词汇：particularly

adv. 特别地，独特地；详细地，具体地；明确地，细致地

相关场景

Why was the Ambassador particularly lucky?
>> 95-A Fantasy
CUT TO:
INT. LAMBEAU'S OFFICE -- DAY Will and Lambeau work together at the board. They communicate non-verbally as they collaborate on a problem. After a particularly amusing series of numbers, they share a look and laugh.
>> Good Will Hunting (1997)Movie Script
37. Really pay attention to negative feedback and solicit it, particularly from friends. … Hardly anyone does that, and it’s incredibly helpful.
37.真正关注并征求负面反馈，尤其是来自朋友的反馈…几乎没有人这样做，这非常有帮助。
>> 马斯克的给企业家的名言警句
One sailor in the middle of the room is particularly panicked, not just yelling but crying and whimpering -- TERRIFIED SAILOR Get me out! Get me out!
>> Pearl Harbor 珍珠港（2001） Movie Script
The Vito Corleone Foundation helps the poor in every country, gives grants to artists, funds medical research, and is particularly dedicated to the resurrection of Sicily.
>> The Godfather: Part III 教父 3 1990 Movie Script
You seem particularly interested in our process.
>> 公正裁决 Equity (2016) Movie Script
As he rounds a particularly difficult series of statues, a volley of ARROWS comes HURTLING towards him. Drew blocks some, avoids others, and catches one in each hand. He throws them down and continues on.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
FOLLOWING MONTAGE SECTION Different shots of the monks tearing the building apart with kicks and punches. Shots of Drew, Gao and Li kicking through walls, through doors, through windows, etc. Some the three of them destroy together, others are seperate. Several shots of disciples as they concentrate on particularly difficult things, using their chi, smashing the bricks and wood apart. They are destroying the building, and they are having a GREAT TIME!
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
He is throwing kicks and going through his routines, concentrating on his breathing. As he finishes a particularly strenuous series, he strips off his clothes and dives into the lake.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
Drew is getting tagged, hard, while the points he scores are all relatively controlled. After one particularly powerful shot, Drew stops.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script
CUT TO:
THE TWO OF THEM: moving slowly along through a particularly dangerous part of the Fire Swamp.
>> The Princess Bride Movie Script
Everyone in the Territory wanted to see Blue Duck hanged, it seemed. The little town was full of cowhands, with women and children sleeping in wagons. There was much argument, most of it in favor of hanging Blue Duck instantly lest he escape. Parties were constantly forming to present petitions to the sheriff, or else storm the jail, but the latter were unenthusiastic. Blue Duck had ranged the llano for so long, and butchered and raped and stolen so often, that superstitions had formed around him. Some, particularly women, felt he couldn’t die, and that their lives would never be safe.
似乎领土上的每个人都想看到蓝鸭被绞死。小镇上到处都是牛仔，妇女和儿童睡在马车里。有很多争论，大多数都赞成立即绞死蓝鸭，以免他逃跑。各方不断组织起来向治安官请愿，或者冲进监狱，但后者并不热心。蓝鸭在拉诺游荡了这么久，经常被屠杀、强奸和偷窃，以至于他周围形成了迷信。有些人，尤其是女性，觉得他不会死，他们的生命永远不会安全。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Yet May wore on and June approached, and still he had not gone. The snows had melted, all down the plains, he imagined, and yet something held him. It wasn’t work. There were plenty of men to do the work—they had even had to turn away three or four men who came looking to hire on. Many times Call spent much of the afternoon watching Newt work with the new batch of horses they had bought on a recent trip to the fort. It was work he himself had never been particularly good at—he had always lacked the patience. He let the boy alone and never made suggestions. He liked to watch the boy with the horses; it had become a keen pleasure. If a cowboy came over and tried to talk to him while he was watching he usually simply ignored the man until he went away. He wanted to watch the boy and not be bothered. It could only be for a few days, he knew. It was a long piece to Texas and back. Sometimes he wondered if he would even come back. The ranch was started, and the dangers so far had been less than he feared. He felt sometimes that he had no more to do. He felt much older than anyone he knew. Gus had seemed young even when he was dying, and yet Call felt old. His interest in work had not returned. It was only when he was watching the boy with the horses that he felt himself.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
In the early spring, while the weather was still chancy, fifteen horses disappeared one night. It was only by luck that the theft was discovered, for in such a place at such a time horsethieves were the last thing they were expecting. Call had taken the precaution of going with Old Hugh to two or three of the nearest Indian camps to meet the chiefs and do the usual diplomacy, in the hope of preventing the sort of surprise encounter that had proven deadly for Gus. The visits made him sad, for the Indians were not belligerent and it was apparent that Gus had merely struck the wrong bunch at the wrong time, in the wrong manner. It was a depressing irony, for Gus had always been one to preach diplomacy with the red man and over the years had engaged in many councils that Call himself thought pointless. Gus had talked to many a warrior that Call would merely have shot, and yet had got killed in a place where most of the Indians were happy to talk, particularly to a man who owned an endless supply of beef.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
It amused her that he was so jealous of Dish, who, though friendly, companionable and an excellent hand, was not interested in her at all. His love for Lorena leaped out of every look he cast in her direction, although not one of them penetrated Lorena’s iron grief. Clara herself didn’t try to touch or change Lorena’s grief—it was like Martin’s fever: either it would kill her or it wouldn’t. Clara would not have been surprised by a gunshot if it had come from Lorena’s room. She knew the girl felt what she had felt when her boys died: unrelievable grief. In those times, the well-meaning efforts of Bob or the neighbors to cheer her up had merely affronted her. She hadn’t wanted to live, particularly not cheerfully. Kindly people told her that the living must live. I don’t, if my boys can’t, she wanted to say to them. Yet the kindly people were right; she came slowly back to enjoyment and one day would even find herself making a cake again and eating it with relish.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Where were you?” July had been thinking that he probably should have offered to sit with her. Of course, now it was too late. He wanted to explain that he was too shy just to come into a room where she was, particularly a bedroom, unless she asked him. Even coming into the kitchen, if she was alone, was not something he did casually. But he didn’t know how to explain all the cautions she prompted in him.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
That night he wondered if he ought to leave. He could not stay around Clara without nursing hopes, and yet he could detect no sign that she cared about him. Sometimes he thought she did, but when he thought it over he always concluded that he had just been imagining things. Her remarks to him generally had a stinging quality, but he would often not realize he had been stung until after she left the scene. Working together in the lots, which they did whenever the weather was decent, she often lectured him on his behavior with the horses. She didn’t feel he paid close attention to them. July was at a loss to know how anyone could pay close attention to a horse when she was around, and yet the more his eyes turned to her the worse he did with the horses and the more disgusted she grew. His eyes would turn to her, though. She had taken to wearing her husband’s old coat and overshoes, both much too big for her. She wouldn’t wear gloves—she claimed the horses didn’t like it—and her large bony hands often got so cold she would have to stick them under the coat for a few minutes to warm them. She wore a variety of caps that she had ordered from somewhere—apparently she liked caps as much as she liked cake. None of them were particularly suited to a Nebraska winter. Her favorite one was an old Army cap Cholo had picked up on the plains somewhere. Sometimes Clara would tie a wool scarf over it to keep her ears warm, but usually the scarf came untied in the course of working with the horses, so that when they walked back up for a meal her hair was usually spilling over the collar of the big coat. Yet July couldn’t stop his eyes from feasting on her. He thought she was wonderfully beautiful, so beautiful that merely to walk with her from the lots to the house, when she was in a good mood, was enough to make him give up for another month all thought of leaving. He told himself that just being able to work with her was enough. And yet, it wasn’t—which is why the question finally forced itself out. He was miserable all night, for she hadn’t answered the question. But he had spoken the words and revealed what he wanted. He supposed she would think worse of him than she already did, once she thought it over.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The Major found out that Newt was good at breaking horses and asked Call if he would mind leaving the boy at the fort for a few weeks to rough out the new string of horses. Call didn’t want to, but the Major had dealt with him on fair terms and he didn’t feel he could refuse the request, particularly since there was not much to do back at ranch headquarters.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Dish resolved that as soon as the building was done he would go like a streak for Nebraska. The thought that a stranger might come along and win Lorie before he could get back was a torment to him—but it made him one of the more vigorous members of the logging crew once the building got started. Most of the other members of the crew, Jasper and Needle particularly, were less vigorous, and they irritated Dish by taking frequent breaks, leaving him to chop alone. They would sit around smoking, keeping a close watch for bears, while Dish flailed away, the sound of the striking ax echoing far across the valley of the Milk River.
>> 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
Call had no time to soothe the men with elaborate instructions. If Gus was badly wounded, he would weaken rapidly, and every hour counted. Arriving ten minutes too late would be as bad as ten days, or a year, for that matter. Besides, the almost beseeching way the men looked at him was irritating. Sometimes they acted as if they would forget how to breathe if he or Gus wasn’t there to show them. They were all resourceful men—he knew that, if they didn’t—and yet at certain times they became like children, wanting to be led. All his adult life, he had consented to lead, and yet occasionally, when the men seemed particularly dumbstruck, he wondered why he had done it.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Just move the stock on north,” he said. “Be alert. I’m going to get Gus.” The thought of him leaving sent a ripple of apprehension through the camp. Though independent to a man in some respects, the outfit was happier in all respects when Captain Call was around. Or if not the Captain, then Gus. Only a few hours earlier, they had felt cocky enough to take on an army. After all, they were the conquerors of the Yellowstone. But now, watching the Captain catch a horse for Gus to ride back on, they all felt daunted. The vast plain was beautiful, but it had reduced Pea Eye to a scarred wreck. And the Indians had Gus holed up somewhere. They might kill him and the Captain too. All men were mortal, and they felt particularly so. A thousand Indians might come by nightfall. The Indians might fall on them as they had fallen on Custer.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“There he is,” Dish said suddenly. “If it ain’t Pea.” Dish was almost stunned with surprise. Pea was no longer walking. He was sitting down in the grass, naked, nodding his head as if in conversation with somebody. When he heard them he looked around, as if not particularly surprised, but when they dismounted there were tears in his eyes.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
All the way north everyone had been trying to convince Jasper that it didn’t really make any difference how deep a river was, once it got deep enough to swim a horse, but Jasper felt the argument violated common sense. The deeper the river, the more dangerous—that was axiomatic to him. He had heard about something called undercurrents, which could suck you down. The deeper the river, the farther down you could be sucked, and Jasper had a profound fear of being sucked down. Particularly he didn’t want to be sucked down in the Yellowstone, and had made himself a pair of rude floats from some empty lard buckets, just in case the Yellowstone really did turn out to be as deep as the Mississippi.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The men had had the last of Po Campo’s water that morning, barely enough to wet their tongues. Po Campo doled it out with severity, careful to see that no one got more than his share. Though the old man had walked the whole distance, using his ax-handle cane, he seemed not particularly tired.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇