布达佩斯大饭店,英文台词

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布达佩斯大饭店短语学习

Action EnglishChloe2014-10-26 A: Good evening, my dear audience. So glad to see you again this semester. This is Action English. I’m ___.B: And I’m ___. Guess you had missed us this summerholiday crazily!A: For tonight, we’re gonna to share learning the lines from the movie, The Grand Budapest Hotel, with you.B: Which has the glorious picturesque scenes, rich connotations, and, for no doubt, authentic and beautiful sentences.A,B: Now, let’s start for today!A: 让我们来听听今天的来自布达佩斯大饭店的第一段原声。

0:01:55.24--0:01:58.86That he simply dreams up his stories out of thin air.在电影的开始，剧中的Author说到人们总是会犯一个常见的错误，那就是以为作者的故事能凭空出现。

out of thin air，按照字面意思来看就是从稀薄的空气中，那么就不难理解出它是凭空、无中生有的意思啦。

举个例子：B: Credit, of course, will not produce out of thin air. 信用当然不会凭空产生。

另外，它还有凭空出现的意思。

B: 再来听下一句原声。

0:44:44.55--0:44:47.02You hit on the nail of the head,Mr. Gustave.这里是四个监狱小伙伴和Mr. Gustave商量越狱的事情时，Mr. Gustave一下子说出他们面临的最大问题——打算怎么穿透这个25英寸的花岗岩加固砌成的下水道。

《布达佩斯大饭店》读书笔记

《布达佩斯大饭店》读书笔记《布达佩斯大饭店》里，在逃亡的火车上，古斯塔夫对Zero（零）说：“即使世界混乱疯狂如屠宰场，还是有文明的微光出现，那便是人性。

”真心祈祷这个小姑娘能够早日恢复健康，快乐成长。

有一天，她能看到，是她的父母、她的亲人，还有那些关爱她的陌生人，让她黑暗之中也能看见光明。

这是一场爱与善意的接力。

3年来，每次往返北京，我都会请健和——这位年轻、勇敢的父亲来接我，一路车程，是我们两个男人之间独特的生命对白时刻。

他分享所有，我触摸一切。

就在我写这篇文章前不久，健和给我打了一通电话，平日里他很少主动和我联系，这是男人特有的规矩与分寸，他怕打扰我的生活。

我接通电话，那边他已哭得喘不过气来。

我安静地听着他哭了一会儿，等他的哭声渐渐微弱，我问他：“怎么了，发生什么事了？”他说：“医生让我签字，是否同意给女儿进行手术。

手术不做，孩子可能撑不过半年；但做了，她的另一只眼睛也可能保不住。

”两难之间。

健和呜咽着说：“不签，我就是杀我女儿的凶手；签了，我就是让她一辈子看不见的罪人。

你说，我到底该怎么办？”手术最终很成功。

虽然此后的漫漫人生，这个5岁的小女孩儿每隔半年都需要去医院做一次复检；虽然他们一家人仍然需要继续战斗，保住孩子的另一只眼睛，但是，这个年轻的父亲，与他的父母、妻子一起，卖房卖车，砸锅卖铁，硬生生用了3年的时间，把他的女儿从死亡边缘抢救了回来。

我为这个同龄人的勇气与坚忍所震动。

3年来，与其说是我在帮助他，不如说在我生命的每一个灰色瞬间，他都在激励、鼓舞着我。

我曾问健和：“后悔当初的选择吗？”他回答：“我觉得父母为孩子做的事，从来都不后悔。

”我多么想对这个不幸又幸运的小女孩儿说：“丫头，你接下来的人生路不好走，但相信你的爸爸妈妈因你而生长的坚忍、勇敢与爱，也能如沙漠里的生石花，牢牢生长在你身上。

即使命运残败，生命依然值得。

这是你的爸爸妈妈送给你最好的礼物。

”《做不抱怨的教师》教师读书笔记俗话说得好：“好工作不如好身体，好身体不如好情绪。

布达佩斯大饭店,英文台词

it is an extremely common mistake,people think the writer's imagination is always at work,that he's constantly inventing an endless supply of incidents and episodes,that he simply dreams up his stories out of thin air.In point of fact, the opposite is true.Once the public knows you're a writer,they bring the characters and events to youand as long as you maintain your ability to look and to carefully listen,these stories will continue to...Stop it. Stop it! Don't! Don't do it!Uh, will continue to seek you out over your lifetime.To him who has often told the tales of others, many tales will be told.Sorry. It's all right.The incidents that follow were described to me exactly as I present them hereand in a wholly unexpected way.A number of years ago,while suffering from a mild case of "Scribe's Fever,"a form of neurasthenia common amongthe intelligentsia of that time,I decided to spend the month of Augustin the spa town of Nebelsbad below the Alpine Sudetenwaltz,and had taken up rooms in the Grand Budapest,a picturesque, elaborate, and once widely celebrated establishment.I expect some of you will know it.YOUNG WRITER: It was off season and, by that time, decidedly out of fashion,and it had already begun its descentinto shabbiness and eventual demolition. What few guests we werehad quickly come to recognize one another by sightas the only living souls residing in the vast establishment,although I do not believe any acquaintance among our number had proceededbeyond the polite nods we exchanged as we passedin the Palm Court,in the Arabian baths,and on board the Colonnade Funicular.We were a very reserved group, it seemed, and, without exception, solitary.Perhaps as a result of this general silence, I had established a casual and bantering familiaritywith the hotel's concierge, a West-continentalknown only as Monsieur Jean,who struck one as being, at once,both lazy and, really, quite accommodating. I expect he was not well paid.In any case, one evening,as I stood conferring elbow-to-elbow with Monsieur Jean,as had become my habit, I noticed a new presence in our company.A small, elderly man, smartly dressed,with an exceptionally lively, intelligent faceand an immediately perceptible air of sadness.He was, like the rest of us, alone, but also, I must say,he was the first that struck one as being deeply and truly lonely.A symptom of my own medical condition as well.Who's this interesting old fellow?I inquired of Monsieur Jean.To my surprise, he was distinctly taken aback.Don't you know? He asked.Don't you recognize him?He did look familiar.That's Mr. Moustafa himself.He arrived earlier this morning.This name will no doubt be familiarto the more seasoned persons among you. Mr. Zero Moustafa was at one time the richest man in Zubrowka,and was still indeed the owner of the Grand Budapest.He often comes and stays a week or more,three times a year at least, but never in the season.Monsieur Jean signaled to me and I leaned closer.I'll tell you a secret.He takes only a single-bed sleeping room without a bathin the rear corner of the top floorand it's smaller than the service elevator!It was well known,Zero Moustafa had purchased and famously inhabitedsome of the most lavish castles and palazzos on the continent.Yet here, in his own nearly empty hotel, he occupied a servant's quarters?At that moment, the curtain roseon a parenthetical, domestic drama... Shit....which required the immediate and complete attentionof Monsieur Jean,but, frankly, did not hold mine for long. However,this premature intermission in the story of the curious, old manhad left me, as the expression goes, "gespannt wie ein Flitzebogen,"that is, on the edge of my seat,where I remained throughout the next morning, until,in what I have found to be its mysterious and utterly reliable fashion,fate, once again, intervened on my behalf. MR. MOUSTAFA: I admire your work.I beg your pardon?I said, I know and admire your wonderful work. Thank you most kindly, sir.Did Monsieur Jean have a word or two to share with youabout the aged proprietor of this establishment?I must confess, I did myself inquire about you. He's perfectly capable, of course, Monsieur Jean but we can't claim he's a first,or, in earnest, even second-rate concierge.But there it is.Times have changed. The thermal baths are very beautiful.They were in their first condition.It couldn't be maintained, of course.Too decadent for current tastes.But I love it all just the same, this enchanting old ruin.How did you come to buy it, if I may ask?The Grand Budapest.I didn't.If you're not merely being polite,and you must tell me if that's the case,but if it genuinely does interest you,may I invite you to dine with me tonight,and it will be my pleasure and, indeed, my privilege to tell you"my story." Such as it is.Two ducks roasted with olives.Rabbit, salad? Mmm.Pouilly-Jouvet '52, plus a split of the brut. That should provide us ample timeif I commence promptly.By all means.Well, it begins, as it must, with our mutual friend's predecessor.The beloved, original concierge of The Grand Budapest.It begins, of course, with...Bring the table to the window. Yes, Monsieur Gustave.Bring the tray to the table. Right away, Monsieur Gustave.Right there. Have those been brushed and blocked? Of course, Monsieur Gustave. Pack them in the hat boxes.Is that from Oberstdorf & Company?I believe so, Monsieur Gustave.Second trunk. Who has the tickets? I do, Monsieur Gustave.Give them to me.These are in order. Wait in the corner.I'm not leaving.I beg your pardon?I'm not leaving. Why not?I'm frightened. Of what?I fear this may be the last time we ever see each other.Why on earth would that be the case?Well, I can't put it into words, but I feel it. For goodness sake, there's no reasonfor you to leave us if you'd...Come with me.To fucking Lutz?Please. Give me your hand.You've nothing to fear. You're always anxious before you travel.I admit, you appear to be sufferinga more acute attack on this occasion.But, truly and honestly... Oh, dear God.What have you done to your fingernails?I beg your pardon? This diabolical varnish.The color is completely wrong. Don't you like it? It's not that I don't like it. I am physically repulsed.Perhaps this will soothe you.What? Don't recite.Just listen to the words. Hush.Please. Not now."While questing once in noble wood of gray, medieval pine,"I came upon a tomb, rain-slick'd, rubbed-cool, ethereal,"'its inscription long-vanished,"yet still within its melancholy fissures..." MADAME D.: Will you light a candle for me, please? In the sacristy of Santa Maria?GUSTAVE H: I'll see to it myself immediately. Remember, I'm always with you.I love you.I love you.It's quite a thing winning the loyalty of a woman like thatfor 19 consecutive seasons.Um... Yes, sir.She's very fond of me, you know.Yes, sir.But I've never seen her like that before.No, sir.She was shaking like a shitting dog.Truly.Run to the cathedral of Santa Maria in Brucknerplatz.Buy one of the plain, half-length candlesand take back four Klubecks in change.Light it in the sacristy, say a brief rosary then go to Mendl's and get me a courtesan au chocolat.If there's any money left, give it to the crippled shoe-shine boy.Right away, sir.Hold it.Who are you?I'm Zero, sir. The new Lobby Boy.Zero, you say? Yes, sir.I've never heard of you, never laid eyes on you. Who hired you?Mr. Mosher, sir.Mr. Mosher!Yes, Monsieur Gustave?Am I to understand you've surreptitiously hired this young manin the position of a Lobby Boy?He's been engaged for a trial period,pending your approval, of course.Uh...Perhaps, yes. Thank you, Mr. Mosher.You're most welcome, Monsieur Gustave.You're now going to be officially interviewed. Should I go and light the candle first, sir? What? No.Experience?Hotel Kinski, Kitchen Boy, six months.Hotel Berlitz, Mop and Broom Boy, three months. Before that I was a Skillet Scrubber... Experience, zero.Thank you again, Monsieur Gustave.Straighten that cap, Anatole.The pleasure's mine, Herr Schneider. The strap's busted.These are not acceptable. I fully agree. Education?I studied reading and spelling.I started my primary school. I almost... Education, zero.Now it's exploded.Good morning, Cicero. Call the goddamn plumber! This afternoon, Monsieur Gustave?Without fail, Frau Liebling.What in hell is this? Not now.Family?Zero.Six, Igor.Why do you want to be a Lobby Boy?Well, who wouldn't, at the Grand Budapest, sir? It's an institution.Very good.A thousand Klubecks.My goodness.Were you ever a Lobby Boy, sir?What do you think?Well, I suppose you'd have to start somewhere... Go and light the goddamn candle. Yes, sir.MR. MOUSTAFA: And so, my life began.Junior Lobby Boy in-training,Grand Budapest Hotel,under the strict command of Monsieur Gustave H.I became his pupil, and he was to be my counselor and guardian.GUSTAVE H: What is a Lobby Boy?A Lobby Boy's completely invisible, yet always in sight.A Lobby Boy remembers what people hate. A Lobby Boy anticipates the client's needs before the needs are needed.A Lobby Boy is, above all, discreet to a fault.Our guests know their deepest secrets,some of which are, frankly, rather unseemly,will go with us to our graves.So keep your mouth shut, Zero.Yes, sir.That's all for now.MR. MOUSTAFA: I began to realize that many of the hotel'smost valued and distinguished guests came for him.It seemed to be an essential part of his duties...Ah!...but I believe it was also his pleasure. The requirements were always the same.They had to be rich,old,insecure,vain,superficial,blonde,needy. Why blonde?Because they all were.He was, by the way,the most liberally perfumed man I had ever encountered.The scent announced his approach from a great distanceand lingered for many minutes after he was gone.I worked six days each week plus a half-day Sunday,5:00 AM until just after midnight.Our meals were small but frequent, for stamina.Two breakfasts, two lunches and a late supper.Monsieur Gustave also delivered a nightly sermon.Rudeness is merely the expression of fear. People fear they won't get what they want.The most dreadful and unattractive person only needs to be loved,and they will open up like a flower.I am reminded of a verse,"The painter's brush touched the inchoate face "by ends of nimble bristles"and with their blush of first color,"rendered her lifeless cheek living."MR. MOUSTAFA: His own dinner, he took alone in his room.The identity of the owner of the hotel was unknown to all of us.Each month, his emissary, known as Deputy Kovacs, arrivedto review the books and convey messageson behalf of the mysterious proprietor.On these occasions, Monsieur Gustave and our business manager,Herr Becker, met with him in private consultation above Reception.This was also when I met Agatha,but we won't discuss that.What do you want? Look.GUSTAVE H: Dear God.I'm terribly sorry, sir.We must go to her.We must?Tout de suite. She needs me, and I needyou to help me with my bags and so on.How fast can you pack? Five minutes.Do it. And bring a bottle of the Pouilly-Jouvet '26 in an ice bucket with two glassesso we don't have to drink the cat piss they serve in the dining car.I blame myself.She tried to tell me she had a premonition. I didn't listen.All of Lutz will be dressed in black,except her own ghastly, deceitful children whom she loathed and couldn't bear to kiss hello. They'll be dancing like gypsies.There's really no point in doing anything in life, because it's all over in the blink of an eye... And, the next thing you know, rigor mortis sets in. Oh, how the good die young.With any luck, she's left a few Klubecks for your old friend,but one never knows until the inkis dry on the death certificate.She was dynamite in the sack, by the way.She was 84, Monsieur Gustave.I've had older.When you're young, it's all fillet steak,but as the years go by, you have to move on to the cheaper cuts,which is fine with me, because I like those. More flavorful, or so they say.Why are we stopping at a barley field?Well, hello there, chaps.Documents, please.With pleasure.It's not a very flattering portrait, I'm afraid.I was once considered a great beauty.What does the "F" stand for? Fritz? Franz? Franz.I knew it!He's making a funny face.That's a Migratory Visa with Stage Three Worker Status, Franz, darling.He's with me.Come outside, please.Now, wait a minute. Sit down, Zero. His papers are in order.I cross-referenced them myself with the Bureau of Labor and Servitude.You can't arrest him simply because he's a bloody immigrant.He hasn't done anything wrong.Stop it, damn you!Never mind, Monsieur Gustave! Let them proceed! GUSTAVE H: Ow! That hurts!You filthy, goddamn, pock-marked, fascist assholes!Take your hands off my Lobby Boy!What's the problem?This is outrageous.The young man works for me at the Grand Budapest Hotel in Nebelsbad.Monsieur Gustave?My name is Henckels.I'm the son of Dr. and Mrs. Wolfgang Henckels-Bergersd?rfer.Do you remember me?I know exactly who you are. It's uncanny. You're little Albert.I'm terribly embarrassed. Release them.Release them.Hmm.Your colleague is stateless.He'll need to apply for a revised Special Transit Permit,which at this point may be very difficult to acquire.Take this.It's temporarybut it's the best I can offer, I'm afraid.And how's your wonderful mother?She's very well, thank you. I adore her.Send my love. I will.Your companion was very kind to mewhen I was a lonely little boy.My men and I apologize for disturbing you.I beg your pardon, sir.You see? There are still faint glimmers of civilizationleft in this barbaric slaughterhousethat was once known as humanity.Indeed, that's what we providein our own modest, humble, insignificant... Oh, fuck it.Where is she, Clotilde? Take me to her.You're looking so well, darling. You really are. They've done a marvelous job.I don't know what sort of creamthey've put on you down at the morgue,but I want some.Honestly, you look better than you have in years. You look like you're alive.Oh, you changed it after all. It's perfect. Clotilde? Oui, Monsieur Gustave?A glass of chilled water with no ice, please. Yes. M. Gustave ---- and. also. M. Serge would like to speak with you privately in his office. please.Oh.All right, then.I shan't be long, darling.MR. MOUSTAFA: We were escorted through a green baize door,down a narrow service corridor and into the butler's pantry.A moment later, the kitchen passage swung openand a small servant dressed in white jolted into the room.I've never forgotten the look on that man's face.What the devil is going on?I, myself, had never set foot insidea house of this kind in my life.I understood very little about the events that were to follow.But, eventually, I came to recognize,when the destiny of a great fortune is at stake,men's greed spreads like a poison in the bloodstream.Uncles, nephews, cousins,in-laws of increasingly tenuous connection.The old woman's most distant relationshad come foraging out of the woodwork.At the head of this congregation,it was a disorienting coincidence,we discovered our own Deputy Kovacs,himself an important attorney, of course. He was the executor of the dead widow's estate. This is Madame D's last will and testament.It consists of a general tontinedrawn up before the event of her husband's death 46 years ago,in combination with 635 amendments,notations, corrections, and letters of wishes executed during the subsequent decades.The ultimate legality of this accumulation requires further analysis,but in the opinion of this office, it was Madame D's intentionthat control of the vast bulk of her estate should be transferred, forthwith, to her son, Dmitri,with special allowances for his sisters, Marguerite, Laetizia, and Carolina,and minor gifts for various members of the extended familyas shown in the List of Recipients,which I will elucidate in due course. However.An additional codicil,delivered into my possession by post only this morning,and, by all indications, sent by Madame Dduring the last hours of her life,contains an amendment to the original certificate, which, as prescribed by law, I will read to you now. The authenticity of this documenthas not yet been confirmed by the presiding magistrate,so I ask that all parties be patient and refrain from commentuntil such time as our investigations can be completed."To my esteemed friend who comforted me in my later years"and brought sunshine into the life of an old woman "who thought that she would never be happy again."Monsieur Gustave H,"I bequeath, bestow and devise, free of all taxation"and with full and absolute fiduciary entitlement, "the painting known as 'Boy with Apple... Wow! "...by Johannes van Hoytl..."I can't believe it. "...the younger..."What?"...which gave us both so much pleasure."The van Hoytl?Tax-free? Can she do that?Who's Gustave H?I'm afraid that's me, darling.That fucking faggot!He's a concierge. What are you doing here?I've come to pay my respects to a great woman whom I loved.This man is an intruder in my home!It's not yours yet, Dmitri.Only when probate is granted, and the Deed of Entitlement...You're not getting Boy with Apple, you goddamn little fruit!How's that supposed to make me feel?Call the police. We're pressing charges.This criminal has plagued my family for nearly 20 years.He's a ruthless adventurer and a con-artistwho preys on mentally feeble, sick old ladies, and he probably fucks them, too!I go to bed with all my friends.Where's Céline?What?She's dead. We're reading her will.Oh, yes, yes, of course.If I learn you ever once laid a finger on my mother's body,living or dead, I swear to God,I'll out your throat! You hear me?I thought I was supposed to be a fucking faggot. You are, but you're bisexual.Let's change the subject.I'm leaving.Wait here quietly. please.That picture, Boy with Apple, is priceless. Understand?Congratulations, Monsieur Gustave!They're going to fight me for the son of a bitch. Is it very beautiful?Beyond description."E'en the most gifted bard's rhyme can only sing "but to the lack of her and all she isn't!"His tongue doth..." Can I see it?I don't see why not.This is van Hoytl's exquisite portrayal of a beautiful boy on the cusp of manhood. Blond, smooth. Skin as white as that milk.Of impeccable provenance.One of the last in private hands, and unquestionably, the best.It's a masterpiece.The rest of this shit is worthless junk.M. Gustave ?Can I help you?Yes. Serge.You can wrap this up. please.Wrap up --Wrap up -- "Boy With Apple"?What did you want to tell me, before?I think I cannot say right now.Write me tomorrow. Lutzbahn Station!I'll never part with it.It reminded her of me. It will remind me of her. Always.I'll die with this picture above my bed.See the resemblance?Oh, yes.Actually, we should sell it.Sooner rather than later, in case they try to steal it back.Plus, something about those lunaticfoot-soldiers on the express...This could be a tricky war and a long dry spell in the hotel trade.For all we know, they could board us up tomorrow. Let's make a solemn blood-pact.We'll contact the black market and liquidate Boy with Appleby the end of the week,then leave the country and lay lowsomewhere along the Maltese Rivierauntil the troubles blow over and we resume our posts.In exchange for your help, your loyaltyand your services as my personal valet,I pledge to you 1.5% of the net sale price.1.5? Plus room and board.Could we make it 10? 10? Are you joking?That's more than I'd pay an actual dealer,and you wouldn't know Chiaroscuro from chicken giblets.No, 1.5 is correct. But I'll tell you what,if I die first, and I most certainly will, you will be my sole heir.There's not much in the kitty excepta set of ivory-backed hairbrushesand my library of romantic poetry,but when the time comes, these will be yours, along with whatever we haven't already spent on whores and whiskey.This is our sacred bond.I'll draw it up right now.I, Monsieur Gustave H, being of relatively sound mind and body,on this day, the 19th of October,in the year of our Lord 1932...MR. MOUSTAFA: He never told me where he came from.I never asked who his family had been. Excuse me.Uh-huh?The police are here. They asked for you.Tell them I'll be right down.Okay.Have you ever been questioned by the authorities? Yes, on one occasion I was arrestedand tortured by the rebel militiaafter the Desert Uprising.You know the drill, then. Zip it. Of course.You've never heard the word "van Hoytl" in your life. Okay, let's go.How may we serve you, gentlemen?Ah, Inspector Henckels."By order of the Commissioner of Police, Zubrowka Province,"I hereby place you under arrest for the murder "of Madame Céline Villeneuve Desgoffe und Taxis."I knew there was something fishy.We never got the cause of death.She's been murdered and you think I did it. HENCKELS: Hey!Stop!What happened?What happened, my dear Zero, is I beat the living shitout of a sniveling little runt called Pinky Bandinskiwho had the gall to question my virility, because if there's one thing we've learned from penny dreadfuls,it's that, when you find yourself in a place like this,you must never be a candy-ass.You've got to prove yourself from Day One.You've got to win their respect.You should take a long look at his ugly mug this morning.He's, actually, become a dear friend.You'll meet him, I hope.So. You've talked to Kovacs?I saw him last night in secret.He made me take an oath on a Bible I wouldn't tell a soul.You're supposed to also.I'll do that later.He suspects you're innocent.Of course he does.What's the charge?In the small hours of the evening of 19 October, an individual well-known to the house and staff, a Monsieur Gustave H,did arrive at the Desgoffe und Taxis residence in Lutzand entered by the rear service alley,alerting no one to his presence,and did then proceed by way of back stairs and servants' passage,to deliver himself into the private chambers of Madame D.There is no evidence to indicate whether this visit had been pre-arranged with her or not.The next morning Madame D was found dead by strychnine poisoning.Monsieur Gustave was not observed on the premises againuntil, of course, 24 hours later.The identity of his accusers is madeclear in this notarized deposition.They include, essentially, all members of the extended family,but the key witness who actually ostensibly saw the alleged eventsappears to have fled the jurisdiction.His whereabouts are currently unknown,but he's being sought and pursued by the relevant authorities.。

一分钟英语电影片段摘抄

In March,you can always count on one afternoon when you least expect it.The fog slides in,a milky barrier hangs just below the street lamps,it cuts everything off.Houses lose their top floors,trees lose their branches,St Louis Cathedral loses its spires.People passing by they lose their heads.All you can see in Jackson Square is decapitated bodies stumbling around,bumping into each other saying"How's your mama and them?"在三月，总有一个在你期待中的下午，浓雾笼罩，弥漫在街灯周围，如同一把乳白色的剑，切断了一切。

房子没了屋顶，树木没了枝桠，圣路易斯教堂没了尖顶，路人没了脑袋。

杰克逊广场上游荡着一个个无头的身体，互相问候着你妈妈还好吗。

And the world passes me by,but only two thousand people at a time.And there were wishes here,but never more than fit between prow and stern.You played out your happiness,on a piano that was not infinite.I learnt to live that way.整个世界从我身上路过，可船上一次只携带两千人。

这里也有欲望和期待，可从不会虚妄到超出船头和船尾。

布达佩斯大饭店英文

Thirdly,instead of bombarding viewers with the realities of life in a Nazi-occupied nation, the movie subtly reminds them of this bitter chapter in world history.That is "The Grand Budapest Hotel", the latest dramatic microcosm from Wes Anderson.
Secondly,the story centers on Mr H gustav, the hotel’s concierge, and his promising young protégé, Zero . After one of the hotel’s prominent guests passes away, Gustave is awarded her most prized possession– a painting. Outraged at having lost the heirloom to Gustave, the woman’s son initiates a deadly manhunt that eventually drives our concierge into prison. Gustave and Zero must rely on each other to elude their adversaries without losing track of the painting.
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Welcome To The Grand Budapest Hotel

布达佩斯大饭店经典台词大全

布达佩斯大饭店经典台词大全经典台词：Rudeness is merely an expression of fear.无礼只是恐惧的一种表露。

You see, there are still faint glimmers of civilization left in this barbaric slaughterhouse that was once known as humanity.你看，仍有微弱的文明曙光这野蛮的屠宰场，曾经被称为人类。

看见没，在这个野蛮的屠宰场里，还是残存着一些，曾被称为人性的文明之光的，没错，这就是我们所能提供的，以谦虚、谦逊、谦卑的姿态。

去他妈的。

When you'er young, it's all fillet steak. But as the years go by, you have to move on to the cheaper cats.年轻的时候，你总想要最好的。

但随着时间流逝，你不得不选择一些便宜货。

活着的时候做什么都没有意义。

I was once considered a great beauty。

我曾经被认为是一个伟大的美。

一旦为利益而争，人类的贪念就像毒药般在血液里扩散。

在野蛮的屠宰场，仍有一丝文明的微光，这就是人性。

Take your hands off my lobby boy!还好在这野蛮不复文明的世界里尚有一丝人性存在。

People fear they won’t get what they want.The most dreadful and unattractive person only needs to be loved,and they will open up like a flower.人们恐惧无法得到所想，只要最为可怕、不讨人喜爱的人被爱，他们便会像花儿般绽放。

结果我没能登上富士山，我已经老去。

(完整word版)布达佩斯大饭店,英文台词

(完整word版)布达佩斯大饭店,英文台词it is an extremely common mistake,people think the writer's imagination is always at work，that he’s constantly inventing an endless supplyof incidents and episodes，that he simply dreams up his stories out of thin air.In point of fact, the opposite is true。

Once the public knows you’re a writer,they bring the characters and events to you and as long as you maintain your ability to look and to carefully listen，these stories will continue to。

.Stop it。

Stop it! Don't！ Don't do it！Uh， will continue to seek you out over your lifetime.To him who has often told the tales of others, many tales will be told.Sorry。

It’s all right.The incidents that follow were described to me exactly as I present them hereand in a wholly unexpected way.〈i>A number of years ago,〈/i〉〈i〉while suffering from a mild case of ”Scribe’s Fever,”a form of neurasthenia common among〈/i〉〈i〉the intelligentsia of that time,〈/i><i〉I decided to spend the month of August</i〉<i〉in the spa town of Nebelsbad below the Alpine Sudetenwaltz,<i〉and had taken up rooms in the Grand Budapest,</i〉〈i>a picturesque, elaborate, and once widely celebrated establishment。

东京大饭店的情感语录英语

东京大饭店的情感语录英语"The Grand Budapest Hotel," directed by Wes Anderson, is a film rich in visual splendor and emotional depth. Here are some poignant quotes from the movie that have resonated with audiences, translated into English:1. "There are still faint glimmers of civilization left in this barbaric slaughterhouse that was once known as humanity." - Gustave H.(这句话体现了古斯塔夫先生对于人性中残存的文明光辉的感慨。

)2. "You see, there are still faint glimmers that the hopes and dreams I had for us have not all gone." - Zero Moustafa (这句话是穆斯塔法先生表达他对与古斯塔夫先生之间关系所抱有的希望和梦想尚未完全破灭。

)3. "I think his world had vanished long before he ever entered it. But I will say, he certainly sustained the appearance of it with a great deal of grace." - M. Jean(这句话是让先生对古斯塔夫先生保持其世界外观的优雅所给予的赞赏。

)4. "A lobby boy must be smiling and bright, eyes open wide." - Gustave H.(这句话是古斯塔夫先生对门童应有的职业态度的描述。

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it is an extremely common mistake,people think the writer's imagination is always at work, that he's constantly inventing an endless supplyof incidents and episodes,that he simply dreams up his stories out of thin air.In point of fact, the opposite is true.Once the public knows you're a writer,they bring the characters and events to youand as long as you maintain your ability to lookand to carefully listen,these stories will continue to...Stop it. Stop it! Don't! Don't do it!Uh, will continue to seek you out over your lifetime. To him who has often told the tales of others,many tales will be told.Sorry. It's all right.The incidents that follow were described to me exactly as I present them hereand in a wholly unexpected way.A number of years ago,while suffering from a mild case of "Scribe's Fever,"a form of neurasthenia common among the intelligentsia of that time,I decided to spend the month of Augustin the spa town of Nebelsbad below the Alpine Sudetenwaltz,and had taken up rooms in the Grand Budapest,a picturesque, elaborate, and once widely celebrated establishment.I expect some of you will know it.YOUNG WRITER: It was off season and, by that time, decidedly out of fashion,and it had already begun its descentinto shabbiness and eventual demolition.What few guests we werehad quickly come to recognize one another by sightas the only living souls residing in the vast establishment,although I do not believe any acquaintance among our number had proceededbeyond the polite nods we exchanged as we passedin the Palm Court,in the Arabian baths,and on board the Colonnade Funicular.We were a very reserved group, it seemed,and, without exception, solitary.Perhaps as a result of this general silence,I had established a casual and bantering familiaritywith the hotel's concierge, a West-continental known only as Monsieur Jean,who struck one as being, at once,both lazy and, really, quite accommodating.I expect he was not well paid.In any case, one evening,as I stood conferring elbow-to-elbow with Monsieur Jean,as had become my habit, I noticed a new presence in our company.A small, elderly man, smartly dressed,with an exceptionally lively, intelligent faceand an immediately perceptible air of sadness. He was, like the rest of us, alone, but also, I must say,he was the first that struck one as being deeply and truly lonely.A symptom of my own medical condition as well.Who's this interesting old fellow?I inquired of Monsieur Jean.To my surprise, he was distinctly taken aback. Don't you know? He asked.Don't you recognize him?He did look familiar.That's Mr. Moustafa himself.He arrived earlier this morning.This name will no doubt be familiarto the more seasoned persons among you.Mr. Zero Moustafa was at one time the richest man in Zubrowka,and was still indeed the owner of the Grand Budapest.He often comes and stays a week or more,three times a year at least, but never in the season. Monsieur Jean signaled to me and I leaned closer.I'll tell you a secret.He takes only a single-bed sleeping room without abathin the rear corner of the top floorand it's smaller than the service elevator!It was well known,Zero Moustafa had purchased and famously inhabitedsome of the most lavish castles and palazzos on the continent.Yet here, in his own nearly empty hotel,he occupied a servant's quarters?At that moment, the curtain roseon a parenthetical, domestic drama...Shit....which required the immediate and complete attentionof Monsieur Jean,but, frankly, did not hold mine for long. However,this premature intermission in the story of the curious, old manhad left me, as the expression goes, "gespannt wie ein Flitzebogen,"that is, on the edge of my seat, where I remained throughout the next morning, until,in what I have found to be its mysterious and utterly reliable fashion,fate, once again, intervened on my behalf. MR. MOUSTAFA: I admire your work.I beg your pardon?I said, I know and admire your wonderful work. Thank you most kindly, sir.Did Monsieur Jean have a word or two to share with youabout the aged proprietor of this establishment?I must confess, I did myself inquire about you.He's perfectly capable, of course, Monsieur Jeanbut we can't claim he's a first,or, in earnest, even second-rate concierge.But there it is.Times have changed.The thermal baths are very beautiful.They were in their first condition.It couldn't be maintained, of course.Too decadent for current tastes.But I love it all just the same, this enchanting old ruin.How did you come to buy it, if I may ask?The Grand Budapest.I didn't.If you're not merely being polite,and you must tell me if that's the case,but if it genuinely does interest you,may I invite you to dine with me tonight,and it will be my pleasure and, indeed, my privilege to tell you"my story." Such as it is.Two ducks roasted with olives.Rabbit, salad? Mmm.Pouilly-Jouvet '52, plus a split of the brut.That should provide us ample timeif I commence promptly.By all means.Well, it begins, as it must, with our mutual friend's predecessor.The beloved, original concierge of The Grand Budapest.It begins, of course, with...Bring the table to the window. Yes, Monsieur Gustave. Bring the tray to the table. Right away, Monsieur Gustave.Right there. Have those been brushed and blocked? Of course, Monsieur Gustave. Pack them in the hat boxes.Is that from Oberstdorf & Company?I believe so, Monsieur Gustave.Second trunk. Who has the tickets? I do, Monsieur Gustave.Give them to me.These are in order. Wait in the corner.I'm not leaving.I beg your pardon?I'm not leaving. Why not?I'm frightened. Of what?I fear this may be the last time we ever see each other.Why on earth would that be the case?Well, I can't put it into words, but I feel it.For goodness sake, there's no reasonfor you to leave us if you'd...Come with me.To fucking Lutz?Please. Give me your hand.You've nothing to fear. You're always anxious before you travel.I admit, you appear to be sufferinga more acute attack on this occasion.But, truly and honestly... Oh, dear God.What have you done to your fingernails?I beg your pardon? This diabolical varnish.The color is completely wrong. Don't you like it?It's not that I don't like it. I am physically repulsed. Perhaps this will soothe you.What? Don't recite.Just listen to the words. Hush.Please. Not now."While questing once in noble wood of gray, medieval pine,"I came upon a tomb, rain-slick'd, rubbed-cool, ethereal,"'its inscription long-vanished,"yet still within its melancholy fissures..."MADAME D.: Will you light a candle for me, please? In the sacristy of Santa Maria?GUSTAVE H: I'll see to it myself immediately. Remember, I'm always with you. I love you.I love you.It's quite a thing winning the loyalty of a woman like thatfor 19 consecutive seasons.Um... Yes, sir.She's very fond of me, you know.Yes, sir.But I've never seen her like that before.No, sir.She was shaking like a shitting dog.Truly.Run to the cathedral of Santa Maria in Brucknerplatz. Buy one of the plain, half-length candlesand take back four Klubecks in change.Light it in the sacristy, say a brief rosarythen go to Mendl's and get me a courtesan au chocolat.If there's any money left, give it to the crippled shoe-shine boy.Right away, sir.Hold it.Who are you?I'm Zero, sir. The new Lobby Boy.Zero, you say? Yes, sir.I've never heard of you, never laid eyes on you.Who hired you?Mr. Mosher, sir.Mr. Mosher!Yes, Monsieur Gustave?Am I to understand you've surreptitiously hired this young manin the position of a Lobby Boy?He's been engaged for a trial period,pending your approval, of course.Uh...Perhaps, yes. Thank you, Mr. Mosher.You're most welcome, Monsieur Gustave.You're now going to be officially interviewed.Should I go and light the candle first, sir?What? No.Experience?Hotel Kinski, Kitchen Boy, six months.Hotel Berlitz, Mop and Broom Boy, three months. Before that I was a Skillet Scrubber...Experience, zero. Thank you again, Monsieur Gustave.Straighten that cap, Anatole.The pleasure's mine, Herr Schneider. The strap's busted.These are not acceptable. I fully agree.Education?I studied reading and spelling.I started my primary school. I almost...Education, zero.Now it's exploded.Good morning, Cicero. Call the goddamn plumber! This afternoon, Monsieur Gustave?Without fail, Frau Liebling.What in hell is this? Not now.Family?Zero.Six, Igor.Why do you want to be a Lobby Boy?Well, who wouldn't, at the Grand Budapest, sir?It's an institution.Very good.A thousand Klubecks.My goodness.Were you ever a Lobby Boy, sir?What do you think?Well, I suppose you'd have to start somewhere...Go and light the goddamn candle. Yes, sir.MR. MOUSTAFA: And so, my life began.Junior Lobby Boy in-training,Grand Budapest Hotel,under the strict command of Monsieur Gustave H.I became his pupil, and he was to be my counselor and guardian.GUSTAVE H: What is a Lobby Boy?A Lobby Boy's completely invisible, yet always in sight.A Lobby Boy remembers what people hate.A Lobby Boy anticipates the client's needsbefore the needs are needed.A Lobby Boy is, above all, discreet to a fault. Our guests know their deepest secrets,some of which are, frankly, rather unseemly,will go with us to our graves.So keep your mouth shut, Zero.Yes, sir. That's all for now.MR. MOUSTAFA: I began to realize that many of the hotel'smost valued and distinguished guests came for him.It seemed to be an essential part of his duties... Ah!...but I believe it was also his pleasure.The requirements were always the same.They had to be rich,old,insecure,vain,superficial,blonde,needy.Why blonde?Because they all were.He was, by the way,the most liberally perfumed man I had ever encountered.The scent announced his approach from a great distanceand lingered for many minutes after he was gone.I worked six days each week plus a half-day Sunday,5:00 AM until just after midnight.Our meals were small but frequent, for stamina.Two breakfasts, two lunches and a late supper. Monsieur Gustave also delivered a nightly sermon.Rudeness is merely the expression of fear.People fear they won't get what they want.The most dreadful and unattractive person only needs to be loved,and they will open up like a flower.I am reminded of a verse,"The painter's brush touched the inchoate face"by ends of nimble bristles"and with their blush of first color,"rendered her lifeless cheek living."MR. MOUSTAFA: His own dinner, he took alone in his room.The identity of the owner of the hotel was unknown to all of us.Each month, his emissary, known as Deputy Kovacs, arrivedto review the books and convey messageson behalf of the mysterious proprietor.On these occasions, Monsieur Gustave and our business manager,Herr Becker, met with him in private consultation above Reception.This was also when I met Agatha,but we won't discuss that.What do you want? Look.GUSTAVE H: Dear God.I'm terribly sorry, sir.We must go to her.We must?Tout de suite. She needs me, and I needyou to help me with my bags and so on.How fast can you pack? Five minutes.Do it. And bring a bottle of the Pouilly-Jouvet '26in an ice bucket with two glassesso we don't have to drink the cat piss they serve in the dining car.I blame myself.She tried to tell me she had a premonition. I didn't listen.All of Lutz will be dressed in black,except her own ghastly, deceitful childrenwhom she loathed and couldn't bear to kiss hello. They'll be dancing like gypsies.There's really no point in doing anything in life, because it's all over in the blink of an eye...And, the next thing you know, rigor mortis sets in. Oh, how the good die young.With any luck, she's left a few Klubecks for your old friend,but one never knows until the inkis dry on the death certificate.She was dynamite in the sack, by the way.She was 84, Monsieur Gustave.I've had older.When you're young, it's all fillet steak,but as the years go by, you have to move on to the cheaper cuts,which is fine with me, because I like those.More flavorful, or so they say. Why are we stopping at a barley field?Well, hello there, chaps.Documents, please.With pleasure.It's not a very flattering portrait, I'm afraid.I was once considered a great beauty.What does the "F" stand for? Fritz? Franz?Franz.I knew it!He's making a funny face.That's a Migratory Visa with Stage Three Worker Status, Franz, darling.He's with me.Come outside, please.Now, wait a minute. Sit down, Zero. His papers are in order.I cross-referenced them myself withthe Bureau of Labor and Servitude.You can't arrest him simply because he's a bloody immigrant.He hasn't done anything wrong.Stop it, damn you!Never mind, Monsieur Gustave! Let them proceed!GUSTAVE H: Ow! That hurts!You filthy, goddamn, pock-marked, fascist assholes! Take your hands off my Lobby Boy!What's the problem?This is outrageous.The young man works for me at the Grand Budapest Hotel in Nebelsbad.Monsieur Gustave?My name is Henckels.I'm the son of Dr. and Mrs. Wolfgang Henckels-Bergersd?rfer.Do you remember me?I know exactly who you are. It's uncanny. You're little Albert.I'm terribly embarrassed. Release them.Release them.Hmm.Your colleague is stateless.He'll need to apply for a revised Special Transit Permit,which at this point may be very difficult to acquire. Take this.It's temporary but it's the best I can offer, I'm afraid.And how's your wonderful mother?She's very well, thank you. I adore her.Send my love. I will.Your companion was very kind to mewhen I was a lonely little boy.My men and I apologize for disturbing you.I beg your pardon, sir.You see? There are still faint glimmers of civilization left in this barbaric slaughterhousethat was once known as humanity.Indeed, that's what we providein our own modest, humble, insignificant...Oh, fuck it.Where is she, Clotilde? Take me to her.You're looking so well, darling. You really are.They've done a marvelous job.I don't know what sort of creamthey've put on you down at the morgue,but I want some.Honestly, you look better than you have in years. You look like you're alive.Oh, you changed it after all. It's perfect.Clotilde? Oui, Monsieur Gustave?A glass of chilled water with no ice, please.Yes. M. Gustave ---- and. also. M. Serge would like to speak with you privately in his office. please.Oh.All right, then.I shan't be long, darling.MR. MOUSTAFA: We were escorted through a green baize door,down a narrow service corridor and into the butler's pantry.A moment later, the kitchen passage swung openand a small servant dressed in white jolted into the room.I've never forgotten the look on that man's face. What the devil is going on?I, myself, had never set foot insidea house of this kind in my life.I understood very little about the events that were to follow.But, eventually, I came to recognize, when the destiny of a great fortune is at stake, men's greed spreads like a poison in the bloodstream.Uncles, nephews, cousins,in-laws of increasingly tenuous connection.The old woman's most distant relationshad come foraging out of the woodwork.At the head of this congregation,it was a disorienting coincidence,we discovered our own Deputy Kovacs,himself an important attorney, of course.He was the executor of the dead widow's estate.This is Madame D's last will and testament.It consists of a general tontinedrawn up before the event of her husband's death 46 years ago,in combination with 635 amendments,notations, corrections, and letters of wishes executed during the subsequent decades.The ultimate legality of this accumulationrequires further analysis,but in the opinion of this office, it was Madame D'sintentionthat control of the vast bulk of her estateshould be transferred, forthwith, to her son, Dmitri, with special allowances for his sisters,Marguerite, Laetizia, and Carolina,and minor gifts for various members of the extended familyas shown in the List of Recipients,which I will elucidate in due course.However.An additional codicil,delivered into my possession by post only this morning,and, by all indications, sent by Madame Dduring the last hours of her life,contains an amendment to the original certificate, which, as prescribed by law, I will read to you now. The authenticity of this documenthas not yet been confirmed by the presiding magistrate,so I ask that all parties be patient and refrain from commentuntil such time as our investigations can be completed."To my esteemed friend who comforted me in my later years"and brought sunshine into the life of an old woman "who thought that she would never be happy again. "Monsieur Gustave H,"I bequeath, bestow and devise, free of all taxation "and with full and absolute fiduciary entitlement,"the painting known as 'Boy with Apple...Wow! "...by Johannes van Hoytl..."I can't believe it. "...the younger..."What?"...which gave us both so much pleasure."The van Hoytl?Tax-free? Can she do that?Who's Gustave H?I'm afraid that's me, darling.That fucking faggot!He's a concierge. What are you doing here?I've come to pay my respects to a great woman whom I loved.This man is an intruder in my home!It's not yours yet, Dmitri.Only when probate is granted, and the Deed of Entitlement...You're not getting Boy with Apple, you goddamn little fruit!How's that supposed to make me feel?Call the police. We're pressing charges.This criminal has plagued my family for nearly 20 years.He's a ruthless adventurer and a con-artistwho preys on mentally feeble, sick old ladies,and he probably fucks them, too!I go to bed with all my friends.Where's Céline?What?She's dead. We're reading her will.Oh, yes, yes, of course.If I learn you ever once laid a finger on my mother's body,living or dead, I swear to God,I'll out your throat! You hear me?I thought I was supposed to be a fucking faggot.You are, but you're bisexual.Let's change the subject. I'm leaving.Wait here quietly. please.That picture, Boy with Apple, is priceless. Understand?Congratulations, Monsieur Gustave!They're going to fight me for the son of a bitch.Is it very beautiful?Beyond description."E'en the most gifted bard's rhyme can only sing "but to the lack of her and all she isn't!"His tongue doth..." Can I see it?I don't see why not.This is van Hoytl's exquisite portrayalof a beautiful boy on the cusp of manhood.Blond, smooth. Skin as white as that milk.Of impeccable provenance.One of the last in private hands, and unquestionably, the best.It's a masterpiece.The rest of this shit is worthless junk.M. Gustave ?Can I help you?Yes. Serge.You can wrap this up. please.Wrap up --Wrap up -- "Boy With Apple"?What did you want to tell me, before?I think I cannot say right now.Write me tomorrow. Lutzbahn Station!I'll never part with it.It reminded her of me. It will remind me of her. Always. I'll die with this picture above my bed.See the resemblance?Oh, yes.Actually, we should sell it.Sooner rather than later, in case they try to steal it back.Plus, something about those lunaticfoot-soldiers on the express...This could be a tricky war and a long dry spell in the hotel trade.For all we know, they could board us up tomorrow. Let's make a solemn blood-pact.We'll contact the black market and liquidate Boy with Appleby the end of the week, then leave the country and lay lowsomewhere along the Maltese Rivierauntil the troubles blow over and we resume our posts. In exchange for your help, your loyaltyand your services as my personal valet,I pledge to you 1.5% of the net sale price.1.5? Plus room and board.Could we make it 10? 10? Are you joking?That's more than I'd pay an actual dealer,and you wouldn't know Chiaroscuro from chicken giblets.No, 1.5 is correct. But I'll tell you what,if I die first, and I most certainly will, you will be my sole heir.There's not much in the kitty excepta set of ivory-backed hairbrushesand my library of romantic poetry,but when the time comes, these will be yours,along with whatever we haven't already spent on whores and whiskey.This is our sacred bond.I'll draw it up right now.I, Monsieur Gustave H, being of relatively sound mindand body,on this day, the 19th of October,in the year of our Lord 1932...MR. MOUSTAFA: He never told me where he came from.I never asked who his family had been. Excuse me.Uh-huh?The police are here. They asked for you.Tell them I'll be right down.Okay.Have you ever been questioned by the authorities? Yes, on one occasion I was arrestedand tortured by the rebel militiaafter the Desert Uprising.You know the drill, then. Zip it. Of course.You've never heard the word "van Hoytl" in your life. Okay, let's go.How may we serve you, gentlemen?Ah, Inspector Henckels."By order of the Commissioner of Police, Zubrowka Province,"I hereby place you under arrest for the murder "of Madame Céline Villeneuve Desgoffe und Taxis."I knew there was something fishy.We never got the cause of death.She's been murdered and you think I did it. HENCKELS: Hey!Stop!What happened?What happened, my dear Zero, is I beat the living shit out of a sniveling little runt called Pinky Bandinski who had the gall to question my virility,because if there's one thing we've learned from penny dreadfuls,it's that, when you find yourself in a place like this, you must never be a candy-ass.You've got to prove yourself from Day One.You've got to win their respect.You should take a long look at his ugly mug this morning.He's, actually, become a dear friend.You'll meet him, I hope.So. You've talked to Kovacs?I saw him last night in secret.He made me take an oath on a Bible I wouldn't tell asoul.You're supposed to also.I'll do that later.He suspects you're innocent.Of course he does.What's the charge?In the small hours of the evening of 19 October,an individual well-known to the house and staff, a Monsieur Gustave H,did arrive at the Desgoffe und Taxis residence in Lutz and entered by the rear service alley,alerting no one to his presence,and did then proceed by way of back stairs and servants' passage,to deliver himself into the private chambers of Madame D.There is no evidence to indicate whether this visit had been pre-arranged with her or not.The next morning Madame D was found dead by strychnine poisoning.Monsieur Gustave was not observed on the premises againuntil, of course, 24 hours later. The identity of his accusers is madeclear in this notarized deposition.They include, essentially, all members of the extended family,but the key witness who actually ostensibly saw the alleged eventsappears to have fled the jurisdiction.His whereabouts are currently unknown,but he's being sought and pursued by the relevant authorities.Who is he?Serge?I'm afraid so.That little prick.No, I don't believe it. They put him up to it.I've been dropped into a nest of vipers.You have an alibi?Of course, but she's married to the Duke of Westphalia.I can't allow her name to get mixed-up in all this monkey business.Your life may be at stake.I know, but the bitch legged it.。