词汇：painful
adj. 疼痛的；痛苦的；令人不快的
相关场景
- 2. Saltwater rinse, Rinsing your mouth with salt water is a go-to home remedy, although painful, for mouth sores of any kind. It may help dry out canker sores.
2.盐水漱口，用盐水漱口是一种家庭疗法，尽管对任何类型的口腔溃疡都很痛苦。它可能有助于干燥口腔溃疡。>> 16 Ways to Get Rid of Canker Sores- Canker sores (aphthous ulcers) occur inside your mouth or on your gums. Although they can be painful and make it difficult to talk or eat, they usually don’t cause lasting damage. Most canker sores heal on their own within a couple of weeks.
口腔溃疡（口疮）发生在口腔内或牙龈上。虽然它们可能很痛苦，很难说话或吃饭，但它们通常不会造成持久的伤害。大多数口腔溃疡会在几周内自行愈合。>> 16 Ways to Get Rid of Canker Sores- She is taken with all the SOUNDS around her. THE HUM OF THE AIR CONDITIONING. THE REFRIGERATOR BUZZ. THE CROWS OUTSIDE... APRIL RECOILS. A STRANGE HIGH-PITCH RINGING PULSATES IN HER EAR, LIKE AN IRRITATING, PAINFUL WHISTLE.>> A Quiet Place 寂静之地 Movie Script 2018
- The Polaroid seems to be attached to a PAINFUL MEMORY. And like everything in this basement, it has the look of something that was abandoned long ago.>> A Quiet Place 寂静之地 Movie Script 2018
- It is painful to walk around in high heels all day.>> 2024-5 Tai Chi and Yoga
- THE DON takes it, and then LUCA's hand, which he squeezes so tightly we might imagine it to be painful.>> The Godfather教父 1972 Movie Script
- DREW (CONT'D) (to himself) This humble, not fighting stuff is harder, and more painful, than it looks!>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
- He lands with a huge splash, doing a painful bellow flop. Drew comes to the surface, still clutching the now- destroyed umbrella. He smiles at the other disciples, who are still swimming, sheepishly.>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
- It is huge, and looks really painful.>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
- And thank you so much for bringing up such a painful subject. While you're at it, why don't you give me a nice paper cut and pour lemon juice on it? We're closed!>> The Princess Bride Movie Script
- All day he persevered, dragging himself along. He stopped less frequently, because he found it hard to get started once he stopped. Rest was seductive, made more so by his tendency to improve the situation through imagination. Maybe the herd had moved north faster than he calculated. Maybe Call would show up the next day and save him the painful business of dragging along with his crutch.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- At first the nakedness worried him almost as much as his sore feet, but before he had walked half a day his feet hurt so much that he had stopped caring whether he was naked, or even alive. He had to wade two little creeks, and he got into some thorny underbrush in one of them. Soon every step was painful, but he knew he had to keep walking or he would never find the boys. Every time he looked back, he expected to see either Indians or a bear. By evening he was just stumbling along. He found a good patch of high grass and weeds and lay down to sleep for a while.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Only now and then did she miss Gus, though then she missed him with a painful ache and felt almost desperate to see him. At such times she felt cowardly for not having gone with him, though, of course, he himself had urged her to stay.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “No, sir,” Newt said. “He just quirted me a little. I wasn’t gonna let him have Dish’s horse.” “Well, you can let her go now,” Dish said. “He’s gone. I’m much obliged to you for what you did, Newt.” Newt had gripped the bit so tightly that it was painful to let go. It had cut deep creases in his palms, and he seemed to have squeezed the blood out of his fingers. But he turned the mare loose. Dish took the reins and patted her on the neck.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “No, I guess it wouldn’t,” Augustus said. “You’re so sure you’re right it doesn’t matter to you whether people talk to you at all. I’m glad I’ve been wrong enough to keep in practice.” “Why would you want to keep in practice being wrong?” Call asked. “I’d think it would be something you’d try to avoid.” “You can’t avoid it, you’ve got to learn to handle it,” Augustus said. “If you only come face to face with your own mistakes once or twice in your life it’s bound to be extra painful. I face mine every day—that way they ain’t usually much worse than a dry shave.” “Anyway, I hope you leave her,” Call said. “We might get in the Indians before we get to Montana.” “I’ll have to see,” Augustus said. “We’ve grown attached. I won’t leave her unless I’m sure she’s in good hands.” “Are you aiming to marry?” “I could do worse,” Augustus said. “I’ve done worse twice, in fact. However, matrimony’s a big step and we ain’t discussed it.” “Of course, you ain’t seen the other one yet,” Call said.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “Now, wait a minute, Zwey,” he said. “Why do you think that baby was yours?” Zwey was silent a long time. Luke was smiling, as he did when he wanted to make fun of him. It didn’t ordinarily much bother him that Luke made fun of him, but he didn’t want him to make fun about the baby. He didn’t want Luke to talk about it. It was painful enough that she had had it and then gone off and left it. He decided not to answer.>> 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
- She went into the tent and lay awake all night while Dish Boggett sat nearby, keeping watch. It seemed to him he had never felt so lonely. The mere fact that she was so close, and yet they were separate, made the loneliness keener. When he had just thrown his blanket down with the boys, he didn’t imagine her so much, and he could sleep. Now she was just a few yards away—he could have crept up to the tent and heard her breathing. And yet it seemed he would never be able to eliminate those few yards. In some way Lorie would always be as distant from him as the Kansas stars. At times he felt that he had almost rather not be in love with her, for it brought him no peace. What was the use of it, if it was only going to be so painful? And yet, she had spoken to him in a friendly voice only that day. He couldn’t give up while there was a chance.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- July wondered if perhaps the sleep of death would be as good, as comforting and warming, as his boyhood slumber. He had a rifle and a pistol—one pull of the trigger would bring him all the sleep he wanted. In his five years as a lawman he had never shot anyone, though he had a reputation as a dangerous fighter. It would be a joke on everyone if the only person he ever killed was himself. He had always assumed that people who killed themselves were cowards. His own uncle had done it in a painful way, by drinking lye.. His uncle had been deep in debt.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “Because of Jake we lost ’em both, I guess,” Dish said. “Jake is a goddamn bastard.” It was painful to Newt to have to think of Jake that way. He still remembered how Jake had played with him when he was a little child, and that Jake had made his mother get a lively, merry look in her eyes. All the years Jake had been gone, Newt had remembered him fondly and supposed that if he ever did come back he would be a hero. But it had to be admitted that Jake’s behavior since his return had not been heroic at all. It bordered on the cowardly, particularly his casual return to card playing once Lorena had been stolen.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “A dern old man beat her and used her hard, and that’s why she run off,” Roscoe elaborated. “Can we go to a saloon? I’d sure fancy a beer.” July took him to a saloon and bought him a beer. Now that he had Roscoe alone he felt curiously reluctant to mention Elmira. Even hearing her name spoken would be painful.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Blue Duck rode on through the high grass, never slowing, seldom looking back. She felt hatred growing, pushing through her fear. If she fell, he probably wouldn’t even stop. He only wanted her for his men. He didn’t care how much she hurt or how tired she was. He hadn’t cared to keep her saddle or even her saddle blanket, though the blanket would have kept the horse’s hard back from bruising her so. She felt like she had felt when she had tried to shoot Tinkersley. If she ever got a chance she would kill the man, in revenge for all the painful hours she had spent watching his indifferent back.Well before sundown they came to a broad riverbed with just a little thin ribbon of brown water visible across an expanse of reddish sand.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- As the day grew hotter, she became thirsty, so thirsty that it was painful to remember that she had stood near a creek and hadn’t drunk. She could remember the sound the creek made as it ran over the rocks. At moments it haunted her; most of the time she was too tired to remember anything. It seemed to her the horses would die if they just rode all day.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Over all those years, he could still remember how her eyes fixed on him hopefully when he entered, or when he was ready to leave. It was the most painful part of the memory—he had not asked her to care for him that much, yet she had.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Elmira also watched the distant banks, which were green with the grass of spring. As the river gradually narrowed, she saw many animals: deer, coyote, cattle—but no Indians. She remembered stories heard over the years about women being carried off by Indians; in Kansas she had had such a woman pointed out to her, one who had been rescued and brought back to live with whites again. To her the woman seemed no different from other women, though it was true that she seemed cowed; but then, many women were cowed by events more ordinary. It was hard to see how the Indians could be much worse than the buffalo hunters, two of whom were on board. The sight of them brought back painful memories. They were big men with buffalo-skin coats and long shaggy hair—they looked like the animals they hunted. At night, in her cubbyhole, she would sometimes hear them relieving themselves over the side of the boat; they would stand just beyond the whiskey casks and pour their water into the Arkansas.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇