Smile Every Minutes Quotes

Did we have sex?" he asked directly.
For about two minutes, this might actually be fun. "Eric," I said, "we had sex in every position I could imagine, and some I couldn't. We had sex in every room in my house, and we had sex outdoors. You told me it was the best you'd ever had." (At the time he couldn't recall all the sex he'd ever had. But he'd paid me a compliment.) "Too bad you can't remember it," I concluded with a modest smile.
Eric looked like I'd hit him in the forehead with a mallet. For all of thirty seconds his reaction was completely gratifying. ~ Charlaine Harris

Colored like a sunset tide is a gaze sharply slicing through the reflective glass. A furrowed brow is set much too seriously, as if trying to unfold the pieces of the face that stared back at it. One eyebrow is raised skeptically, always calculating and analyzing its surroundings. I tilt my head trying to see the deeper meaning in my features, trying to imagine the connection between my looks and my character as I stare in the mirror for the required five minutes.

From the dark brown hair fastened tightly in a bun, a curl as bright as woven gold comes loose. A flash of unruly hair prominent through the typical browns is like my temper; always there, but not always visible. I begin to grow frustrated with the girl in the mirror, and she cocks her hip as if mocking me. In a moment, her lips curve in a half smile, not quite detectable in sight but rather in feeling, like the sensation of something good just around the corner. A chin was set high in a stubborn fashion, symbolizing either persistence or complete adamancy. Shoulders are held stiff like ancient mountains, proud but slightly arrogant.

The image watches with the misty eyes of a daydreamer, glazed over with a sort of trance as if in the middle of a reverie, or a vision. Every once and a while, her true fears surface in those eyes, terror that her life would amount to nothing, that her work would have no impact. Words written are meant to be read, and sometimes I worry that my thoughts and ideas wi ~ K.D. Enos

One million fifty-one thousand and
two hundred minutes
That's approximatley how many minutes
I've loved you
It's how many times i've thought about you
How many minutes i've worried about you
How many minutes i've thanked God for you
How many minutes i've thanked every deity in the universe for you.
One million
Fifty-one Thousand
And
Two
Hundred
Minutes
One million fifty-one thousand amd two hundred times.
It's how many times you've made me smile.
How many times you've made me dream,
How many times you've made me believe,
How many times you've made me discover,
How many times you've made me adore,
How many times you've made me cheris,
My life.
....
And exactlly one million fifty-one thousand and two hundred minutes from now, i am going to propose to you, and ask that you share all the rest of the minutes
Of your life, with me. ~ Colleen Hoover

Plus the fact that the window I was now facing opened up to the part of the lot where people picked up their brand-new cars. Every few minutes, one of the salesmen would walk someone right to the center of the window, hand them their shiny new keys, and then smile benevolently as they drove off into the sunset, just like in the commercials. What a bunch of shit. ~ Sarah Dessen

She felt as if she had been crying without end for minutes now.
Yet this parting, this final farewell ...
Aelin looked at Chaol and Dorian and sobbed. Opened her arms to them, and wept as they held each other.
"I love you both," she whispered. "And no matter what may happen, no matter how far we may be, that will never change."
"We will see you again," Chaol said, but even his voice was thick with tears.
"Together," Dorian breathed, shaking. "We'll rebuild this world together."
She couldn't stand it, this ache in her chest. But she made herself pull away and smile at their tear-streaked faces, a hand on her heart. "Thank you for all you
have done for me."
Dorian bowed his head. "Those are words I'd never thought I'd hear from you."
She barked a rasping laugh, and gave him a shove. "You're a king now. Such
insults are beneath you."
He grinned, wiping at his face.
Aelin smiled at Chaol, at his wife waiting beyond him. "I wish you every happiness," she said to him. To them both.
Such light shone in Chaol's bronze eyes - that she had never seen before.
"We will see each other again," he repeated.
Then he and Dorian turned toward their horses, toward the bright day beyond the castle gates. Toward their kingdom to the south. Shattered now, but not forever.
Not forever. ~ Sarah J. Maas

There is a theory that when a planet, like our earth for example, has manifested every form of life, when it has fulfilled itself to the point of exhaustion, it crumbles to bits and is dispersed like star dust throughout the universe. It does not roll on like a dead moon, but explodes, and in the space of a few minutes, there is not a trace of it visible in the heavens. In marine life we have a similar effect. it is called implosion. When an amphibian accustomed to the black depths rises above a certain level, when the pressure to which it adapts itself is lifted, the body bursts inwardly. Are we not familiar with this spectacle in the human being also? The norsemen who went berserk, the malay who runs amuck - are these not examples of implosion and explosion? When the cup is full it runs over. but when the cup and that which it contains are one substance, what then? There are moments when the elixir of life rises to such overbrimming splendor that the soul spills over. In the seraphic smile of the madonnas the soul is seen to flood the psyche. The moon of the face becomes full; the equation is perfect. A minute, a half minute, a second later, the miracle has passed. something intangible, something inexplicable, was given out - and received. In the life of a human being it may happen that the moon never comes to the full. In the life of some human beings it would seem, indeed, that the only mysterious phenomenon observable is that of perpetual eclipse. In the case of those af ~ Henry Miller

You have to stand every day three or four hours of visitors. Nine-tenths of them want something they ought not to have. If you keep dead-still they will run down in three or four minutes. If you even cough or smile they will start up all over again. ~ Calvin Coolidge

When you see someone every day for a while, you settle into a rhythm and you come to count on them even if for nothing more than the fifteen minutes each morning they spend sitting at your counter, on one of your stools, talking about the weather and giving you a big smile and thumbs-up when they sink their teeth into a poppy-seed muffin. ~ Bill Clegg

Love is funny thing. I don´t know if you can call it a "thing" precisely. It´s a force. An energy. A feeling. A moment. A look, a kiss, a smile. All those things in one. It sneaks up on you; you never see it coming. And when it does finally hit you, It isn´t a small little poke. It´s like a rhinoceros rammed itself against your chest. Or you just got run over by a car. It knocks the wind out of you. Slams you against wall. Kick-starts yout heart. You lose your apetite. You can´t sleep. Some can call love a sickness. Seriously, you´re sick over another human being. You belong to them. They control your feelings with the look in their eye. They change the way you see yourself, feel about yourself. You feel like your world shifted, and everything´s the same, but you aren´t. I say it´s funny because it seems to bend and twist every concept of reality you have. You can survive off nothing. The only thing sustaining you is the feeling, energy, force. You can go days without decent sleep. You´re not hungry for anything exept that one person who seems to occupy your every thought. Time slows down when you´re without them. Seconds feel like hours, minutes like days, And whenn you´re together, time moves at the spped of light. It´s alla blur, and when it´s over, you don´t remember half the things you were doing but you just remember this feeling. This bliss. And it is all over in a flash. And you´re back to counting the long, eternal minutes until you see him again. ~ Katy Evans

I think people expect too much from marriage today,' he said. 'They expect perfection. Every moment should be bliss. That's TV or movies. But that is not the human experience.
... twenty good minutes here, forty good minutes there, it adds up to something beautiful. The trick is when things aren't so great, you don't junk the whole thing. It's okay to have an argument. It's okay that the other one nudges you a little, bothers you a little. It's part of being close to someone.
But the joy you get from that same closeness
when you watch your children, when you wake up and smile at each other
that ... is a blessing. People forget that. ~ Mitch Albom

Because now mental health disorders have gone "mainstream". And for all the good it's brought people like me who have been given therapy and stuff, there's a lot of bad it's brought too.
Because now people use the phrase OCD to describe minor personality quirks. "Oooh, I like my pens in a line, I'm so OCD."
NO YOU'RE FUCKING NOT.
"Oh my God, I was so nervous about that presentation, I literally had a panic attack."
NO YOU FUCKING DIDN'T.
"I'm so hormonal today. I just feel totally bipolar."
SHUT UP, YOU IGNORANT BUMFACE.
Told you I got angry.
These words – words like OCD and bipolar – are not words to use lightly. And yet now they're everywhere. There are TV programmes that actually pun on them. People smile and use them, proud of themselves for learning them, like they should get a sticker or something. Not realizing that if those words are said to you by a medical health professional, as a diagnosis of something you'll probably have for ever, they're words you don't appreciate being misused every single day by someone who likes to keep their house quite clean.
People actually die of bipolar, you know? They jump in front of trains and tip down bottles of paracetamol and leave letters behind to their devastated families because their bullying brains just won't let them be for five minutes and they can't bear to live with that any more.
People also die of cancer.
You don't hear people going around saying: "Oh my God, my he ~ Holly Bourne

Before I could respond, he snapped his fingers, and I was suddenly standing outside the mansion, my booted feet in the sand, the smell of salt overwhelming my senses, and the rolling ocean at my back.

A growl of anger rose in my throat. "I hate it when you do that."

The smile on his face increased. "I know."

I absolutely loathed it, and the bastard did it every chance he got - usually about every five minutes whenever I was in his presence and mostly without any purpose. Sometimes he would just pop me from room to room for the hell of it. The last year or so of my life had been a real test of my short patience. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

When I swung open the door, there he was: Marlboro Man, wearing Wranglers and a crisp white shirt and boots. And a sweet, heart-melting smile.
What are you doing here? I thought. You're supposed to be in the shower. You're supposed to be with the sex kitten.
"Hey," he said, wasting no time in stepping through the door and winding his arms around my waist. My arms couldn't help but drape over his strong shoulders; my lips couldn't help but find his. He felt soft, warm, safe…and our first kiss turned into a third, and a sixth, and a seventh. It was the same kiss as the night before, when the phone call alerting him to the fire had come. My eyes remained tightly closed as I savored every second, trying to reconcile the present with the horror movie I'd imagined just moments earlier. I had no idea what was going on. At that point, I didn't even care.
"Ummmmm!!! I'm t-t-t-ttellin'!" Mike teased from the top of the stairs, just before running down and embracing Marlboro Man in a bear hug.
"Hi, Mike," Marlboro Man said, politely patting him on the back.
"Mike?" I said, smiling and blinking my eyes. "Will you excuse us for a couple of minutes?"
Mike obliged, giggling and oooo-ing as he walked toward the kitchen.
Marlboro Man picked me up and brought my eyes to the level of his. Smiling, he said, "I've been trying to call you this afternoon."
"You have?" I said. I hadn't even heard the phone ring. "I, um…I sort of took a nine-hour nap."
Ma ~ Ree Drummond

The week passed by swiftly, like a dream ... a dream where minutes flew as rapidly as heartbeats. Such a breathless week when something within her drove Scarlett with mingled pain and pleasure to pack and cram every minute with incidents to remember after he was gone, happenings which she could examine at leisure in the long months ahead, extracting every morsel of comfort from them - dance, sing, laugh, fetch and carry for Ashley, anticipate his wants, smile when he smiles, be silent when he talks, follow him with your eyes so that each line of his erect body, each lift of his eyebrows, each quirk of his mouth, will be indelibly printed on your mind - for a week goes by so fast and the war goes on forever. ~ Margaret Mitchell