词汇：cover

v.盖;覆盖;包括;给…保险;遮盖;遮掩，掩盖，敷衍;报道;掩护;占（一片面积）;代替，顶替，替补;掩蔽;足以支付;行走（一段路程）;翻唱;撒上，洒上，溅上(一层液体、尘土等);采取预防行动 n. (书刊的)封面，封皮;（保险公司的）保险;（云层的）遮盖;覆盖物;掩盖，掩饰;掩护;罩子;床单;套子;庇护所;避难所;树木植物，自然植被;掩蔽物;躲避处;代替工作

相关场景

Put me on the cover.
>> 战争机器 War Machine (2017) Movie Script
Just make sure I'm on the cover.
>> 战争机器 War Machine (2017) Movie Script
! Airport Where are we going? - You will see - Link to the boat, please (If only we met in other circumstances (Frank Take the next flight to "America" you will find the ticket in the bag ! Caution But I am fond of your Client ID "M, P, Q," 98495, 'c " "entry permit, acceptable" / b/b So now may disclose your cover Summits (I'm so ready Oslmk (Pierce You are ready in order to Tslimy?
>> 致命伴旅 The Tourist (2010) Movie Script
DREW (CONT'D) Nice throw... ANGLE ON DREW: Who realizes he is going to have to get out of the water without a cover. He gets up and hurries to where his pants are. He starts to put them on, and the woman is all over him, trying to seduce him.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
He previously said, building the railway is just a cover.
>> 新少林寺 Shaolin (2011)Movie Script
It's a good cover. It pays off too.
>> 美国往事Once Upon a Time in America Movie Script
We're gonna have him cover it with Hab canvas.
>> 火星救援 The Martian (2015) Movie Script
Call knew he could never drag the coffin all the way to Austin—he himself would be lucky to get across the bleached, waterless land to the Colorado or the San Saba. On the other hand he had no intention of leaving Gus, now that he had brought him so far. He broke open the coffin and rewrapped his friend’s remains in the tarp he had been using for a bed cover on wet nights—there were few of those to worry about. Then he lashed the bundle to Gus’s sign, itself well weathered, with most of the lettering worn off. He cut down a small salt-cedar and made a crude axle, fixing the sign between the two buggy wheels. It was more travois than buggy, but it moved. He felt his wound a trifle less every day, though he knew it had been a small-bore bullet that hit him. A larger bore and he would be down and probably dead.
Call知道他永远无法把棺材拖到奥斯汀——他自己很幸运能穿过漂白的无水土地到达科罗拉多州或圣萨巴州。另一方面，既然他已经带他走了这么远，他就不打算离开格斯。他打开棺材，用湿漉漉的夜晚用来盖床罩的防水布重新包裹了朋友的遗体——这样的事情很少需要担心。然后，他把那捆东西绑在格斯的标志上，标志本身风化得很好，大部分字母都磨掉了。他砍下一棵小盐雪松，做了一个粗糙的车轴，把标志固定在两个车轮之间。与其说是马车，不如说是拖车，但它动了。尽管他知道是一颗小口径子弹击中了他，但他每天都觉得自己的伤口少了一点。更大的口径，他会倒下，可能会死。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“If it was to cover you up, I reckon you’d freeze,” he said, over and over, until the men were tired of hearing it. Most of the men were tired of hearing one another say anything—the complaints characteristic of each had come to bore them thoroughly as a group.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I don’t know how he’ll do,” the undertaker said. “If he weren’t a human you could smoke him, like a ham.” “I’ll try salt and charcoal,” Call said.When the coffin was ready, Call bought a fine bandana to cover Gus’s face with. Dr. Mobley brought in the leg he had removed, wrapped in some burlap and soaked in formaldehyde to cover the smell. A bartender and the blacksmith helped pack the charcoal in. Call felt very awkward, though everyone was relaxed and cheerful. Once Gus was well covered, they filled the coffin to the top with salt and nailed it shut. Call gave the extra salt to the drunk at the hardware store to compensate him a little for the use of his wagon. They carried the coffin around and put it in the doctor’s harness shed on top of two empty barrels.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Jasper Fant, so cheerful only an hour before, sank the fastest. “Good lord,” he said. “Here we are in Montana and there’s Indians and bears and it’s winter coming on and the Captain and Gus both off somewhere. I’ll be surprised if we don’t get massacred.” For once Soupy Jones didn’t have a word to say.AUGUSTUS KEPT HIS PISTOL COCKED ALL NIGHT, once Pea Eye left. He watched the surface of the river closely, for the trick he hoped might work for Pea could also work for the Indians. They might put a log in the water and float down on him, using the log for cover. He tried to look and listen closely, a task not helped by the fact that he was shaking and feverish.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
They shot from downriver, and Gus opened up on them at once. They were so respectful of his gun that their bullets only splattered uselessly in the mud, or else hit the water and ricocheted off with a whine. Gus looked so weak and shaky that Pea Eye wondered if he could still shoot accurately, but the question was answered later in the day when an Indian tried to shoot them from the opposite bank, using a little rain squall as cover. He got off his shot, which hit one of the saddles; then Gus shot him as he turned to crawl away. The shot caused the Indian to straighten up, and Gus shot him again. The second bullet seemed to suck the Indian backward—he toppled off the bank and rolled into the water. He was not dead; he tried to swim, so Gus shot him again. A minute or two later he floated past them face down.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
No Indians came in the night, and Augustus was glad of that. He began to feel feverish and was afraid of taking a chill. He had to cover himself with saddle blankets, though he kept his gun hand free and managed to stay awake most of the night—unlike Pea, who snored beside him, as deeply asleep as if he were in a feather bed.
晚上没有印第安人来，奥古斯都很高兴。他开始发烧，害怕感冒。他不得不用马鞍毯盖住自己，尽管他没有拿枪，而且大部分时间都保持清醒——不像豌豆，他在他身边打鼾，睡得很熟，就像在羽毛床上一样。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“We gotta move,” he said. “This cover’s working against us. But for luck we’d both be dead now already. What we need is a stretch with a steep bank and no cover.” They worked their way upstream, carrying the saddle, saddlebags and guns, for nearly a mile, hugging the bank. Augustus was limping badly but didn’t stop to worry about it. Finally they came to a bend in the creek, where the bank was sheer and about ten feet high. The creek bottom was nearly bare of foliage.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Get all the ammunition you can,” he said. “We’re in for a shooting match. And tie the horses in the best cover you can find, or they’ll shoot ’em. This is long country to be afoot in.” Then he hobbled to the bank, wishing he had time to cut the two arrows out of his leg. But if they were poisoned it was already too late, and if he didn’t do some fine shooting it wouldn’t matter anyway because the Indians would overrun them.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
At dawn Clara went out and took Cholo some coffee. He had finished digging and was sitting on the mound of earth that would soon cover Bob. Walking toward the ridge in the early sunlight, Clara had the momentary sense that they were all watching her, the boys and Bob. The vision lasted a second; it was Cholo who was watching her. It was windy, and the grass waved over the graves of her three boys—four now, she felt. In memory Bob seemed like a boy to her also. He had aboyish innocence and kept it to the end, despite the strains of work and marriage in a rough place. It often irritated her, that innocence of his. She had felt it to be laziness—it left her alone to do the thinking, which she resented. Yet she had loved it, too. He had never been a knowing man in the way that Gus was knowing, or even Jake Spoon. When she decided to marry Bob, Jake, who was a hothead, grew red in the face and proceeded to throw a fit. It disturbed him terribly that she had chosen someone he thought was dumb. Gus had been better behaved, if no less puzzled. She remembered how it pleased her to thwart them—to make them realize that her measure was different from theirs. “I’ll always know where he is,” she told Gus. It was the only explanation she ever offered.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Shortly after dark he was proven right. None of the animals wanted to go into the wind. It quickly became necessary for the cowboys to cover their horses’ eyes with jackets or shirts; and despite the hands’ precautions, little strings of cattle began to stray. Newt tried unsuccessfully to turn back two bunches, but the cattle paid him no mind, even when he bumped them with his horse. Finally he let them go, feeling guilty as he did it but not guilty enough to risk getting lost himself. He knew if he lost the herd he was probably done for; he knew it was a long way to water and he might not be able to find it, even though he was riding the good sorrel that Clara had given him.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
All during the trip he had been haunted by the memory of something that had happened in Fort Smith several years before. One of the nicest men in town, a cotton merchant, had gone to Memphis on a business trip, only to have his wife take sick while he was gone. They tried to send a telegram to notify the man, but he was on his way back and the telegram never got delivered. The man’s name was John Fisher. As he rode back into Fort Smith, John Fisher saw a burying party out behind the church. Being a neighborly man, he had ridden over to see who had died, and the people had all stopped, stricken, for they were burying his wife. July had been helping to cover the coffin. He never forgot the look on John Fisher’s face when he realized he was a day late—his wife had died the afternoon before his return. Though a healthy man, John Fisher only lived another year himself. If he ran into someone on the street who had seen his wife on her sickbed he always asked, “Do you think Jane might have lived if I’d got back sooner?” Everyone told him no, you couldn’t have done a thing, but John Fisher didn’t believe them.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Help me, boys,” she said. “I’m real cold.” Zwey immediately handed the reins to Luke and went back to help cover her up. It was a warm night, but Ellie was still shivering. He put the blankets on her, but she didn’t stop shivering. On the wagon seat, Luke would laugh from time to time when he thought of Zwey’s baby. Before they had gone five miles, Ellie was delirious. She huddled in the blankets, talking to herself, mostly about the man called Dee Boot. Her look was so wild that Zwey became frightened. Once his hand happened to brush her and her skin was as hot as if the sun were burning down on her.
>> 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
Lorena watched the cloud, which came down on them faster than any rain cloud. She could plainly hear the hum of millions of insects. The cloud covered the plain in front of them from the ground far up in the air. It was blotting out the ground as if a cover were being pulled over it.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Well, it tore up the turkey,” he said, when they came out of cover and picked up the cold bird.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“You could take him with you when you hunt, like you used to,” she said. “He couldn’t pester me if he’s with you.” She had hardly spoken when a shot rang out. It passed between the two of them and hit the turkey, knocking it off its stick into the ashes. They both scrambled for the cover of the wagon and waited. An hour later they were still waiting.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Get under your horse if it gets worse,” he said. “Use your saddle for cover.” “This horse would kick me to death, if I was to try that,” Dish said. He quickly unsaddled and used his saddle blanket for immediate shelter.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Get under your horse if it gets worse,” he said. “Use your saddle for cover.” “This horse would kick me to death, if I was to try that,” Dish said. He quickly unsaddled and used his saddle blanket for immediate shelter.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇