词汇：tail
n. 尾部；踪迹；辫子；燕尾服
相关场景
Tails, do you really trust that weird, little gadget that Eggman gave you?
>> 刺猬索尼克 1996 Sonic the Hedgehog Movie Script
>> 刺猬索尼克 1996 Sonic the Hedgehog Movie Script
Right, the business. It's been a long time, hasn't it, Sonic, Tails.
>> 刺猬索尼克 1996 Sonic the Hedgehog Movie Script
>> 刺猬索尼克 1996 Sonic the Hedgehog Movie Script
Westley abandons his sword, reaching for the rodent, grabbing only a tail, wrestling with it. Buttercup grabs a small branch, and using it as a club, beats the skull of the thing, doing pretty well, but the beast manages to snag her hem with its razor teeth, and she's pulled to the ground, and
>> The Princess Bride Movie Script
>> The Princess Bride Movie Script
Call let them rest three hours and then told them to get their best mounts. Some of the cattle were so weak the cowboys had to dismount, pull their tails and shout at them to get them up. Call knew that if they didn’t make it on the next push, they would have to abandon the cattle in order to save the horses. Even after their rest, many of the cattle had their tongues hanging out. They were mulish, reluctant to move, but after much effort on the part of the exhausted men, the drive was started again.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Not only had no one talked at the hanging, no one had talked since, either. Captain Call kept well to himself, riding far from the herd all day and sleeping apart at night. Mr. Gus stayed back with Lorena, only showing up at mealtimes. Deets was very quiet when he was around, and he wasn’t around much—he spent his days scouting far ahead of the herd, which was traveling easily. The Texas bull had assumed the lead position, passing Old Dog almost every day and only giving up the lead to go snort around the tails of whatever cows interested him. He had lost none of his belligerence. Dish, who rode the point, had come to hate him even more than Needle Nelson did.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> 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
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Yes, that’s your problem,” he said. “You don’t like buttermilk, or nothing else. You’re like a starving person whose stomach is shrunk up from not having any food. You’re shrunk up from not wanting nothing.” “I want to get to San Francisco,” Lorena said. “It’s cool, they say.” “You’d be better off if you could just enjoy a poke once in a while,” Augustus said, taking one of her hands in his and smoothing her fingers. “Life in San Francisco is still just life. If you want one thing too much it’s likely to be a disappointment. The healthy way is to learn to like the everyday things, like soft beds and buttermilk—and feisty gentlemen.” Lorena didn’t answer. She shut her eyes and let Gus hold her hand. She was afraid he would try more, without paying her or even playing cards, but he didn’t. It was a very still morning. Gus seemed content to hold her hand and sit quietly. She could hear the horses swishing their tails.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇