“I suspect that girl has Indian blood,” Hutto said. “She had us ambushed, fair and square, and if she was as good with a pistol as she is with a rock we’d be dead.” “What’s the matter with her?” July asked. “Why won’t she come?” “I don’t know,” Roscoe said. “She don’t take to company, I guess.” July thought it a very odd business. Roscoe had never been one to womanize. In fact, around Fort Smith his skill in avoiding various widow women had often been commented on. And yet he had somehow taken up with a girl who could throw rocks more accurately than most men could shoot.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“No,” the cook said. “I’m planning to marry and settle down here in north Texas.” “I hope you marry somebody who can cook,” Wilbarger said. “If you do, let me know. When she gets ready to leave you, I’ll hire her.” He looked around at Joe. “Need a job, son?” he asked. “We need a boy that don’t ask questions and is handy with an ax. I don’t know about your chopping skills, but you ain’t asked a question yet.” Wilbarger seemed serious, and July was tempted to let Joe do it. Going north with a herd would be good experience for him. The main advantage, though, was that he himself could then travel alone, with just his thoughts. Without Joe to look after, he could better accomplish the main task ahead, which was to find Elmira.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Call considered it. Deets was a fine tracker, not to mention a cool hand. He could be of some help to Gus. But the girl was none of his affair, and they needed Deets’s scouting skills. Water might get scarcer and harder to find once they struck the plains.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Not for you, it ain’t,” Augustus said. “You’ve got to stay here and keep this cow herd pointed for the north star.” “That’s right,” Call said quickly. Losing Gus was all right—he seldom worked anyway. But Dish was their best hand. He had already turned two stampedes—something no one else in the outfit had the skill to manage.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“My main skills are talking and cooking biscuits,” Augustus said. “And getting drunk on the porch. I’ve probably slipped a little on the biscuits in the last few days, and I’ve lost the porch, but I can still talk with the best of them.” “Or the worst,” Call said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“How would I know?” Augustus said. “He didn’t inform me of his business. He just said he’d cut our balls off if we come north of the Canadian.” “I’d like to know why these cattle ran,” Call said. “It was a still night and we had ’em bedded down.” “Cattle don’t just run in the rain,” Augustus said. “They can run on still nights too.” “I don’t like it that Deets lost the man’s track,” Call said. “A man that Deets can’t track is a slippery man.” “Hell,” Augustus said. “Deets is just rusty. You’re rusty too. The two of you have lost your skills. Running a livery stable don’t prepare you for tracking Comancheros.” “I suppose you ain’t rusty, though,” Call said.
>> 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

“When was you ever worth anything?” Dish inquired. He himself was in rather good fettle. It always improved his mood to have his skill recognized, as it clearly was by all hands. He had managed to turn the main part of the herd out of the worst of the brush and keep it together. Even Captain Call had seemed impressed.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Have you counted the stock yet?” Call asked Augustus. The man possessed a rare skill when it came to counting animals.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Sweet music,” Lippy said cheerfully. “I’ll play your favorite song.” It was not much enticement, Lorena thought, since he played her favorite songs every time she came in the room as it was, hoping his skill at the keyboard would finally move her to let him buy a poke.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Jasper Fant fared no better, whether from love of Lorie or lack of skill, Dish didn’t know. Didn’t know, and didn’t care. All he was conscious of was that somehow he would have to outlast Jake, for there could be no woman for him except the one across the table. The very friendliness with which she treated him stung like a scorpion bite, for there was nothing special in it. She was almost as friendly to Lippy, a pure fool, and with a hole in his stomach to boot.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Augustus laughed. “I guess it ain’t hard to miss Galveston if you start from Ireland,” he said. “However, it takes skill to miss the dern United States entirely and hit Pedro Flores’ ranch. I’d like to meet men who can do that.” “You’ll get your chance,” Call said. “They don’t have mounts, unless you count a mule and a donkey. I guess we better help them out of their fix.” “I’m surprised they ain’t naked, too,” Augustus said. “I’d had thought some bandit would have stolen their clothes by now.” “Have you counted these horses, or have you been sitting here jawing?” Call said brusquely. The night was turning out to be more complicated and less profitable than he had hoped.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“For us,” Call said. “We can come back and pick them up tomorrow night. I bet it was four hundred or more.” “Them of us that wants to can, I guess,” Augustus said. “I ain’t worked two nights running since I can remember.” “You never worked two nights running,” Jake said as he swung back up on his horse. “Not unless you was working at a lady, anyhow.” “How far have we come, Deets?” Call asked. Deets had one amazing skill—he could judge distances traveled better than any man Call had ever known. And he could do it in the daytime, at night, in all weathers, and in brush.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Newt took the gun and slipped it out of its holster. It smelted faintly of oil—the Captain must have oiled it that day. It was not the first time he had held a pistol, of course. Mr. Gus had given him thorough training in pistol shooting and had even complimented him on his skill. But holding one and actually having one of your own were two different things. He turned the cylinder of the Colt and listened to the small, clear clicks it made. The grip was wood, the barrel cool and blue; the holster had kept a faint smell of saddle soap. He slipped the gun back in its holster, put the gun belt around his waist and felt the gun’s solid weight against his hip. When he walked out into the lots to catch his horse, he felt grown and complete for the first time in his life. The sun was just easing down toward the Western horizon, the bullbats weredipping toward the stone stock tank that Deets and the Captain had built long ago. Deets had already caught Mr. Gus’s horse, a big solid sorrel they called Mud Pie, and was catching his own mount. Newt shook out a loop, and on the first throw caught his own favorite, a dun gelding he called Mouse. He felt he could even rope better with the gun on his hip.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

One thing Dish prided himself on was his skill at driving a buggy; it occurred to him that since Lorena seemed to spend most of her time cooped up in the Dry Bean, she might appreciate a buggy ride along the river in a smart buggy, if such a creature could be found in Lonesome Dove. He got up and carried his plate to the wash bucket.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

To Call’s regret he had never been able to come awake easily. His joints felt like they were filled with glue, and it was in irritation to see Augustus sitting on the black kettle looking as fresh as if he’d slept all night, when in fact he had probably played poker till one or two o’clock. Getting up early and feeling awake was the one skill he had never truly perfected—he got up, of course, but it never felt natural.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

There was only one horse hitched outside the Dry Bean when Augustus strolled up—a rangy sorrel that he recognized as belonging to a cowboy named Dishwater Boggett, so named because he had once rushed into camp so thirsty from a dry drive that he wouldn’t wait his turn at the water barrel and had filled up on some dishwater the cook had been about to throw out. Seeing the sorrel gave Augustus a prime feeling because Dish Boggett loved card playing, though he lacked even minimal skills. Of course he also probably lacked ante money, but that didn’t necessarily rule out a game. Dish was a good hand and could always get hired—Augustus didn’t mind playing for futures with such a man.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Of course, real scouting skills were superfluous in a place as tame as Lonesome Dove, but Call still liked to get out at night, sniff the breeze and let the country talk. The country talked quiet; one human voice could drown it out, particularly if it was a voice as loud as Augustus McCrae’s. Augustus was notorious all over Texas for the strength of his voice. On a still night he could be heard at least a mile, even if he was more or less whispering. Call did his best to get out of range of Augustus’s voice so that he could relax and pay attention to other sounds. If nothing else, he might get a clue as to what weather was coming—not that there was much mystery about the weather around Lonesome Dove. If a man looked straight up at the stars he was apt to get dizzy, the night was so clear. Clouds were scarcer than cash money, and cash money was scarce enough.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Git from here, shoat,” Augustus said. “If you’re that hungry go hunt up another snake.” It occurred to him that a leather belt couldn’t be much tougher or less palatable than the fried goat Bolivar served up three or four times a week. The old man had been a competent Mexican bandit before he ran out of steam and crossed the river. Since then he had led a quiet life, but it was a fact that goat kept turning up on the table. The Hat Creek Cattle Company didn’t trade in them, and it was unlikely that Bolivar was buying them out of his own pocket—stealing goats was probably his way of keeping up his old skills. His old skills did not include cooking. The goat meat tasted like it had been fried in tar, but Augustus was the only member of the establishment sensitive enough to raise a complaint. “Bol, where’d you get the tar you fried this goat in?” he asked regularly, his quiet attempt at wit falling as usual on deaf ears. Bolivar ignored all queries, direct or indirect.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

"It's a tough job, son. Build your people skills." Yeah, thanks, Dad.
>> 侏罗纪世界2 Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom (2018) Movie Script

They learn social skills.
>> 侏罗纪世界1 Jurassic World （2015）Movie Script

There would have thought this Why use this Commander Chen thought arc you do not deserve to be your skill.
>> 长城 The Great Wall Movie Script

And thanks to you, for your skill and courage you.
>> 长城 The Great Wall Movie Script

COSMO INTERVIEWER GIRL Do you have any clerical skills?
>> 美国骗局 American Hustle Movie Script

Start your interviewing skills.
>> 心灵点滴 Patch Adams (1998) Movie Script