词汇：belly

n. 腹部；胃；食欲

相关场景

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
Late in the afternoon Dan Suggs got up and took a piss by the spring. Then he lay down on his belly and had a long drink of water. When he got up, he mounted his horse and rode off, without a word to anyone. His brothers quickly mounted and followed him, and Jake had no choice but to do the same. Frog Lip, as usual, brought up the rear.
>> 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
When they approached the river, the herd was held up so the men could strip off. It was so chilly that Newt got goosebumps all over his body when he undressed. He wrapped his clothes and tied them high on his saddle, even his boots. The sight of all the men riding naked would have been amusing if he hadn’t been so tired and nervous about the crossing. Everyone looked white as a fish belly, except their hands and faces, which were brown.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
When they approached the river, the herd was held up so the men could strip off. It was so chilly that Newt got goosebumps all over his body when he undressed. He wrapped his clothes and tied them high on his saddle, even his boots. The sight of all the men riding naked would have been amusing if he hadn’t been so tired and nervous about the crossing. Everyone looked white as a fish belly, except their hands and faces, which were brown.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Come in, Lorie,” he said several times. “A bath won’t hurt you.” Finally she did. She had not washed in a long time, and it felt good. Gus was sitting on a rock not far away, letting the sun dry him. The water was rapid, and she didn’t wade in too deep. She was surprised to see how white her skin looked, once the dirt was all washed off. The sight of her own brown legs and white belly surprised her so that she began to cry. Once the crying started, she couldn’t stop it—she cried as if she would never stop. Gus noticed and walked over to help her out of the river, for she was just standing there sobbing, the water up to her thighs.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
But she wasn’t, though her hands were raw from gripping the horsehair so tightly. Minute by minute, for hours, it seemed to her that she couldn’t go on—that she might as well give up and slide under the animal’s belly. There was no reason to stay alive anyway: Blue Duck had her.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
She had thought the riding hard even when she had a saddle but quickly realized how easy that had been. She slipped from side to side and had to cling to the horse’s mane to stay on. Blue Duck rode as before, seldom looking back. It was night and she was tired, but there was no dozing. Despite her grip on the mane, she almost slid off several times. With her feet tied, if she fell she could just roll under the horse’s belly and be kicked to death. The horse was narrow-backed and not very smooth-gaited; she could find no way to sit that didn’t jar her, and long before morning she thought if they didn’t stop she would be cut in two.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
There was no saddle—he had not bothered to take the saddle off the dying packhorse. He passed a cord under the horse’s belly and tied her ankles.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
She had never been so thirsty in her life, and had not imagined it could be such a pain. The most terrible part was when they crossed water—for creeks were numerous. She would look down at the water as they crossed, and she wanted to beg. She leaned over at one of the deeper creeks, trying to get a little water in her hand, but she couldn’t reach it, though it splashed beneath the horse’s belly. She cried then, tears mingling with the sweat. Her head throbbed from the beating sunlight, and she began to lose hold on life for minutes at a time. She felt she might cross over. What a joke it would be on the man if, when he got her wherever he was taking her, she was dead. He wouldn’t get much from her dead.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Now that’s a graceful skill,” Augustus said. “Most men just drop on their bellies to drink out of a pond, or else dip water in their hats, which means the water tastes like hair.” The bay stallion waded a few steps into the pool and drank deeply.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
It was true that the crew presented an odd appearance, though Newt wouldn’t have compared them to chickens. Most of them were burned a deep brown on the face, neck and hands, but the rest of their bodies, which the sun never touched, were stark white. Bert Borum was the funniest-looking without a shirt, for he had a round fat belly with curly black on it that ran right down into his pants.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Newt had meant to go back to the wagon, but the storm gave him no time. While Soupy was fixing his bandana, they looked around and saw streams of sand like small, low clouds blowing in the dim light through the mesquite just to the south. The little clouds of sand seemed like live things, slipping around the mesquite and by the chaparral as a running wolf might, sliding under the bellies of the cattle and then rising a little, to blow over their backs. But behind the little sand streams came a river, composed not of water but of sand. Newt only glanced once, to get his directions, and the sand filled his eyes so that he was immediately blind.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He had gone there often and had great fun in the days before he got the wound in his belly. He had never forgotten the merry whores—they were always sitting on his lap. One of them, a girl named Maria, would sleep with him merely because she liked the way he played the piano. Those had been the years.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
He’s the best card cheat I ever met. He don’t cheat often, but when he does you ain’t gonna catch him.” He wiped some of the mud off her belly. “Now that you’re rich you can loan me twenty,” he said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
But this time he didn’t seem to notice that dust was sifting out of his clothes onto the floor. When he opened his pants and pulled his shirttail out a little trickle of sand came with it. The night was stifling and Jake so sandy that by the time he got through there was so much dirt in the bed that they might as well have been wallowing around on the ground. There were little lines of mud on her belly where sweat had caked the dust. She didn’t resent it, particularly—it was better than smoke pots and mosquitoes.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Jake Spoon chuckled. “His horse,” he said. “Just aim for his horse. There ain’t many of them chili-bellies that will bother you once they’re afoot.”With that he touched spurs to his horse and trotted around to the other side of the herd.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Probably all Texas horses anyway,” Augustus said. “Probably had enough of Mexico.” “I’ve had enough of it and I just got here,” Jake said, lighting his smoke. “I never liked it down here with these chili- bellies.” “Why, Jake, you should stay and make your home here,” Augustus said. “That sheriff can’t follow you here. Besides, think of the women.” “I got a woman,” Jake said. “That one back in Lonesome Dove will do me for a while.” “She’ll do you, all right,” Augustus said. “That girl’s got more spunk than you have.” “What would you know about it, Gus?” Jake asked. “I don’t suppose you’ve spent time with her, a man your age.” “The older the violin, the sweeter the music,” Augustus said. “You never knowed much about women.” Jake didn’t answer. He had forgotten how much Gus liked argument.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Remember that horse that bit off all that old boy’s toes—all the ones on the left foot, I mean?” Augustus said. “That old boy’s name was Harwell. He went to the war and got killed at Vicksburg. He never was much of a hand after he lost his toes. Of course, the horse that bit ’em off had a head the size of a punkin. I don’t suppose a little mare like that could take off five toes in one bite.” Call eased the saddle on her, and the minute the stirrups slapped against her belly the mare went as high as she could get, and the saddle flew off and landed twenty feet away. Augustus got a big laugh out of it. Call went to the barn and returned with a short rawhide rope.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Once you left, our standards slipped,” Augustus said. “The majority of this outfit ain’t interested in refinements.” “That’s plain,” Jake said. “There’s a damn pig on the back porch. What about them biscuits?” “Much as I’ve missed you, I ain’t overworking my sourdough just because you and Deets couldn’t manage to get here in time,” Augustus said. “What I will do is fry some meat.” He fried it, and Jake and Deets ate it, while Bolivar sat in the corner and sulked at the thought of two more breakfasts to wash up after. It amused Augustus to watch Jake eat—he was so fastidious about it—but the sight put Call into a black fidget. Jake could spend twenty minutes picking at some eggs and a bit of bacon. It was obvious to Augustus that Call was trying to be polite and let Jake get some food in his belly before he told his story, but Call was not a patient man and had already controlled his urge to get to work longer than was usual. He stood in the door, watching the whitening sky and looking restless enough to bite himself.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
They could hear the piano from down at the Dry Bean. An old-timer named Lippy Jones did all the playing. He had the same problem Sam Houston had had, which was a hole in his belly that wouldn’t quite heal shut. Someone had shot Lippy with a big bore gun; instead of dying he ended up living with a leak. With a handicap like that, it was lucky he could play the piano.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Most British men my age now should have a beer belly that I can-- it's that big-- I can rest, you know, I can rest a tray of chips and gravy on it and eat from, you know, but I haven't.
>> Fart: A Documentary Movie Script
GRANT (cont'd) - - or maybe across the belly, spilling your intestines.
>> 侏罗纪公园 1 Jurassic Park (1993) Movie Script
I am not gonna crawl on my belly... in front of those miserable union rats.
>> 火箭小子-十月的天空 1999 October Sky Movie Script
SYDNEY PROSSER (CONT’D) Quite your belly aching and come upwith something to get us out ofthis. And you're right -- I'm in nostate to deal with this so what's it gonna be, Mister Mastermind?
>> 美国骗局 American Hustle Movie Script