词汇：terrible

adj. 可怕的；很糟的；令人讨厌的

相关场景

Uh, this is terrible.
>> 战争机器 War Machine (2017) Movie Script
WOMAN:
Cachet, whose stock has been steadily climbing after that terrible debut earlier this year has by now made a lot of its investors very wealthy if they were able to hold on tight during that steep drop.
>> 公正裁决 Equity (2016) Movie Script
In life till now, committed terrible crimes... All stemming from the greed of man.
>> 新少林寺 Shaolin (2011)Movie Script
INIGO:
We're really in a terrible rush.
>> 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
WESTLEY:
Now, was that so terrible?
>> The Princess Bride Movie Script
CUT TO:
THE MAN IN BLACK And the punishment is terrible, and for a moment it seems as if he is going to let go of Fezzik's windpipe and crumble, but he doesn't, he holds on.
>> The Princess Bride Movie Script
CUT TO:
THE MAN IN BLACK And the power of the charge is terrible, the pain enormous, but he clings to his grip at FEZZIK's windpipe.
>> The Princess Bride Movie Script
INIGO:
catching it again. And something terrible is written behind
>> The Princess Bride Movie Script
You... have terrible taste in music.
>> 火星救援 The Martian (2015) Movie Script
But I feel obliged to mention that setting off an explosive device... in a spacecraft is a terrible, terrible idea.
>> 火星救援 The Martian (2015) Movie Script
“Your horse but not your name?” Clara said. “You haven’t even given him your name?” “I put more value on the horse,” Call said, turning the dun. He rode off, but Clara, terrible in her anger, strode beside him.
“你的马，但不是你的名字？”克拉拉说。“你甚至还没告诉他你的名字？”“我更看重这匹马，”Call转过身来说。他骑马走了，但克拉拉气得要命，大步走到他身边。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Clara felt no terrible stab of grief when the news of Gus’s death came. The years had kept them too separate. It had beena tremendous joy to see him when he visited—to realize that he still loved her, and that she still enjoyed him. She liked his tolerance and his humor, and felt an amused pride in the thought that he still put her above other women, despite all the years since they had first courted.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I sit there alone,” she said. “I don’t want the girls to be there because I don’t want them to get death too much in their minds. I sit there and I think, I’m alone, and I can’t help this child. If it wants to die I can’t stop it. I can love it until I bleed and it won’t stop it. I hope it won’t die. I hope it can grow up and have its time. I know how I’ll feel if it does die, how long it’ll take me to care if I draw breath, much less about cooking and the girls and all the things you have to do if you’re alive.” Clara paused. In the lots a sorrel stallion whinnied. He was her favorite, but this day she appeared not to hear him.“I know if I lose one more child I’ll never care again,” she said. “I won’t. Nothing will make any difference to me again if I lose one more. It’ll ruin me, and that’ll ruin my girls. I’ll never buy another horse, or cook another meal, or take another man. I’ll starve, or else I’ll go crazy and welcome it. Or I’ll kill the doctor for not coming, or you for not sitting with me, or something. If you want to marry me, why don’t you come and sit?” July realized then that he had managed to do a terrible thing, though all he had done was go to his room in the ordinary way. It startled him to hear Clara say she could kill him over such a thing as that, but he knew from her look that it wasn’t just talk.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
After that, when he took his raw mounts out for a ride, he turned them away from the river as soon as he left the fort.JULY JOHNSON PROPOSED to Clara in the first week of the new year. He had been trying to stop himself from doing just that for months, and then he did it one day when, at her request, he brought in a sack of potatoes. It had been very cold and the potatoes were frozen—Clara wanted them in the warm kitchen to thaw. His son Martin was crawling on the kitchen floor when he came in and Clara was stirring batter for one of the cakes she couldn’t live without. As soon as he sat the frozen potatoes on the table, he did it. “Would you ever marry me?” was the way he put it, and immediately felt a terrible fool for having uttered the words. In the months he had worked for her their relations had been unchanged, and he supposed she would think him drunk or out of his head for raising such a thought.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Worse than that, he almost immediately lost the little bundle of boots and pants, shirt, all his provisions and part of his ammunition. He had reached down with one hand to try and move the rifle a little higher up on his leg, and the water sucked the bundle away and swept it far ahead of him. Pea Eye began to realize he was going to drown unless he did better than he was doing. The water pushed him under several times. He wanted badly to climb up the bank but was by no means sure he was past the Indians. Gus said to go down at least a mile, and he wasn’t sure he had gone that far. The water had a suck to it that he had constantly to fight against; to his horror he felt it sucking his pants off. He had been so disconsolate when he walked into the river that he had not buckled his belt tightly. He had nothing much in the way of hips, and the water sucked his pants down past them. The rifle sight was gouging him in the leg. He grabbed the rifle, but then went under. The dragging pants, with the rifle in one leg, were drowning him. He began to try frantically to get them off, so as to have the free use of his legs. He wanted to cuss Gus for having suggested sticking the rifle in his pants leg. He could never get it out in time to shoot an Indian, if one appeared, and it was causing him terrible aggravation. He fought to the surface again, went under, and when he came up wanted to yell for help, and then remembered there would be no one around to hear him but Indians. Then his leg was almost jerked off—he had been swept close to the bank and the dragging gun had caught in some underbrush. The bank was only a few feet away and he tried to claw over to it, but that didn’t work. While he was struggling, the pants came off and he was swept down the river backwards. One minute he could see the south bank of the river, and the next minute all he could see was water. Twice he opened his mouth to suck in air and sucked in water instead, some of which came back out his nose. His legs and feet were so numb from the cold water that he couldn’t feel them.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I don’t intend to,” Augustus said. “But some of the men might. That Irishman is delirious. He ain’t used to such dry country.” Indeed the terrible heat had driven Allen O’Brien out of his head. Now and then he would try to sing, though his tongue was swollen and his lips cracked.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“You’ll have to come back next time you draw your wages,” she said. “Pull up your pants and send in that other tadpole.” As Newt got off the bed, he remembered Lorena suddenly. This was what she had done during all those months at the Dry Bean, with any man who had drawn his wages. He felt a terrible regret that he hadn’t had the ten dollars then.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“July, I know you’re tired,” Clara said. “I expect you’re heartsick. I’m going to say a terrible thing to you. I used to be ladylike, but Nebraska’s made me blunt. I don’t think that woman wants you or the baby either. I don’t know what she does want, but she left that baby without even looking at it.” “She must have been addled,” July said. “She had a hard trip.” Clara sighed. “She had a hard trip, but she wasn’t addled,” she said. “Not every woman wants every child, and plenty of wives don’t want the husbands they took.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“If they did they’re lucky,” Augustus said. “They won’t get too many chances to see such beauties as us.” He laughed and got up to make the coffee.NEWT COULDN’T GET JAKE out of his mind—how he had smiled at the end and given him his horse. He rode the horse every third day and liked his gait so much that he soon became his favorite horse. Jake hadn’t told him what the horse’s name was, which worried Newt. A horse needed a name. Jake’s hanging had happened so quickly that it was hard to remember—it was like a terrible dream, of the kind you can only remember parts of. He remembered the shock it had been to see Jake with his hands tied, sitting on his horse with a noose around his neck. He remembered how tired Jake looked, too tired even to care that he was going to be hung. Also, nobody talked much. There should have been some discussion, it seemed to Newt. Jake might have had a good excuse for being there, but nobody even asked him for it.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
There was no shade on the bluff. He covered his face with his hat and lay back against his saddle, sweating, and ashamed of his own carelessness. He grew delirious and in his delirium would have long talks with Roscoe. He could see Roscoe’s face as plain as day. Roscoe didn’t seem to blame him for the fact that he was dead. If he himself was soon going to be dead, too, it might not matter so much. July didn’t die. His leg felt terrible, though. In the night came a rainstorm and he could do nothing but huddle under his saddle blanket. His teeth began to chatter and he couldn’t stop them. He almost wished he could go on and die, it was so uncomfortable. But in the morning the sun was hot, he soon dried out. He felt weak, but he didn’t feel as if he were dying. Mainly he had to avoid looking at his leg. It looked so bad he didn’t know what to think. If a doctor saw it he could probably just cut it off and be done with it. When he tried to bend it even a little, a terrible pain shot through him—yet he had to get down to the river or else die of thirst, even though it had just rained.
>> 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
Then the next winter both boys had died of pneumonia within a month of one another. It was a terrible winter, the ground frozen so deep there was no way to dig a grave. They had had to put the boys in the little kindling shed, wrapped tightly in wagon sheets, until winter let up enough that they could be buried. Many days Bob would come home from delivering horses to the Army—his main customer—to find Clara sitting in the icy shed by the two small bodies, tears frozen on her cheeks so hard that he would have to heat water and bathe the ice from her face. He tried to point out to her that she mustn’t do it—the weather was below zero, and the wind swept endlessly along the Platte. She could freeze to death, sitting in the kindling shed. If only I would, Clara thought—I’d be with my boys.
第二年冬天，两个男孩在一个月内相继死于肺炎。那是一个可怕的冬天，地面冻得太深，无法挖坟墓。他们不得不把男孩们放在小火棚里，用马车布紧紧包裹着，直到冬天足够暖和，他们才能被埋葬。很多天，鲍勃把马送到军队——他的主要客户——回家后，会发现克拉拉坐在两具小尸体旁的冰棚里，脸颊上的泪水冻得如此之硬，以至于他不得不加热水，把她脸上的冰洗掉。他试图向她指出，她不能这样做——天气在零度以下，风沿着普拉特河无休止地吹着。她坐在火棚里会冻死的。要是我愿意就好了，克拉拉想——我会和我的孩子们在一起。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Little Eddie giggled his nervous giggle again as he watched his brother set the dead men’s clothes on fire. Even with the coal oil it wasn’t easy—Dan had to splash them several times before he got their clothes wet enough to blaze. But finally he did, and the clothes flared up. It was a terrible sight. Jake thought he wouldn’t look, but despite himself he did. The men’s sweaty clothes were burned right off them, and their scraggly beards seared. A few rags of clothes fell off beneath their feet. The men’s pants burned off, leaving their belts and a few shreds of cloth around their waists.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
It was a sunny day, and Jake rode along happily. Sometimes he got a lucky feeling—the feeling that he was meant for riches and beautiful women and that nothing could keep him down for long. The lucky feeling came to him as he rode, and the main part of it was his sense that he was about to get free of the Suggs brothers. They were hard men, and he had made a bad choice in riding with them, but nothing very terrible had come of it, and they were almost to Dodge. It seemed to him he had slid into bad luck in Arkansas the day he accidentally shot the dentist, and now he was about to slide out of it in Kansas and resume the kind of enjoyable life he felt he deserved. Frog Lip was riding just in front of him, and he felt how nice it would be not to have to consort with such a man again. Frog Lip rode along silently, as he had the whole trip, but there was menace in his silence, and Jake was ready for lighter company—a whore, particularly. There were sure to be plenty of them in Dodge.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇