词汇：barely

adv. 仅仅，勉强；几乎不；公开地；贫乏地

相关场景

ANGLE ON THE GROUP Who can barely watch the destruction.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
The sun is barely coming up, and only a few shafts of light are illuminating the darkness. A figure can be seen sitting cross-legged in front of the door.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
(SOME IDEAS, NOT IN ORDER) Competitors warming up (wall front stretch, very high; one guy kicking another in the head – tap, tap, tap; two man routine practicing – another one jumps in?; two beautiful girls sparring; crowd assembling; group of kids waiting – call comes over public address system, they run off; stand outside selling high tech equipment; different styles of fighter's clothes – camo, stars & stripes, "headhunter"; stern 9 year old girl doing kata; two toddlers barely seen through their safety equipment fighting furiously; two twins doing identical kata; breaking; etc.) ANGLE ON DREW AND KWAN Walk into the area – Drew is dressed in the ill-fitting handmade suit by Mrs. Rodriguez. People recognize him as he walks past.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
INIGO:
(barely able to speak) It just is not fair.
>> The Princess Bride Movie Script
You'd be eyeballing the intercept using a thrust vector you can barely control.
>> 火星救援 The Martian (2015) Movie Script
No. I can barely see the Hab.
>> 火星救援 The Martian (2015) Movie Script
Call had begun to think of Gus, and the promise he had made. It would soon be spring, and he would have to be going if he were to keep the promise, which of course he must. Yet the ranch had barely been started, and it was hard to know who to leave in command. The question had been in his mind all winter. There seemed to be no grave danger from Indians or anything else. Who would best keep things going? Soupy was excellent when set a task, but had no initiativeand was unused to planning. The men were all independent to a fault and constantly on the verge of fist fights because they fancied that someone had attempted to put himself above them in some way. Pea Eye was clearly the senior man, but Pea Eye had contentedly taken orders for thirty years; to expect him to suddenly start giving them was to expect the impossible.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The third morning he could barely make himself move. His feet were worse than ever, the plains ahead still endless and empty. His eyes ached from looking so hard for the line of the Yellowstone, but he still couldn’t see it.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Pea was shocked to see that Gus didn’t look himself. His face was drawn and his hands unsteady. He was chewing on some jerky he had pulled out of a saddlebag, but it seemed he barely had the strength to eat.
看到格斯没有看自己，豌豆很震惊。他的脸被拉长了，双手不稳。他嚼着从马鞍袋里拿出来的肉干，但似乎几乎没有力气吃。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Cut,” he said to Pea. “Pretend I’m snake-bit.” Pea went white. He hated even looking at wounds. The thought of cutting Gus made him want to be sick, but the fact that he had a sharp knife helped. He barely touched the skin and the cut was made. The bloody tip of the arrow pokedthrough. Gus shoved the tip on out and then fainted. Pea Eye had to pull the arrow on through. It was as hard as pulling a bolt out of a board, but he got it out.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Just because it’s all you know don’t mean it’s all you’d enjoy,” Augustus said. “You had a chance at a fine widow right there in Lonesome Dove, as I recall.” Pea Eye was sorry the subject of widows had come up. He had nearly forgotten the Widow Cole and the day he had helped her take the washing off the line. He didn’t know why he hadn’t forgotten it completely—he surely had forgotten more important things. Yet there it was, and from time to time it shoved into his brain. If he had married some widow his brain would probably have been so full of such things that he would have no time to think, or even to keep his knife sharp.“Ever meet any of the mountain men?” Augustus asked. “They got up in here and took the beavers.” “Well, I met old Kit,” Pea Eye said. “You ought to remember. You was there.” “Yes, I remember,” Augustus said. “I never thought much of Kit Carson.” “Why, what was wrong with Kit Carson?” Pea Eye asked. “They say he could track anything.” “Kit was vain,” Augustus said. “I won’t tolerate vanity in a man, though I will in a woman. If I had gone north in my youth I might have got to be a mountain man, but I took to riverboating instead. The whores on them riverboats in my day barely wore enough clothes to pad a crutch.” As they rode north they saw more buffalo, mostly small bunches of twenty or thirty. The third day north of the Yellowstone they killed a crippled buffalo calf and dined on its liver. In the morning, when they left, there were a number of buzzards and two or three prairie wolves hanging around, waiting for them to leave the carcass.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Even then, it was all they could do to throw the bull, and it took Po Campo over two hours to sew the huge flap of skin back in place. When it was necessary to turn the bull from one side to another, it took virtually the whole crew, plus five horses and ropes, to keep him from getting up again. Then, when the bull did roll, he nearly rolled on Needle Nelson, who hated him anyway and didn’t approve of all the doctoring. When the bull nearly rolled on him Needle retreated to the wagon and refused to come near him again. “I was rooting for the bear,” he said. “A bull like that is going to get somebody sooner or later, and it might be me.” The next day the bull was so sore he could barely hobble, and Call feared the doctoring had been in vain. The bull fell so far behind the herd that they decided to leave him. He fell several miles behind in the course of the day. Call kept looking back, expecting to see buzzards in the sky—if the bull finally dropped, they would feast.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
For the next few days everyone was tense, expecting Indian attack. Several men took alarm at the sight of what turned out to be sagebrush or low bushes. No one could sleep at night, and even those hands who were not on guard spent much of the night checking and rechecking their ammunition. The Irishman was afraid to sing on night duty for fear of leading the Indians straight to them. In fact, night herding became highly unpopular with everyone, and instead of gambling for money men began to gamble over who took what watch. The midnight watch was the most unpopular. No one wanted to leave the campfire: the men who came in from the watches did so with profound relief, and the men who went out assumed they were going to their deaths. Some almost cried. Needle Nelson trembled so that he could barely get his foot in his stirrup. Jasper Fant sometimes even got off and walked when he was on the far side of the herd, reasoning that the Indians would be less likely to spot him if he was on foot.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Montana better not be nothing like this,” he said. “If it is, I’m going back and dig up that goddamn Jake Spoon and scatter his bones.” They rode all night, all the next day and into the following night. Augustus just rode, his mind mostly blank, but Call was sick with self-reproach. All his talk of being ready, all his preparation—and then he had just walked up to an Indian camp and let Josh Deets get killed. He had known better. They all knew better. He had known men killed by Indian boys no older than ten, and by old Indian women who looked as if they could barely walk. Any Indian might kill you: that was the first law of the Rangers. And yet they had just walked in, and now Josh Deets was gone. He had never called the man by his first name, but now he remembered Gus’s foolish sign and how Deets had been troubled by it. Deets had finally concluded that his first name was Josh—that was the way he would think of him from then on, Call decided. He had been Josh Deets. It deepened his sense of reproach that, only a few days before, Josh Deets had been so thoughtful as to lead his horse through the sandstorm, recognizing that he himself was played out.
>> 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
“They were just having a picnic,” Augustus said. “We had a picnic the other day without nobody shooting at us.” “We can leave them two or three horses,” Call said. “I just don’t want to lose that sorrel they were about to kill.” In the tribe’s flight a child had been forgotten—a little boy barely old enough to walk. He stood near the neck of the dead horse, crying, trying to find his mother. The tribe huddled in front of the tepees, silent. The only sound, for a moment, was the sound of the child’s crying.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The men had had the last of Po Campo’s water that morning, barely enough to wet their tongues. Po Campo doled it out with severity, careful to see that no one got more than his share. Though the old man had walked the whole distance, using his ax-handle cane, he seemed not particularly tired.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
But the storm and the long drive the day before had taken its toll in energy. By dawn, half the men were asleep in their saddles. They wanted to stop, but again Call pushed on; he knew they had lost ground, and was not going to stop just because the men were sleepy. All morning he rode through the herd, encouraging the men to push the cattle. He was not sure how far they had come, but he knew they still had a full day to go. Lack of water was beginning to tell on the horses, and the weaker cattle were barely stumbling along.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Oh, Woodrow ain’t,” Augustus said. “He can barely stand to be within fifty yards of you.” “I know that,” Clara said. “He’s been stiff all day because I won’t bargain away my horses. My price is my price. But that boy’s his, and don’t you tell me he ain’t. They walk alike, they stand alike, and they look alike.” “I expect you’re right,” Augustus said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“No, ma’am,” he said, in a voice she could barely hear. At times, to her intense irritation, he called her “ma’am,” usually when he was too upset to think.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“You dern cowboys are too fond of your horses,” Dixon said. “I’m fair tired of being told your ponies ain’t for sale.” “This one ain’t, for damn sure, and anyway you won’t be in no shape to ride when I get through with you,” Dish said, barely controlling his voice. “I’d hate to think I’d let a man spit on me and then ride off.” Dixon spat again. This time, since Dish was facing him, the juice hit him square in the breast. Dixon and the soldiers all laughed.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Cholo stood up. It was clear he and Clara were contemplating some work. July knew he ought to offer to help, but his legs would barely carry him to the table. He couldn’t understand it. He had long since been over his jaundice, and yet he had no strength.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He turned back, racing for the ranch. He wore the horse half down, and he remembered it was a borrowed horse, so he slowed up. By the time he got back to Clara’s he was not racing at all. He seemed to have no strength, and his head hurt again. He was barely able to unsaddle; instead of going right to the house, he sat down behind the saddle shed and wept.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Oh, get the wagon, we’ll find the way,” she said. “There’s a road, I guess.” She was out of patience with men. They were great ones for asking questions. Even Zwey asked them, and he could barely talk.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
WHEN ELMIRA’S FEVER finally broke she was so weak she could barely turn her head on the pillow. The first thing she saw was Zwey, looking in the window of the doctor’s little house. It was raining, but Zwey stood there in his buffalo coat, looking in at her.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇