词汇：post

n. 岗位；邮件；标杆

相关场景

The post TREMBLES with every strike.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
A monk, the DRILL SERGEANT (hereafter D.S.), is standing in front of a wooden post, driving his hand into the wood.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
Please excuse me... Your gold mines dried up Yeah There's still a little matter of the $ 150,000 loan, I've discreetly left off the books Your can't even meet the payroll for your coolies Damn your smell like a pail of dung Here, try some of these Maybe it'll help your breath Put a $ 100,000 is in the safe I'll take care of everything else What? Another $ 100,000 Do as I say Keep your faces covered, I want your identities kept secret I'd mark pretty face on every post office and board... besides the Mississippi Hell I want to be famous Shut up!
>> 西域雄狮 Once Upon a Time in China and America Movie Script
Seven, he forgot who he is Showing him the post has got no use Are you alright?
>> 西域雄狮 Once Upon a Time in China and America Movie Script
Notice that we both know this post?
>> 西域雄狮 Once Upon a Time in China and America Movie Script
I did not! I was only nodding Go post these Lost and Found bills on the street Yes Ma'am Let's go, gluey-mouth Post one here Post one here!
>> 西域雄狮 Once Upon a Time in China and America Movie Script
It says, "Underworld joins strikers in brutal battle. " But The Post, they liked it.
>> 美国往事Once Upon a Time in America Movie Script
Congress won't reimburse us for a paper clip... if I put a dead astronaut on the front page of The Washington Post.
>> 火星救援 The Martian (2015) Movie Script
“You’re not much of anything, but you could be,” she said. “I know you’re smart, because Martin is, and he didn’t get it all from your poor wife. But a fence post is more useful generally than you are.” July took it as a criticism of his work, which he felt he had done scrupulously.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Didn’t get no count,” Deets said. “Not many. Couldn’t be many and live out here.” “I say we wait for night and steal the nags back,” Augustus said. “It’s too hot to fight. Steal ’em back and let the red man chase the white for a while.” “If we wait for night we might lose half the horses,” Call said. “They’ll probably post a better guard than we had.” “I don’t want to argue with you in this heat,” Augustus said. “If you want to go now, okay. We’ll just ride in and massacre them.” “Didn’t see many men,” Deets said. “Mostly women and children. They’re real poor, Captain.” “What do you mean, real poor?” “Means they’re starving,” Deets said. “They done cut up one horse.” “My God,” Augustus said. “You mean they stole them horses for meat?” That proved to be the case. They carefully approached the draw where the camp was and saw the whole little tribe gathered around the dead horse. There were only some twenty Indians, mostly women, children and old men. Call saw only two braves who looked to be of fighting age, and they were no more than boys. The Indians had pulled the dead horse’s guts out and were hacking them into slices and eating them. Usually there were dogs around an Indian camp, but there were no dogs around this time.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Just stand there like a post,” Buf said. “Mary’s quick, especially with tadpoles. She’ll get you in a minute.” Jimmy stood where he was, looking forlorn.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Clara saw at once that he had sustained some blow. When she saw him come back without even the mail, it had been on her tongue to say something about his poor memory. She and the girls hungered for the magazines and catalogues that came in the mail, and it was a disappointment to have someone ride right past the post office and not pick them up. But July looked so low that she refrained from speaking. At the supper table she tried several times to get a word or two out of him, but he just sat there, scarcely even touching his food. He had been ravenous since coming off the plains—so whatever the blow was, it was serious.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Bad men would have a better team,” Clara said. “Find any colts?” Cholo shook his head. His hair was white—Clara had never been able to get his age out of him, but she imagined he was seventy-five at least, perhaps eighty. At night by the fire, with the work done, Cholo wove horsehair lariats. Clara loved to watch the way his fingers worked. When a horse died or had to be killed, Cholo always saved its mane and tail for his ropes. He could weave them of rawhide too, and once had made one for her of buckskin, although she didn’t rope. Bob had been puzzled by the gift—“Clara couldn’t rope a post,” he said—but Clara was not puzzled at all. She had been very pleased. It was a beautiful gift; Cholo had the finest manners. She knew he appreciated her as she appreciated him. That was the year she bought him the coat. Sometimes, reading her magazines, she would look up and see Cholo weaving a rope and imagine that if she ever did try to write a story she would write it about him. It would be very different from any of the stories she read in the English magazines.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“That wagon won’t be here for an hour,” Clara said. “Go see about your pa. His fever comes up in the afternoon. Wet a rag and wipe his face.” Both girls stood looking at her silently. They hated to go into the sickroom. Both of them had bright-blue eyes, their legacy from Bob, but their hair was like hers and they were built like her, even to the knobby knees. Bob had been kicked in the head by a mustang he was determined to break, against Clara’s advice. She had seen it happen—he had the mare snubbed to a post with a heavy rope and only turned his back on her for a second. But the mare struck with her front feet, quick as a snake. Bob had bent over to pick up another rope and the kick had caught him right back of the ear. The crack had sounded like a shot. The mare pawed him three or four times before Clara could reach him and drag him out of the way, but those blows had been minor. The kick behind the ear had almost killed him. They had been so sure he would die that they even dug the grave, up on the knoll east of the house where their three boys were buried: Jim and Jeff and Johnny, the three deaths Clara felt had turned her heart to stone: she hoped for stone, anyway, for stone wouldn’t suffer from such losses.
“那辆马车要一个小时才能到，”克拉拉说。“去看看你爸。他下午发烧了。把抹布弄湿，擦他的脸。”两个女孩都站在那里默默地看着她。他们讨厌进病房。他们俩都有一双明亮的蓝眼睛，这是鲍勃留给他们的遗产，但他们的头发和她的一样，他们的身材也和她一样，甚至到了膝盖的小瘤。鲍勃违背克拉拉的建议，被一支他决心要打破的野马踢到头上。她亲眼目睹了这一切——他用一根沉重的绳子把母马拖到柱子上，只转过身去看了她一秒钟。但母马用前脚猛踢，速度像蛇一样快。鲍勃弯下腰去捡另一根绳子，一脚踢到了他的耳朵后面。裂缝听起来像枪声。母马抓了他三四次，克拉拉才够到他，把他拖开，但这些打击都很小。耳朵后面的踢腿几乎要了他的命。他们非常确定他会死，甚至在埋葬他们三个儿子的房子东边的小丘上挖了坟墓：吉姆、杰夫和约翰尼，克拉拉的三次死亡让她的心变成了石头：不管怎样，她希望石头，因为石头不会遭受这样的损失。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The clerk shook his head. “Not so far as I know,” he said. “He’s up in Ogallala or Deadwood or somewhere, where there’s lots of whores and not too much law. I imagine he’s got five or six whores in his string right now. Of course he could have died, but he’s my nephew and I ain’t heard no news to that effect.” “Thank you for the loan of the pencil,” July said. He turned and walked out. He went straight to the livery stable and got his new horse, whose name was Pete. If Elmira wasn’t in Dodge she might be in Abilene, so he might as well start. But he didn’t start. He rode halfway out of town and then went back to the third saloon from the post office and inquired about the woman named Jennie. They said she had moved to another bar, up the street—a cowboy was even kind enough to point out the bar. A herd had been sold that morning and was being loaded onto boxcars. July rode over and watched the work a while—slow work and made slower by the cattle’s long horns, which kept getting tangled with one another as the cattle were being forced up the narrow loading chute. The cowboys yelled and popped their quirts, and the horses behaved expertly, but despite that, it seemed to take a long time to fill a boxcar.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
But he hadn’t died, and eventually he turned and went back to the post office, which was empty except for an elderly clerk with a white mustache.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He walked along the dusty street for a few minutes, wiping the tears out of his eyes with his shirtsleeve. One or two men observed him curiously. It was obvious that he was upset, but no one said anything to him. He remembered walking into the post office in Fort Worth and getting the letter that told him about Ellie. Since then, it had all been puzzlement and pain. He felt that in most ways it would have been better if he had died on the plains with the rest of them. He was tired of wandering and looking.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
But to his surprise, the minute he stepped inside the door of the post office his optimism gave way in a flash to bitter depression. In trying to think of what he would say in his letter he remembered all that had happened. Roscoe was dead, Joe was dead, the girl was dead, and Ellie not found—maybe she too was dead. All he had to report was death and failure. At the thought of poor Roscoe, gutted and left under a little pile of rocks on the prairie, his eyes filled with tears and he had to turn and walk back out the door to keep from embarrassing himself.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The first thing July did was buy a decent horse. He went to the post office, for he felt he owed Fort Smith an explanation as to why he had not come back. For some reason he felt a surge of optimism as he walked down the street to the post office. Now that he had survived the plains it seemed possible that he could find Ellie after all. He had lost all interest in catching Jake Spoon; he just wanted to find his wife and go home. If Peach didn’t like it—and she wouldn’t—she would just have to lump it. If Ellie wasn’t in Dodge she would probably be in Abilene. He would soon catch up with her.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I guess you don’t remember me,” Augustus said, falling in beside him. “I’m Captain McCrae. We shot at one another all afternoon once, up on the Brazos. You was in one thicket and me and Captain Call was in the next one. We pruned the post oaks with all that shooting, and then we stuck you in jail and you crawled right out again.” “I don’t like you much,” Aus Frank said, still trundling. “Put me in the goddamn jail.” “Well, why’d you rob that bank?” Augustus said. “It ain’t Christian to rob your neighbors. It ain’t Christian to hold a grudge, neither. Wasn’t you born into the Christian religion?” “No,” Aus Frank said. “What do you want?” “A white girl,” Augustus said. “Pretty one. An outlaw carried her off. You may know him. His name is Blue Duck.” Aus Frank stopped the wheelbarrow. He needed to spit and leaned over and spat a large mouthful of tobacco juice directly into the hole of a red-ant bed. The ants, annoyed, scurried about in all directions.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Wilbarger started at once and loped several miles without speaking. Joe loped with him. The country was open, lightly spotted with elm and post oak. They came to a fair-sized stream and Wilbarger stopped to water his horse.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Joe was sitting on the board sidewalk outside the post office, watching the steady stream of buggies, wagons and horseback riders go by.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“It ought to be a hanging crime for the post office to work so slow,” the impatient fellow said. “I could have carried this letter by hand in less time than this.” Just as he said it, the old man found July’s letter under a mail bag. “Some fool set a mailbag on it,” he said, handing it to July.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
At the post office July debated several more minutes and finally took his letter in, purchased a stamp and mailed it. The postal clerk was an old man wearing eyeglasses. He scrutinized the address on the letter and then looked at July.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
It seemed to Joe that they rode past about fifty saloons, looking for the post office. Fort Smith only had three saloons and one livery stable, whereas Fort Worth had a big wagon yard and stores galore. They even met a small herd of wild-looking longhorn cattle being driven right through the streets by four equally wild-looking cowboys. The cattle, for all their wild looks, behaved so well that they didn’t get to see the cowboys actually rope one, a sight Joe longed to see.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇