词汇：clean

adj. 清洁的，干净的；清白的

相关场景

They won't be clean for long, with the hands he'll shake.
>> 美国往事Once Upon a Time in America Movie Script
Jimmy "Clean Hands" in business with us?
>> 美国往事Once Upon a Time in America Movie Script
You know, Jimmy "Clean Hands. " He respects us.
>> 美国往事Once Upon a Time in America Movie Script
Our hands have always been and will continue to remain clean.
>> 美国往事Once Upon a Time in America Movie Script
You got pots to clean!
>> 美国往事Once Upon a Time in America Movie Script
INIGO:
Unless the enemy has studied his Agrippa- And now, with the grace of an Olympian, Inigo flies off the perch, somersaults clean over the Man In Black's head, and lands facing his opponent.
>> The Princess Bride Movie Script
“It ain’t much, but it’s more than we hear from you around here,” Clara said. “Try telling me when to clean something, just for practice, once in a while. At least I’d get to hear a sound out of your throat.” Again, she refused the coat, though it was clear to him that she was in a somewhat better temper. She went over and rubbed the stallion’s neck for ten minutes before going back to the house.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Well, I told Roscoe when to clean the jail,” July said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I understand your attachment to your own appendages,” he said, opening the bandage. He winced when he looked at the wound, but kept working. “I don’t want to cut your other leg off bad enough to get shot in the process. However, you’ll die if you don’t reconsider. That’s a plain fact.” “Go buy me some more whiskey,” Augustus said. “There’s money in my pants. Is that girl playing the piano a whore?” “Yes, her name is Dora,” the doctor said. “Consumptive, I’m afraid. She’ll never see Philadelphia again.” He began to wrap the leg in a clean bandage.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Pea had forgotten it. Sure enough, the front of his shirt was soaked with blood. He took it off and Augustus examined the wound, which was clean. The bullet had gone right through.
>> 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
“It is, too,” Betsey insisted. “If he’s got white hair he could die any time.” Lorena found that she didn’t think about Gus all that much. She was glad she had stayed at Clara’s. For almost the first time in her life she had a decent bed in a clean room and tasteful meals and people around who were kind to her. She liked having a whole room to herself, alone. Of course, she had had a room in Lonesome Dove, but it hadn’t been the same. Men could come into that room—letting them in was a condition of having it. But she didn’t have to let anyone into her room in Clara’s house, though often she-did let Betsey, who suffered from nightmares, into it. One night Betsey stumbled in, crying—Clara was out of the house, taking one of the strange walks she liked to take. Lorena was surprised and offered to go find Clara, but Betsey wasn’t listening. She came into the bed like a small animal and snuggled into Lorena’s arms. Lorena let her stay the night, and from then on, when Betsey had a nightmare, she came to Lorena’s room and Lorena soothed her.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Reckon we ought to shoot?” Augustus said. “Hell, this outfit will run clean back to the Red River if this keeps up.” “If you shoot, you might hit the bull,” Call said. “Then we’d have to fight the bear ourselves, and I ain’t sure we can stop him. That’s a pretty mad bear.” Po Campo came up, holding his shotgun, Newt a few steps behind him. Most of the men had been thrown and were watching the battle tensely, clutching their guns.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
But through the years they had been so lucky with visitors that Clara had gradually ceased to jump and take fright at the sight of a rider on the horizon. Their tragedies had come from weather and sickness, not attackers. But the habit of looking close had not left her, and she turned with a clean sheet in one hand and watched out her window as the horsemen dipped off the far slopes and disappeared behind the brush along the river.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Needle Nelson and Soupy Jones rode in next—they looked no different from Jasper, but at least their horses were clean.
>> 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 was a large man, over two hundred pounds, and it took all her strength to move him and clean him every day—he had no control over bowels or bladder. Day after day Clara removed the soiled bedclothes, stuffing them in a washtub she filled beforehand from the cistern. She never let the girls see or help her with the operation; she supposed Bob would die in time, and she didn’t want his daughters to feel disgust for him, if she could prevent it. She only sent them in once a day to bathe his face, hoping that the sight of them would bring him out of his state.“Is Daddy going to die?” Betsey often asked. She had been only one when Johnny, her last brother, had died, and had no memories of death, just a great curiosity about it.
他是个大块头，体重超过两百磅，她每天都要用尽全力来移动他和清洁他——他无法控制自己的肠道或膀胱。克拉拉日复一日地脱下脏兮兮的床上用品，把它们塞进她事先从水箱里装满的洗衣盆里。她从不让女孩们看到或帮助她做手术；她以为鲍勃会及时死去，如果她能阻止的话，她不想让他的女儿们对他感到厌恶。她每天只派她们来洗一次他的脸，希望看到她们能让他摆脱这种状态。“爸爸会死吗？”贝茜经常问。当她最后一个哥哥约翰尼去世时，她是唯一一个，对死亡没有记忆，只是对它非常好奇。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Why, Deets, do you think I’d shoot you?” Jake asked, though he knew too well where he stood, and if he had moved quicker would have shot, whatever the cost. A clean bullet was better than a scratchy rope, and his old partners could shoot clean when they wanted to.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Them punkin’ rollers,” Dan Suggs said contemptuously. “If they was to follow we’d thin them out in a hurry.” Jake fell into a gloom—it seemed he could do nothing right. He hardly asked for more in life than a clean saloon to gamble in and a pretty whore to sleep with, that and a little whiskey to drink. He had no desire to be shooting people—evenduring his years in the Rangers he seldom actually drew aim at anyone, although he cheerfully threw off shots in the direction of the enemy. He certainly didn’t consider himself a killer: in battle, Call and Gus were capable of killing ten to his one.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“How’ll we travel?” she asked. “I ain’t much good at riding horses.” Big Zwey didn’t respond for about a minute. Elmira was about to lose patience when he brushed his mouth with the back of his hand, as if to clean it.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Then why do you keep running around with this bunch of half-outlaws you call Texas Rangers? There’s men in this troop who won’t piss unless you point to a spot. But when a little thing like Maggie, who ain’t the strongest person in the world, gets a need for you, you head for the river and clean your gun.” “Well, I might need my gun,” Call said. But he was aware that Gus always got the better of their arguments.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I wish I could clean up first,” Newt said, acutely conscious of how dirty he was.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I won’t have no pigs around,” Louisa said. “Too smart. I won’t bother with animals I have to outwit. I’d rather just farm.” True to her word, Louisa served up a meal of corn bread, washed down with well water. The cabin was roomy and clean, but there was not much food in it. Roscoe was puzzled as to how Louisa could keep going with nothing but corn bread in her. It occurred to him that he had not seen a milk cow anywhere, so evidently she had even dispensed with such amenities as milk and butter.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Fortunately the pigs weren’t very determined. They soon stopped, but Memphis couldn’t be slowed until he had run himself out. After that he was worthless for the rest of the day. In the afternoon, stopping to drink at a little creek, he bogged to his knees. Roscoe had to get off and whip him on the butt five or six times with a lariat rope before he managed to lunge out of the mud, by which time Roscoe himself was covered with it. He also lost one boot, sucked so far down in the mud he could barely reach it. He hadn’t brought an extra pair of boots, mainly because he didn’t own one, and was forced to waste most of the afternoon trying to clean the mud off the ones he had.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The river was green and the water cold underneath the surface. She waded in and stood chest-deep, letting the water wash away the layers of dust and sweat. As she was wading out, feeling clean and light, she got a scare: a big snapping turtle sat on the bank right where she had entered the river. It was big as a tub and so ugly Lorena didn’t want to get near it. She waded upstream, and just as she got out heard a shot—Jake was shooting his pistol at the turtle. He walked down to the water, probably just because he liked to see her naked.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇