Sweet Smile Quotes

He paused, giving her a sweet smile of understanding. "You don't have to start with the crown jewels, you know. You could start with my lips then work your way down. ~ Sara Daniel

The hell of it is that my son, my only child, has to turn out to be," he added with a return of his old spirit, black eyes flashing, "the one man in Washington, D.C. who hates my guts!"
"You weren't too fond of him, either, if you recall," she pointed out.
He glared at her. "He's hot-tempered and arrogant and stubborn!"
"Look who he gets it from," she said with a grin.
He unlinked his hands as he considered that. "Those can be desirable traits," he agreed with a faint smile. "Anyway, it's nice to know I won't die childless," he said after a minute. He lifted his eyes to her face. "Leta can't know any of this. When and if the time comes, I'll tell her."
"Who's going to tell him?" she ventured.
"You?" he suggested.
"In your dreams," she said with a sweet smile.
He stuffed his hands back into his pockets. "We'll cross that bridge when the river comes over it. You'll be careful, do you hear me? I've invested a lot of time and energy into hijacking you for my museum. Don't take the slightest risk. If you think you've been discovered, get out and take Leta with you."
"She's afraid to fly," she pointed out. "She won't get in an airplane unless it's an emergency."
"Then I'll come out and stuff her into a car and drive her to the airport and put her on a plane," he said firmly.
She pursed her lips. He was very like Tate. "I guess you would, at that. ~ Diana Palmer

My mama always said piecing quilts is like making friends.' She kept her eyes on the scissors as she cut up a piece of blue ticking. 'Sometimes the more different fabrics - and people - are,' she said, 'the stronger the pattern.'
I looked up at her. She smiled a sad, sweet smile at me. I felt as if she'd looked right into my heart and seen all my warts and flaws, and held her own heart out to me anyway. ~ Kirby Larson

You start on Monday with the idea implanted in your bosom that you are going to enjoy yourself. You wave an airy adieu to the boys on shore, light your biggest pipe, and swagger about the deck as if you were Captain Cook, Sir Francis Drake, and Christopher Columbus all rolled into one. On Tuesday, you wish you hadn't come. On Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, you wish you were dead. On Saturday, you are able to swallow a little beef tea, and to sit up on deck, and answer with a wan, sweet smile when kind-hearted people ask you how you feel now. On Sunday, you begin to walk about again, and take solid food. And on Monday morning, as, with your bag and umbrella in your hand, you stand by the gunwale, waiting to step ashore, you begin to thoroughly like it. ~ Jerome K. Jerome

The sweet smile of a young woman. There is nothing better in the world. It is worth more than salt. Something in us sickens and dies without it. I am sure of this. Such a simple thing. How strange. How wonderful and strange. ~ Patrick Rothfuss

Don't you feel how connected we are?" I ask. "If I break your heart, I break mine." A sweet smile spreads over her lips and she nods. ~ Kennedy Ryan

I'll take another stab at talking to her."
"If you can't find a way, get Cooper to do it. You know how he loves controlling things. I'm sure he'll want to help."
"True, but once he starts meddling, he won't stop. I don't need him giving me pointers for the rest of my relationship with Lark."
"Lark," my mother said, testing out the name. "She had such a sweet smile. I could look at that smile for the rest of my life. Yes, go kick fate in the balls and get me a daughter."
"You have a daughter."
"A new one, I meant. Preferably one who likes to visit more than Anna."
Grinning at the thought of my alpha chick sister, I finished my juice and stood up. "I'll focus on a first date then worry about getting you a more compliant daughter. ~ Bijou Hunter

Mr. Grayson was just…explaining the workings of the ship." She attempted to tug her hand from Gray's grasp, shooting him a pained look when he refused to relinquish his prize.
Gray said smoothly, "Actually, we were discussing debts. Miss Turner still owes me her fare, and I-"
"And I told you, you'll have it today." Beneath that abomination of a skirt wrapped about his leg, she planted her heel atop his booted toe and transferred all her weight onto it. Firmly. Once again, Gray regretted trading his old, sturdy boots for these foppish monstrosities. Her little pointed heel bit straight through the thin leather.
With a tight grimace, Gray released her hand. He'd been about to say, and I have her handkerchief to return. But just for that, he wouldn't.
"Good afternoon, then." A sweet smile graced her face as she stomped down on his foot again, harder. Then she turned and flounced away.
He made an amused face at Jonas. "I think she likes me."
"In my cabin, Gray."
Gray gritted his teeth and followed Joss down the hatch. Whether he liked being Gray's half brother or not, Joss was damn lucky right now that he was. Gray wouldn't have suffered that supercilious command for any bond weaker than blood.
"You gave me your word, Gray."
"Did I? And what word was that?"
Joss tossed his hat on the wood-framed bed and stripped off his greatcoat with agitated movements. "You know damn well what I mean. You said you wouldn't pursue Miss Turner. No ~ Tessa Dare

I didn't want to answer any weird questions about Ren. I knew he'd probably tell his side of the story when he became a man again, but I didn't care. I kept my version of the trip factual, unemotional, and, more importantly, Renless.
Mr. Kadam said we'd be stopping at a hotel soon, but he wanted to find a good place to leave Ren first. I demurred, "Of course," and smiled a sickly sweet smile back at the attentive tiger.
Mr. Kadam worried, "I hope our hotel won't be too far away for him."
I patted Mr. Kadam's arm and reassured him, "Oh, don't worry about him. He's very good at getting what he wants. I mean…taking care of his needs. I'm sure he'll find his long night alone in the jungle extremely enlightening." Mr. Kadam shot me a puzzled glance, but he eventually nodded and pulled over near a forested area.
Ren got out of the Jeep, came around to my side of the car, and stared at me with icy blue eyes. I just turned my body away so I wouldn't have to look at him. When Mr. Kadam got back in the Jeep, I peeked out my window again, but Ren was gone. I reminded myself that he deserved it an sat back against the seat with my arms folded over my chest and an intense expression on my face.
Mr. Kadam spoke softly, "Kelsey, are you alright? You seem very…tense, since I last saw you."
I muttered under my breath, "You have no idea. ~ Colleen Houck

Want to hear something cool?' He took the rubber earpieces from his ears and eased them into Jamie's, then replaced the stethoscope over the child's heart. 'Do you hear that? That soft thumping inside there?'
Jamie's eyes widened and a sweet smile lit his face.
'You know what that is?' Logan asked.
'Uh-huh.' Jamie beamed with confidence. 'It's Jesus. ~ Candace Calvert

George gives me a smile, the same dazzling sweet smile as his big brother, although, at this point, with green teeth. "I might marry you," he allows. "Do you want a big family?"
I start to cough and feel a hand pat my back.
"George, it's usually better to discuss this kind of thing with your pants on." Jase drops boxer shorts at George's feet, then sets Patsy on the ground next to him.
She's wearing a pink sunsuit and has one of those little ponytails that make one sprout of hair stick straight up on top all chubby arms and bowed legs. She's, what, one now?
"Dat?" she demands, pointing to me a bit belligerently.
"Dat is Samantha," Jase says. "Apparently soon to be your sister-in-law." He cocks an eyebrow. "You and George move fast."
"We talked astronauts," I explain ... ~ Huntley Fitzpatrick

He realized that the woman at his side - the one with the sweaty red face and the sweet smile - had pried open his heart, one day at a time. ~ Susan Donovan

I miss the innocence of your childish sweet smile
and your gentle, knowing touch.

I remember bright and shining, curious eyes
and the happy smiles so much.

I sometimes think of the noise you made as you playfully chased through the house those days.

I miss the things I miss when nothing else moves the pain.

I wish I did not miss you so much. I wish…the things I wish...could all be wished away. ~ Ursula Denise Walker

She smiled then, an adorable, sweet smile that took his breath away. He forgot all about trying to maintain an air of civility. His inner caveman came barreling out, grunting and pounding his chest and muttering unintelligible words. ~ Maya Banks

It was the same smile he used in bed with Crick
the gentle, sweet smile that made him look young and a little vulnerable. Crick turned the picture around, and Benny had written, I asked him to think of you. ~ Amy Lane

Don't you want to kiss me?' she asks.
She smiles just a little, a hopeful, sweet smile, but buried in it is that confidence that slays me. ~ Nina LaCour

Like a father with his daughter, the writist plays peek-a-boo with the world. His aim is to evoke that sweet smile, the one that says "i remember you. I am glad you are here again". ~ D.A. Botta

That will solve nothing, my lord." His wife strode into the kitchen, stiff pride shining in her eyes. "I told you to keep her in hand." Brodick glared at his cousin, wondering just when his life had turned inside out. Druce scowled at the sweet smile Brodrick's wife cast toward him. He lifted his finger and pointed at her. "She bit me. ~ Mary Wine

Read," I order.

"Out loud?"

"Yep. And once you're done, I want you to summarize what you just read. Think you can handle that?"

There's a beat, and then his bottom lip quivers. "This might be the wrong time to tell you, but…I can't read."

My jaw falls open. Holy shit. He can't be seri -

Garrett barks out a laugh. "Relax, I'm fucking around with you." Then he scowls at me. "You actually thought I couldn't read? Jesus Christ, Wellsy."

I offer a sweet smile. "Wouldn't have surprised me in the slightest. ~ Elle Kennedy

His hair was shorter than I remembered, tawny in this half-light, the tousled edges casually framing the clean, commanding lines of his face. His mouth, normally so stern was relaxed now and as I stared a slight sweet smile touched his lips, its curve softening the straight strong lines of his nose and brow. Finally, inevitably, I met his eyes and felt a connection that seared straight through me, down through my soles and away. Those eyes, darker than mine, the darkest blue, dark and as impenetrable as glaciers. Tonight he was real, so very real that my heart thumped, my blood sang, my legs shook. ~ Hannah Blatchford

Then Siddhartha had spent the night at his house with dancers and wine, had pretended to be superior to his companions, which he no longer was. He had drunk much wine and later after midnight he went to bed, tired and yet agitated, nearly in tears and in despair. In vain did he try to sleep. His heart was so full of misery, he felt he could no longer endure it. He was full of nausea which overpowered him like a distasteful wine, or music that was too sweet and superficial, or like the too sweet smile of the dancers or the too sweet perfume of their hair and breasts. But above all he was nauseated with himself, with his perfumed hair, with the smell of the wine from his mouth, with the soft, flabby appearance of his skin. ~ Hermann Hesse

Let's hold hands and brave this beautiful, crazy life together with a sweet smile and a calm breath. ~ Colleen Saidman

You have to judge things by the result," Shirley continued. "And the result in which you can exult is that the very best was combined in you: grace, brains, creativity, beauty. Whatever alien, mechanical, outside element was in the story - it was a story of success. You have such a rich endowment. You have been so recompensed. You carry the heightened sensitivity, to be sure. You carry the pain and you also carry the reward."

Her voice - hoarse from speaking for hours - was a part of me. Her strong hands, her expressive forehead, her sweet smile - all a part of me, because she had always been a part of me. I had been so afraid that blood would be all that mattered. ~ Dani Shapiro

Did you know that in space it's very, very cold? And there's no oxygen? And if an astronaut fell out of a shuttle without his suit he'd die right away?"
I'm a fast learner. "But that would never happen. Because astronauts are really, really careful."
George gives me a smile, the same dazzling sweet smile as his big brother, although at this point, with green teeth. "I might marry you," he allows. "Do you want a big family? ~ Huntley Fitzpatrick

She was a hunchback with a sweet smile. She smiled sweetly at anything; she couldn't help it; the trees, me, the grass, anything. The basket pulled her down, dragging her toward the ground. She was such a tiny woman, with a hurt face, as if slapped forever. She wore a funny old hat, an absurd hat, a maddening hat, a hat to make me cry, a hat with faded red berries on the brim. And there she was, smiling at everything, struggling across the carpet with a heavy basket containing Lord knew what, wearing a plumed hat with red berries.

I got up. It was so mysterious. There I was, like magic, standing up, my two feet on the ground, my eyes drenched.

I said, "Let me help."

She smiled again and gave me the basket. We began to walk. She led the way. Beyond the trees it was stifling. And she smiled. It was so sweet it nearly tore my head off. She talked, she told me things I never remembered. It didn't matter. In a« dream she held me, in a dream I followed under the blinding sun. For blocks we went forward. I hoped it would never end. Always she talked in a low voice made of human music. What words! What she said! I remembered nothing. I was only happy. But in my heart I was dying. It should have been so. We stepped from so many curbs, I wondered why she did not sit upon one and hold my head while I drifted away. It was the chance that never came again.

That old woman with the bent back! Old woman, I feel so joyfully your pain. Ask me a favor ~ John Fante

Then why was his tongue in your mouth? Was he conducting a clinical test of your gag reflex?" He smiled, but not nicely. "How is your gag reflex, Ms. Lane? Are you a hair trigger?"
Barrons likes to use sexual innuendo to try to shut me up. I think he expects the well-raised southern belle in me will think eew and back off. Sometimes, I do think eew, but I don't back off. "I'm a spitter, if that's what you're asking." I flashed him a too-sweet smile.
"Didn't look that way to me. I think you're a swallower. His tongue was halfway to China and you were still taking it."
"Jealous? ~ Karen Marie Moning

sometimes the greatest of problems can be solved by a sweet smile ~ Ridhima Shrma

Reason To Smile -

How can one smile such sweet smiles,
When one is so saddened by sorrows for miles,
How can I smile the same smiles,
When life brings me nothing but tears,

I wondered for so long,
What reason you had to smile that long,
To keep smiling though troubles come,
And still remain sweet and silently overcome,

It's such a mystery to me,
Your smiles from heaven with glee,
I adore and yet envy thee,
But I'd rather you smile those at me,

I feel happy when I see you smile,
Even if I'm sad and lonely,
Your smiles bring me somewhere,
I don't even know where,

But it was you,
You gave me the reason to smile,
To smile with no reason,
To smile for a smile,

I guess life is just like that,
We need not a reason to smile,
For a smile is the reason itself,
To rejoice and open-heartedly give thanks,

I learned to smile because of you,
Because your smiles bring me joy when blue,
It proves how well and powerful,
A simple sweet smile can become so beautiful,

Smile for the sake of a smile,
Smile for the sake of happiness,
Smile for the sake of life,
Smile because of hope left in life,

Smile my friends,
Smile for me my Love,
Smile those same sweet smiles,
Smile so the world can be a peaceful dove... ~ Lendl Ian Servillon

He was smiling - a kind of honest, humbled, sweet smile. "Maybe I'm getting better at this?" he asked. "Better at wooing you in the manner in which you should be wooed? ~ Chloe Neill

Sweet smile is half again as sinister as her sister's razor. Beside her is an Olympic Knight, the Storm Knight ~ Pierce Brown

You know, I've never asked why it doesn't offend your feminist principles for me to carry this beast for you."
I look at it as exploiting the oppressor," she said, with a sweet smile. ~ Justin Gustainis

I was even starting to relax - a little - until he took me to his parents' house for dinner. I've never met two people more in need of a divorce. They bickered and fought all evening. Royce said that's how they express their love. I don't believe him. I mean, please. You tell me if you feel the love from this conversation (written word for word as I remember it):
Linda: Elliot, be a dear and get me another drink.
Elliot: Get it yourself.
Linda: Get up and fix me a drink, you lazy man.
Elliot: Woman, don't push me on this. I've finally gotten comfortable.
Linda: (sugary sweet smile) I'll push you only when you're standing on a bridge.
Elliot: If I were standing on a bridge and saw you coming, you wouldn't have to push me. I'd
jump.
See? Does that sound "loving" to you? ~ Gena Showalter

I think my moment of revelation came when I saw this young man come on court in the most flamboyant clothes. He had a sweet smile and questionably blonde hair and a generally chirpy glamour that in fact concealed huge skill. When he was interviewed he confessed to hating to get angry and it was also said that he slithered out of winning when it came to the big matches. And I thought, My God! This Andre Agassi is the image of Howl in my book HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE! ~ Diana Wynne Jones

Jamie," I said, "how, exactly, do you decide whether you're drunk?"
Aroused by my voice, he swayed alarmingly to one side, but caught himself on the edge of the mantelpiece. His eyes drifted around the room, then fixed on my face. For an instant, they blazed clear and pellucid with intelligence.
"och, easy, Sassenach, If ye can stand up, you're not drunk." He let go of the mantelpiece, took a step toward me, and crumpled slowly onto the hearth, eyes blank, and a wide, sweet smile on his dreaming face. ~ Diana Gabaldon

Oil rich boys ... had a nice, sweet smile but when you finished meeting with them your socks were missing and you hadn't even noticed they'd taken your boots. ~ Larry Hagman

Your ass is actually very nice. Well, at least what I can see of it. If your ass is that nice, no wonder they have an obsession with your - "

"Concentrate," I grumble, snapping my fingers in front of his face.

"I'm trying," he lies, still staring down at my ass. I start to turn to face him instead of sitting comfortably on the bed, just so my ass will be facing the wall, but the door flies open and slams into the wall.

Drake curses, then he grunts a, "Fuck me."

"The fuck is going on in here?" Drex growls, letting his eyes drop to my exposed back, and apparently my exposed ass. Not my fault this hospital keeps the ridiculous slit in the back of their gowns.

"We're having a conversation," I say with a sweet smile. "It's full of dirty innuendo and intriguing assumptions about my pussy."

"No the hell it isn't," Drake refutes, looking at me like I've lost my damn mind.

"But you were just saying that my - "

"Damn it, you crazy woman! Don't give him a reason to break my arms while I can't fight back!" Drake barks. ~ C.M. Owens

Be content with what thou seest; and wait until Time and Experience shall teach thee to find jealousy behind the sweet smile, and hatred under the honeyed word!' "This ~ O. Henry

You're just not the type that I go for after all. You're not graceful, you're violent, you don't know what sweet means... We'd probably be fighting non-stop, and I don't think it would work out. That's my straight answer. But! I don't hate you, by a long shot. ~ Naoshi Komi

Mac and cheese and pigs in a blanket with white fuckin' wine," he stated through his smile. "Is this duchess food? ~ Kristen Ashley

I summoned my most convincing smile, the one that seemed to work on Kristen, and I walked up to the counter.

The middle-aged nurse manning the station looked up, eyed my firefighter badge, and gave me a warm grin. "Well, hello. What can I do for you, young man?"

I was grateful for my profession at the moment. Nobody was ever unhappy to see a fireman. ~ Abby Jimenez

You can shed tears that she is gone,
or you can smile because she has lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back,
or you can open your eyes and see all she's left.
Your heart can be empty because you can't see her,
or you can be full of the love you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember her only that she is gone,
or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back.
Or you can do what she'd want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on. ~ David Harkins

I am not pretty.
I have never been pure or soft or sweet.
I am beautiful.
Dirt still on my shoulder as I rise from the ground. Scars forming and healing like galaxies over my skin.
I am beautiful in the way I fought back when I was buried.
I turned the dirt and mud into soil, and grew. ~ Caroline Kaufman

We began before words, and we will end beyond them.
It sometimes seems to me that our days are poisoned with too many words. Words said and not meant. Words said 'and' meant. Words divorced from feeling. Wounding words. Words that conceal. Words that reduce. Dead words.

If only words were a kind of fluid that collects in the ears, if only they turned into the visible chemical equivalent of their true value, an acid, or something curative – then we might be more careful. Words do collect in us anyway. They collect in the blood, in the soul, and either transform or poison people's lives. Bitter or thoughtless words poured into the ears of the young have blighted many lives in advance. We all know people whose unhappy lives twist on a set of words uttered to them on a certain unforgotten day at school, in childhood, or at university.

We seem to think that words aren't things. A bump on the head may pass away, but a cutting remark grows with the mind. But then it is possible that we know all too well the awesome power of words – which is why we use them with such deadly and accurate cruelty.

We are all wounded inside one way or other. We all carry unhappiness within us for some reason or other. Which is why we need a little gentleness and healing from one another. Healing in words, and healing beyond words. Like gestures. Warm gestures. Like friendship, which will always be a mystery. Like a smile, which someone described as the shortest dist ~ Ben Okri

We usually bring her helmet with us, but we left it back in the hotel room this time."
I gasp. I also try to decide what kind of flowers I'll bring to her funeral after I strangle the life from her body. I should have stayed in Jersey, like Mom said. Shouldn't have come here with Chloe and her parents. What business do I have in Florida? We live on the Jersey Shore. If you've seen one beach, you've seen them all, right?
But noooooooo. I had to come and spend the last of my summer with Chloe, because this would be our last summer together before college, blah-blah-blah. And now she's taking revenge on me for not letting her use my ID to get a tattoo last night. But what did she expect? I'm white and she's black. I'm not even tan-white. I'm Canadian-tourist white. If the guy could mistake her for me, then he shouldn't be giving anyone a tattoo, right? I was just protecting her. Only, she doesn't realize that. I can tell by that look in her eyes-the same look she wore when she replaced my hand sanitizer with personal lubricant-that she's about to take what's left of my pride and kick it like a donkey.
"Uh, we didn't get your name. Did you get his name, Emma?" she asks, as if on cue.
"I tried, Chloe. But he wouldn't tell me, so I tackled him," I say, rolling my eyes.
The guy smirks. This almost-smile hints at how breathtaking a real one would be. The tingling flares up again, and I rub my arms. ~ Anna Banks

God afternoon," I said cheerfully, with an especially saccharine smile for the High Lord. He blinked at me, and both of the faerie men murmured their greetings as I took a seat across from Lucien, not my usual place facing Tamlin.
I drank deeply from my goblet of water before piling food on my plate. I savored the tense silence as I consumed the meal before me.
"You look ... refreshed," Lucien observed with a glance at Tamlin. I shrugged. "Sleep well?"
"Like a babe." I smiled as him and took another bite of food, and felt Lucien's eyes travel inexorably to my neck.
"What is that bruise?" Lucien demanded.
I pointed my fork to Tamlin. "Ask him, he did it."
Lucien looked from Tamlin to me and then back again. "Why does Feyre have a bruise on her neck from you?" he asked with no small amount of amusement.
"I bit her," Tamlin said, not pausing as he cut his steak. "We ran into each other in the hall after the Rite. ~ Sarah J. Maas

Gulab jamun, am I right?" Puffy Fay asked with his mouth full. "The inspiration for this cupcake?"
Vik nodded. "A friend once told me she loved to take her favorite desserts and make them into something else." He glanced at me briefly.
Gulab jamun. I'd had it plenty of times in India. Creamy fried dumplings soaked in a sugar syrup, flavored with cardamom and-
"Rosewater," said Puffy Fay, "can be a tricky ingredient. But-" he smacked his lips- "you've done an excellent job. And you somehow managed to mimic the flavor of that very sweet dessert without making your cupcake too sweet. Fascinating."
"I coated rose petals in sugar and salt," said Vik. "Sugar for laughter, and salt for tears. ~ Rajani LaRocca

One certainly does work badly in spring: and why? Because one's feelings are being stimulated. And only amateurs think that a creative artist can afford to have feelings. It's a naïve amateur illusion; any genuine honest artist will smile at it. Sadly, perhaps, but he will smile. Because, of course, what one says must never be one's main concern. It must merely be the raw material, quite indifferent in itself, out of which the work of art is made; and the act of making must be a game, aloof and detached, performed in tranquillity. If you attach too much importance to what you have to say, if it means too much to you emotionally, then you may be certain that your work will be a complete fiasco. You will become solemn, you will become sentimental, you will produce something clumsy, ponderous, pompous, ungainly, unironical, insipid, dreary and commonplace; it will be of no interest to anyone, and you yourself will end up disillusioned and miserable… For that is how it is, Lisaveta: emotion, warm, heartfelt emotion, is invariably commonplace and unserviceable - only the stimulation of our corrupted nervous system, its cold ecstasies and acrobatics, can bring forth art. One simply has to be something inhuman, something standing outside humanity, strangely remote and detached from its concerns, if one is to have the ability or indeed even the desire to play this game with it, to play with men's lives, to portray them effectively and tastefully. Our stylistic and formal talent, our ~ Thomas Mann

Julie Seagle: I would never in a million years go skydiving.
Finn is God: What if I took you? ~ Jessica Park

He's tried to explain this a couple of times to a few of his buddies after about five beers. Like listen, listen. Imagine you live in this country, right? And there's a brutal war, and you witness and maybe participate in a horrific amount of violence, and you lose absolutely everyone you care about. Then you end up in this other country, where the culture and ways of doing things are completely foreign to you, and random assholes make fun of you for how you dress and act and talk while you're still coming to grips with the fact that everyone you love is gone and you can never go home again. Meanwhile, everyone around you is like "smile, motherfucker, you're in the Land of Plenty now, where there's a Starbucks on every corner and 500 channels on TV. You should be grateful! Why aren't you acting more grateful?" So you have to pretend to be grateful while you're dying inside. Sound like an traumatized, orphaned refugee? Also sounds like Steve fucking Rogers, Captain Goddamn America. Except that most refugees were part of a community of other people who were going through the same thing. Steve is all alone, the last damn unicorn, if the last unicorn had horrible screaming nightmares about the time when it helped to liberate Buchenwald. ~ Spitandvinegar

Pure joy," she told me on a smile. "Wake up to it, go to bed with it and it comes from Adam. How lucky can I get? ~ Kristen Ashley

Yes, I'm the one who washes the plates and glasses
They call me an easy woman
When they give me a penny
I still have to say thank you
Here I am, in ragged clothes
At the bottom of this shabby hotel
Today, you don't know who I am
Today, you don't know who I am

But one evening, one beautiful evening
A big commotion
People running along the shore
Saying: "Look who's coming!"
And me, I'll smile for the first time
They'll say: "You, you're smiling now?"

A big ship
A hundred cannons at the portholes
Will enter the harbour!

I'll always be washing
The glasses and plates
I'll always be an "easy woman"
When they give me a penny
I'll always say thank you
I'll keep my ragged clothes
At the bottom of this shabby hotel
And tomorrow, tomorrow like today
You'll never know who I am!

But one evening, that beautiful evening for which I live
Look how the cannons
Wake up and turn
For the first time, I'll burst out laughing
"What, brat, you have the heart to laugh?"

That big ship
A hundred cannons at the portholes
Will bombard the harbour!

Then the sailors will come to shore
More than a hundred, they'll mark with a cross of blood
Every house, every door
And it's before me that will be brought
Enchained, imploring, mutilated and bloodied
Your kind, all your kind, fi ~ Bertolt Brecht

Like I said, Kenzie. Everything ends. I'm not afraid to die," you say with a wan smile. "I just hope I'm smart enough to stay dead. ~ Victoria Schwab

Sweet April! many a thought Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed; Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought, Life's golden fruit is shed. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

He forgot Gavriel and Lorcan as he bolted for her - the gold and red and blue flames utterly hers, this heir of fire. Spying him at last, she smiled faintly. A queen's smile. ~ Sarah J. Maas

Smile, breathe, go slowly. ~ Nhat Hanh

Be happy.
Be happy for no reason at all.
Believe it or not, you have the ability and free agency to make that choice. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

That's why I hadn't talked to you for a while. But man, did I miss hearing your sweet voice." Sandy was surprised. Mark was never the type to talk about "missing" anything, ~ Kim Brooks

<…>Days before, seconds after she told him she wanted to have breakfast with her husband and he liked hearing her say that, he liked it too fucking much, he fucked up. Then he kept fucking up. Then he kept fucking doing it. He knew it and he couldn't stop.
Then, the instant she pressed her mouth to his, her soft body in his lap, overwhelmed with emotion and sharing that with him he lost control and he knew he couldn't do that. And the only way he could manage to keep control was to stay the fuck away from her, her sweet smiles, her soft voice, her brightness, that fantastic fucking body. He couldn't hold up. So he stayed the fuck away from her and spent a lot of time thinking about how to encourage her to stay the fuck away from him.<…> ~ Kristen Ashley

Well, there's nothing more touching than putting a smile on a kid's face when you can. ~ Emma Roberts

He tells you to play, so you play. He tells you to curtsy, so you curtsy. He tells what you are meant to do and what you are meant not to do, so you do and you dono do. He tells you not to be angry, so you smile, you turn your eyes down, you are quiet and do exactly as he says in the hopes that this is what he wants, and then one night you realize that you have given him so much of yourself that you are nothing but the curtsy and the smile and the quiet. That you are nothing. ~ Marie Lu

It should be the art of Christians to present death as a passage to a better life, to labour to bring our souls into such a condition, as to think death not to be a death to us, but the death of itself. Death dies when I die, and I begin to live when I die. It is a sweet passage to life. We never live till we die. ~ Richard Sibbes

Moon and Sea
You are the moon, dear love, and I the sea:
The tide of hope swells high within my breast,
And hides the rough dark rocks of life's unrest
When your fond eyes smile near in perigee.
But when that loving face is turned from me,
Low falls the tide, and the grim rocks appear,
And earth's dim coast-line seems a thing to fear.
You are the moon, dear one, and I the sea. ~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I hope the strong women out there aren't quiet and they don't go away, because when people attack you for speaking, the best way to drive them nuts is to smile and carry on speaking, louder, more wisely, more intensely, more articulately than ever. ~ Neil Gaiman

For a cup brimful of sweet water cannot spill even one drop of bitter water, however suddenly jolted. ~ Amy Carmichael

When they said you wouldn't amount to anything, God saw the best in you. You can smile and have joy knowing you have favor in Him. God qualified you. ~ Amaka Imani Nkosazana

So often this summer I keep thinking: I know I'm holding back. I know I'm waiting. I know I'm afraid to go forward. But I don't know how to get there from here."
He was quiet, so she kept going. "Sometimes I see it as a tricky mountain pass between two valleys. Other times, it's like perilous straits connecting two lands. Partly it's the fear of the trip itself, I think, but partly it's the fear that I won't be able to get back. I'll turn around and the clouds will have settled over the mountaintop. Or the waters will have risen and shifted, and there will be no way home."
Paul nodded. He took her hand again, which she discovered she appreciated.
But that's not even the real fear."
He gave her an odd smile. Short on mirth but affectionate. "What's the real fear?"
The real fear is that I won't want to go home. ~ Ann Brashares

Rake," came the succinct reply. "Oh, all right," Lillian grumbled. "I suppose he is a rake. But that may not be an impediment to his courtship of Lady Natalie. Some women like rakes. Look at Evie." Evie continued to snip doggedly through the brocade ribbon, while a smile curved her lips. "I don't l-like all rakes," she said, her gaze on her work. "Just one." Evie, the gentlest and most soft-spoken of them all, had been the one least likely to capture the heart of the notorious Lord St. Vincent, who had been the definitive rake. Although Evie, with her round blue eyes and blazing red hair, possessed a rare and unconventional beauty, she was unbearably shy. And there was the stammer. But Evie also had a reserve of quiet strength and a gallant spirit that seemed to have seduced her husband utterly. "And that former rake obviously adores you beyond reason," Annabelle said. ~ Lisa Kleypas

She blinked once before the most brilliant smile lit up her face. "Just when I think I can't possibly love you even more, you do something incredibly unexpected. Thank you."
The ground shifted beneath him the tiniest bit every time she told him she loved him. She'd confessed the first time two days after he'd saved her from Einar. He'd been waiting for the right moment but she'd beat him to it. The only positive thing to come out of that bastard Einar infiltrating the mountain sector was that they'd patched up a security hole. He still wasn't certain what the male had wanted; probably just to cause as much destruction as he could. It didn't matter now.
"I love you too." He moved toward her, planning to show her just how much.
But she shook her head and waved some wand thing at him. She used it to do something to her eyebrows.
Since she'd moved all her stuff into his room he'd discovered that females took up a lot of space. "I know that look. We don't have time." She disappeared into the bathroom once again.
This time he followed, his body already humming with the need to be inside her. "We have plenty of time."
She'd invited half a dozen females from their sector as well as their mates tonight to celebrate the unanimous change in the Ducereco law. They'd also started plans on her new project. Things were about to change for his people and he knew it was for the better.
Shaking her head, she turned away from him and faced the mirror. T ~ Savannah Stuart

Earlier tonight, when we you were telling me that story with your hands…"

I grinned, and my cheek spread into his chin. Using the paper was easy enough and got us through most of the evening. But at one point he had insisted I try to tell him something using only hand gestures to see if he could keep up. I told him about discovering Miaka without him having any clue what the big motions of my hands meant. Every once in a while he would interject with a silly comment like "I love jelly, too." I finished with a flourish, to which he said "jazz hands." I didn't know what it meant, but it made me smile all the same.

"I just want you to know, that's the best conversation I've ever had," he whispered. "You probably feel like you don't communicate much, but I think you say a lot. Your eyes, your posture. There's a world of words around you, Kahlen. And you may not be able to express it all as easily as you'd like, but I can tell that you understand things. And not just the surface of things… if that makes sense. ~ Kiera Cass

What the fuck are you doing?" His hands wanted to hold her, his arms wanted to wrap her up, but he squeezed the edge of the bed. Whatever game she was playing, he wasn't going to fall for it. She wouldn't make him a fool. Not more than she already had. "I told you. Sweet is good. Sweet can be better. I don't think you know that." Her hands were around his face, and it made his chest tight. He didn't understand that, either. Coming here had not eased his confusion; he was more confused now than ever. Maybe ever in his whole motherfucking life. "Fuck you." She smiled. "Maybe. But sweet. ~ Susan Fanetti

Next week, I should be back to my old self."
"I hope not." Dallas nudged me with his shoulder. ~ Veronica Blade

What a silly routine, Natalie thought, not realizing, sitting there alone on the stool in the center of the ring of girls, how she was jeopardizing her own future in college, her own future for four years and perhaps for the rest of her life; how even worse than the actual being a bad sport was the state of mind which led her into defiance of this norm, this ring of placid, masked girls, with their calm futures ahead and their regular pasts proven beyond a doubt; how one person stepping however aside from their meaningless, echoing standards, set perhaps by a violent movement before their recollection, and handed down to them by other placid creatures, might lose a seat among them by questions, by rebellion, by anything except a cheerful smile and a resolution to hurt other people. ~ Shirley Jackson

Her first impression had been that he was ugly - huge and gangly with eerie transparent eyes. But when he'd smiled at her, lights danced across those blue eyes like sparkles on a river, and she'd seen beauty in his unfamiliar features. How could anyone with a smile that warm be evil or untrustworthy? After she got over her initial fear, she even found the man's size appealing and powerfully masculine. Fireflies flitted and glowed in her stomach whenever their eyes met. ~ Bonnie Dee

All that matters is love and work. ~ Sigmund Freud

It wasn't an easy, sweet kiss like I'd imagined my first would be, but frustrated and hungry. That was good, better than easy and sweet, because after everything, I was frustrated and hungry for him, too. ~ Jodi Meadows

But how? How can you just get over these things, darling? ... You've had so much strife but you're always happy. How do you do it?'
'I choose to ... I can leave myself to rot in the past, spend my time hating people for what happened, like my father did, or I can forgive and forget.'
'But it's not that easy.'
He smiled that Frank smile. 'Oh, but my treasure, it is so much less exhausting. You only have to forgive once. To resent, you have to do it all day, every day. You have to keep remembering all the bad things ... I would have to make a list, a very, very long list and make sure I hated the people on it the right amount. That I did a proper job of hating, too: very Teutonic! No' - his voice became sober- 'we always have a choice. All of us.' p.323 ~ M.L. Stedman

Each time a girl approached the table, Mortimer would smile. Like this: And each time the girl would shriek and run away. ~ Kelly DiPucchio

Try not to breathe," I tell Lira. "It might get stuck halfway out."
Lira flicks up her hood. "You should try not to talk then," she retorts. "Nobody wants your words being preserved for eternity."
"They're pearls of wisdom, actually."
I can barely see Lira's eyes under the mass of dark fur from her coat, but the mirthless curl of her smile is ever-present. It lingers in calculated amusement as she considers what to say next. Readies to ricochet the next blow.
Lira pulls a line of ice from her hair, artfully indifferent. "If that is what pearls are worth these days, I'll make sure to invest in diamonds."
"Or gold," I tell her smugly. "I hear it's worth its weight."
Kye shakes the snow from his sword and scoffs. "Anytime you two want to stop making me feel nauseated, go right ahead."
"Are you jealous because I'm not flirting with you?" Madrid asks him, warming her finger on the trigger mechanism of her gun.
"I don't need you to flirt with me," he says. "I already know you find me irresistible."
Madrid reholsters her gun. "It's actually quite easy to resist you when you're dressed like that."
Kye looks down at the sleek red coat fitted snugly to his lithe frame. The fur collar cuddles against his jaw and obscures the bottoms of his ears, making it seem as though he has no neck at all. He throws Madrid a smile.
"Is it because you think I look sexier wearing nothing?"
Torik lets out a withering sigh and pinche ~ Alexandra Christo

What's your doggie name, honey?" "Mom ... " "Oh, c'mon, kiddo - we'll look back on this someday and laugh together. Promise. Now cough it up. We'll laugh for you until you're ready to see the funny." He couldn't help but smile. It was pretty funny if you looked at it from the other side. "Fluffy. ~ Dakota Cassidy

Never doubt love ... Never question it when it comes onstage, but be happy for its entrance. And do not weep when it makes its exit, for it leaves behind it the sweet aroma of caring, a fragrance to linger the rest of your life. ~ Helen Van Slyke

THE FOX AND THE CROW
A Crow was sitting on a branch of a tree with a piece of cheese in her beak when a Fox observed her and set his wits to work to discover some way of getting the cheese. Coming and standing under the tree he looked up and said, "What a noble bird I see above me! Her beauty is without equal, the hue of her plumage exquisite. If only her voice is as sweet as her looks are fair, she ought without doubt to be Queen of the Birds." The Crow was hugely flattered by this, and just to show the Fox that she could sing she gave a loud caw. Down came the cheese, of course, and the Fox, snatching it up, said, "You have a voice, madam, I see: what you want is wits. ~ Aesop

He loved a book because it was a book; he loved its odor, its form, its title. What he loved in a manuscript was its old illegible date, the bizarre and strange Gothic characters, the heavy gilding which loaded its drawings. It was its pages covered with dust - dust of which he breathed the sweet and tender perfume with delight. ~ Gustave Flaubert

I add a smile to everything I wear and that has worked great for me. ~ David White

What the hell, Kyle? How many damn times have you snuck out of the house?"
Kyle's laugh filled the small car. "Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to. Now tell me more about this drug den." Kyle cranked the heat up to full blast to counter the night wind as they drove.
"Well, it was scary at eight-thirty in the morning, so at ten o'clock at night, we should crap our pants."
"Ah, good times. This should be fun," Kyle said with a smile. ~ Debra Anastasia

There is no life here but the slow death of days, and so when the evil falls on the town, its coming seems almost preordained, sweet and morphic. It is almost as though the town knows the evil was coming and the shape it would take. ~ Stephen King

Kissing Boris was very different from kissing Thomas. Thomas was gentle and sweet, almost painfully so, but Boris was all aggression and passion, as if he desperately wanted to throw Hans across the bar and fuck him into oblivion. They were both wonderful in their own way.
Hans moaned and forced himself to pull away. "Maybe we should stop. Thomas - "
"I promise," Boris interrupted, "I will give Thomas special attention later." He turned to his husband. "This is okay now?"
Thomas smiled at them. "It's very much okay. I'm not jealous. I love seeing the two of you happy."
"I don't want you to think I'm more attracted to Boris than to you," Hans said, hoping he wasn't crossing a line. "I like both of you."
"We like you too, puppy," Thomas said ~ Jamie Fessenden