词汇：habit

n. 习惯，习性；嗜好

相关场景

He knows, once you see that sh*t-hole he's gettin' dropped like a bad habit.
>> Good Will Hunting (1997)Movie Script
Little things I do out of habit.
>> Good Will Hunting (1997)Movie Script
Following current events in the news is a good habit.
>> questions
Consistency Rewards, Build a habit of daily engagement by maintaining streaks through regular sign-ins, reinforcing your commitment to learning and ensuring steady language development.
一致性奖励，通过定期登录保持连续性来培养日常参与的习惯，加强你对学习的承诺，并确保稳定的语言发展。
>> 2024-10 The metamorphosis from anxious wife
- It's such a filthy habit.
>> 闻香识女人Scent of a Woman 1992 Movie Script
STEVE ROGERS:
Sorry. Force of habit. [Throws his jacket, then sits down on another chair, opposite Natasha.]
>> Avengers: Endgame 复仇者联盟4：终局之战 Movie Script
A habit born of a long contemplation of eternity.
>> The Godfather: Part III 教父 3 1990 Movie Script
Motivation is what gets you started. Habit is what keeps you going.
>> 吉米·罗恩(Jim Rohn)
Feeling that it was pointless, but acting from force of habit, they pulled the two stuck heifers from the Milk River mud.IN MILES CITY, Call found that the storage of Augustus’s remains had been bungled. Something had broken into the shed and knocked the coffin off the barrels. In the doctor’s opinion it had probably been a wolverine, or possibly a cougar. The coffin had splintered and the varmint had run off with the amputated leg. The mistake wasn’t discovered until after a blizzard had passed through, so of course the leg had not been recovered.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
When he mounted, the feeling loosened a bit and he fell back into the habit he had vowed to discard—the habit of leading.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
That night, camping alone, he dreamed of Gus. Frequently he woke up to hear Gus’s voice, so real he looked around expecting to see him. Sometimes he would scarcely fall asleep before he dreamed of Gus, and it was even beginning to happen in the daytime if he rode along not paying much attention to his surroundings. Gus dead invaded his thoughts as readily as he had when he was alive. Usually he came to josh and tease, much as he had in life. “Just because you’ve got to the top of the country, you don’t have to stop,” he said, in one dream. “Turn east and keep going until you hit Chicago.” Call didn’t want to turn east, but neither did he particularly want to stop. Gus’s death, and the ones before it, had caused him to lose his sense of purpose to such an extent that he scarcely cared from one day to the next what he was doing. Hekept on going north because it had become a habit. But they had reached the Milk River and winter was coming, so he had to break the habit or else lose most of the men and probably the cattle too.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Yet he hated waiting almost as much as he hated the traveling. His habit had been to go and meet whatever needed to be met, not to wait idly for what might approach.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
But he saw no buzzards, and a week after the fight the bull was in the herd again. No one had seen him return, but one morning he was there. He had only one horn and one eye, and Po Campo’s sewing job was somewhat uneven, the folds of skin having separated in two or three places—but the bull was ornery as ever, bellowing at the cowboys when they came too close. He resumed his habit of keeping well to the front of the herd. His wounds only made him more irascible; the hands gave him a wide berth.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Call slept a distance out of camp, as was his habit. He knew the men were in a good mood, for he could hear them singing most of the night. Now that he had the leisure to sleep, he found he couldn’t, much. He had always thought his energies equal to any situation, but he had begun to have doubts. A tiredness clung to his bones, but not a tiredness that produced sleep. He felt played out, and wished they were already in Montana. There were only a few hundred miles left, but it seemed farther to him than all the distance they had come.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Though he had only glanced at her hands, Clara picked up the glance, displaying her old habit of being able to read his mind.
>> 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
The news about Joe didn’t touch her. She had never thought much about Joe. He had come when she had other things to worry about and she had never got in the habit of worrying about him. He gave her less trouble than July, though. At least he had sense enough to figure out she didn’t want to be bothered with him, and had let her alone. If he was dead, that was that. She didn’t remember him well—he hadn’t talked much. He had just run out of luck on the plains. It might have happened to her, and she wished it had.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
But if he was married to the woman, the baby drooling on her bosom might be his. Clara felt a flash of annoyance, most of it with herself. She had already grown attached to the baby. She liked to lie in bed with him and watch him try to work his tiny hands. He would peer at her for long stretches, frowning, as if trying to figure life out. But when Clara laughed at him and gave him her finger to hold he would stop frowning and gurgle happily. Apart from the colic, he seemed to be a healthy baby. She knew the mother was probably still in Ogallala, and that she ought to take the child into town and see if the woman had had a change of heart and wanted her son, but she kept putting it off. It would be discouraging to have to give him up—she told herself if the mother didn’t want him bad enough to come and get him, then the mother was too foolish to have him. She reminded herself it was time she got out of the habit of babies. She wouldn’t be likely to get any more, and she knew she ought to figure out another way to keep herself amused. But she did like babies. Few things were as likely to cheer her up.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
In the mornings she lay wrapped in a quilt until the smell of Cholo’s coffee waked her. She had fallen into the habit of letting Cholo make the coffee, mainly because he was better at it than she was. She would lie in her quilt, watching the mists float over the Platte, until one or both of the girls tiptoed out. They always tiptoed, as if they might wake their father, though his eyes were as wide open as ever.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Clara had lived, and stayed, though she had a look in her gray eyes that frightened Bob every time he saw it. He didn’t really know what the look meant, but to him it meant she might leave if he didn’t watch out. When they first came to Nebraska, he had had the drinking habit. Ogallala was hardly even a town then; there were few neighbors, and almost no socials. The Indians were a dire threat, though Clara didn’t seem to fear them. If they had company, it was usually soldiers—the soldiers drank, and so did he. Clara didn’t like it. One night he got pretty drunk, and when he got up in the morning she had that look in her eye. She made him breakfast, but then she looked at him coldly and lay down a threat. “I want you to stop drinking,” she said. “You’ve been drunk three times this week. I won’t live here and get dirt in my hair for the love of a drunkard.” It was the only threat she ever had to make. Bob spent the day worrying, looking at the bleak plains and wondering what he would do in such a place without her. He never touched whiskey again. The jug he had been working on sat in the cupboard for years, until Clara finally mixed it with sorghum molasses and used it for cough medicine.
克拉拉活了下来，也留了下来，尽管她灰色的眼睛里有一种眼神，每次鲍勃看到它都会害怕。他真的不知道这种眼神是什么意思，但对他来说，这意味着如果他不小心，她可能会离开。当他们第一次来到内布拉斯加州时，他有喝酒的习惯。那时奥加拉拉甚至还不是一个小镇；邻居很少，几乎没有社交活动。印第安人是一个可怕的威胁，尽管克拉拉似乎并不害怕他们。如果他们有同伴，通常是士兵——士兵们喝酒，他也是。克拉拉不喜欢这样。一天晚上，他喝得酩酊大醉，当他早上起床时，她的眼睛里有那种表情。她给他做了早餐，但随后她冷冷地看着他，发出了威胁。“我希望你停止饮酒，”她说。“你这周喝醉了三次。我不会为了一个醉汉的爱而住在这里，头发上沾满污垢。”这是她唯一一次威胁。鲍勃整天都在担心，看着荒凉的平原，想知道如果没有她，他会在这样的地方做什么。他再也没碰过威士忌。他一直在做的罐子在橱柜里放了好几年，直到克拉拉终于把它和高粱糖蜜混合在一起，用来治咳嗽。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Why, they didn’t look scary,” Jimmy Rainey said. “I reckon we could have whipped them easy enough.” Po Campo chuckled. “They weren’t here to fight,” he said. “They’re just hungry. When they’re fighting they look different.” “That’s right,” Lippy said. “It don’t take but a second for one to shoot a hole in your stomach. It happened to me.” Call had formed the habit of riding over with Augustus every night as he took Lorena her supper. Augustus usually camped about a mile from the herd, so it gave them a few minutes to talk. Augustus had not seen the Indians, but he had heard about the gift of the beef.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Luke looked at her belly. “Not for a while yet,” he said. “This ain’t gonna take no month. It probably won’t take six minutes. I’ll pay you. I won good money playing cards back at the Fort.” “No,” Elmira said. “I’m afraid of Zwey.” She wasn’t really, but it made a handy excuse. She was more afraid of Luke, who had mean eyes—there was something crazy in his looks. He also had a disgusting habit, which was that he liked to suck his own fingers. He would do it sitting by the fire at night—suck his fingers as if they were candy.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Luke, on the other hand, was a feisty little rabbit who lost no time in making his wants known. In the early morning he would stand and relieve himself in plain sight of her, grinning and looking at her while he did it. Zwey, who slept like a rock, never noticed this strange habit.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Riding away, Bolivar too felt very sad. Now that he was going, he was not sure why he had decided to go. Perhaps it was because he didn’t want to face embarrassment. After all, he had fired the shot that caused the mules to run. Also, he didn’t want to get so far north that he couldn’t find his way back to the river. As he rode away he decided he had made another stupid choice. So far, in his opinion, almost every decision of his life had been stupid. He didn’t miss his wife that much—they had lost the habit of one another and might not be able to reacquire it. He felt a little bitter as he rode away.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Ed’s a snake,” Louisa said. “Big rattler. I named him after my uncle, because they’re both lazy. I let Ed stay around because he holds down the rodents. He don’t bother me and I don’t bother him. But he hangs out around to the back, so watch out where you throw down your blanket.” Roscoe did watch. He stepped so gingerly, getting his bedding arranged, that it took him nearly twenty minutes to settle down. Then he couldn’t get the thought of the big snake off his mind. He had never heard of anyone naming a snake before, but then nothing she did accorded with any procedure he was familiar with. The fact that she had mentioned the snake meant that he had little chance of getting to sleep. He had heard that snakes had a habit of crawling in with people, and he definitely didn’t want to be crawled in with. He wrapped his blanket around him tightly to prevent Ed from slipping in, but it was a hot sultry night and he was soon sweating so profusely that he couldn’t sleep anyway. There were plenty of grass and weeds around, and every time anything moved in the grass he imagined it to be the big rattler. The snake might get along with Louisa, but that didn’t mean he would accept strangers.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇