. If the Indians found them they would know he was gone, and that Gus was alone, which would make things hot for Gus. If they were in a tracking mood it would also make things hot for him. They had horses and could run him down in a matter of hours. The faster he traveled, the better chance he had.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
She covered Bob with a clean sheet and went downstairs. Lorena was teaching the girls to play cards. They were playing poker for buttons. Clara stood in the shadows, wishing she didn’t have to interrupt their fun. Why interrupt it for a death that couldn’t be helped? And yet death was not something you could ignore. It had its weight. It was a dead man lying upstairs, not a man who was sick. It seemed to her she had better not form the practice of ignoring death. If she tried it, death would find a way to answer back—it would take another of her loved ones, to remind her to respect it.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
When Dish moved, Newt saw Deets. He was in the process of yawning when he saw him. Instead of springing up, he lay back down and pulled his blanket tighter. He opened his eyes and looked, and then shut them tightly. He felt angry at the men for having talked so loud that they had awakened him. He wished they would all die, if that was the best they could do. He wanted to go back to sleep. He wanted it to be one of those dreams that you wake up from just as the dream gets bad. He felt that was probably what it was. When he opened his eyes again he wouldn’t see Deets’s body lying on the wagon sheet a few yards away.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
It was as if he were looking through water—as if he had come back to the old river and were lying on the bottom, looking at Mr. Gus through the shallow brown water. Mr. Gus’s head had grown larger, was floating off. It was rising toward the sky like the moon. He could barely see it and then couldn’t see it at all, but the waters parted for a moment and he saw a blade or two of grass, close to his eye; then to his relief the brown waters came back and covered him again, deep this time and warm.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Late that afternoon, while the cowboys were lying around resting, a wind sprang up from the west. From the first, it was as hot as if it were blowing over coals. By the time Call was ready to start the herd again, the wind had risen and they faced a full-fledged sandstorm. It blew so hard that the cattle were reluctant to face it.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
When he unsaddled the mare, one of Augustus’s pigs grunted at him. Both of them were lying under the wagon, sharing the shade with Lippy, who was sound asleep. The shoat was a large pig now, but travel had kept him thin. Call felt it was slightly absurd having pigs along on a cattle drive, but they had proven good foragers as well as good swimmers. They got across the rivers without any help.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Me and Mary,” Buf said. “I get the ones that like ’em fat, and she gets the one’s that like ’em skinny. And if it’s a feller who likes ’em either way it’s just a matter of who ain’t busy at the time.” She was still lying naked on the bed.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
It was amazing that a few swallows of liquid could produce such a sensation. It was silly, but after a while he felt like lying down and hugging his stomach and hugging the earth, to make sure he didn’t float off.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The girls came out and chattered behind him for a while, but he paid them no mind. He had a headache and thought he ought to lie down, except that lying down usually made his headaches worse.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The window was tiny and the cell still mostly dark, but Elmira could make out a man lying on a little bare bunk. He had his arm over his eyes and at first she doubted it was Dee—if so, he had put on weight, which wouldn’t be like Dee. He prided himself on being slim and quick.
>> 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
He had been lying flat down, for he felt very weary, but he raised up on his elbow to take another swig from the jug, and he and little Eddie saw the three men at the same moment: three men with leveled rifles, standing on the riverbank with the sun at a blinding angle right behind them. Jake had taken off his gun belt—he couldn’t rest comfortably with it on.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Jake was lying on his saddle blanket feeling drunk and depressed. Dan Suggs had shot the old man driving the wagon at a hundred yards’ distance, without even speaking to him. Dan had been hiding in the trees along the creek, so the old man died without even suspecting that he was in danger. He only had about thirty dollars on him, but he had four jugs of whiskey, and they were divided equally, although Dan claimed he ought to have two for doing the shooting. Jake had been drinking steadily, hoping he would get so drunk the Suggses would just go off and leave him. But he knew they wouldn’t. For one thing, he had eight hundred dollars on him, won in poker games in Fort Worth, and if Dan Suggs didn’t know it, he certainly suspected it. They wouldn’t leave him without robbing him, or rob him without killing him, so for the time being his hope was to ride along and not rile Dan.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I was born on the Hudson, you know,” he said, a little later. “I fully expected to die on it, but I guess the dern Arkansas will have to do.” “I wish you’d stop talking about your own death,” Augustus said in a joking tone. “It ain’t genteel.” Wilbarger looked at him and chuckled, a chuckle that brought up blood. “Why, it’s because I ain’t genteel that I’mbleeding to death beside the Arkansas,” he said. “I could have been a lawyer, like my brother, and be in New York right now, eating oysters.” He didn’t speak again until after it was full dark. Newt stood over with the horses, trying not to cry. He had scarcely known Mr. Wilbarger, and had found him blunt at first, but the fact that he was lying there on a bloody blanket dying so calmly affected him more than he had thought it would. The emptiness of the plains as they darkened was so immense that that affected him too, and a sadness grew in him until tears began to spill from his eyes. Captain Call and Mr. Gus sat by the dying man. Deets was on the riverbank, a hundred yards away, keeping watch. And Pea Eye stood with Newt, by the horses, thinking his own thoughts.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He raised his head again. “Still riding that mare, I see,” he said. “If I could have talked you out of her I probably wouldn’t be lying here shot. She’d have smelled the damn horsethieves. I do think she’s a beauty.” “How many were there?” Call asked. “Or could you get a count?” “I expect it was Dan Suggs and his two brothers, and a bad nigger they ride with,” Wilbarger said. “I think I hit the nigger.” “I don’t know the Suggses,” Call said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇