Don't Hide Your Smile Quotes & Sayings

Something in me is broken but people don't realize it because I always smile to hide it. — Souad

Hey, bro, do you think you can put Shorty back on her chain?"
I stepped forward with my hands on my hips, only slightly intimidated to find Kaleb almost eye level with me when he was seated and I was standing.
"First of all, no one is the boss of me but me. Secondly, if you ever reference my 'chain' again, I will kick your ass." I jabbed him hard in the chest with my finger. Possibly breaking it. "And thirdly, don't call me Shorty."
Kaleb sat silently for a second, his eyes wide as he looked at Michael. "Where did you get her? Can you get me one?"
I blew out a loud, frustrated sigh and dropped down beside Michael, who didn't even try to hide his smile. "You should probably apologize to Emerson."
"I am sorry." Kaleb grinned at me. "Sorry I didn't meet you first. — Myra McEntire

It's amazing how much power a smile holds. It's contagious and brightens people's day. It's also the most powerful camouflage. For that person who seems to have it all together is merely masking the pain of drowning tears. Don't be so quick to assume. — Brittany Burgunder

I let Richard walk out on me. I think he'd have gone anyway, but I just sat on the floor and watched him go. I didn't stand in his way. I figured it was his choice, and you cant hold someone if they don't want to be held. If someone really wants to be free of you, you have to let them go. Well, fuck that, fuck that all to hell. Don't go, Asher, please, don't go. I love the way your hair shines in the light. I love that way you smile when you're not trying to hide or impress anyone. I love your laughter. I love the way your voice can hold sorrow like the taste of rain. I love the way you watch Jean-Claude when he moves through a room, when you don't think anyone's watching, because its exactly the way I watch him. I love your eyes. I love your pain. I love you. — Laurell K. Hamilton

I lend everyone my ear,
But nobody my heart,
And I sure would like to change that,
But I don't know where to start,
I smile more to myself,
Than the world will ever see,
Because the only time my smile is real,
Is in my own company,
People don't know how I feel,
They never even ask,
It seems I have fooled them all,
They can't see past my mask,
If they were with me late at night,
When the world was still asleep,
Maybe I'd let them sort,
Through the secrets that I keep,
But when I wake at 2am,
Nobody is ever there,
And I learnt that why I hide my heart,
Is because no-one really cares. — Erin Hanson

We lie with our faces because that's what we've been taught to do since early childhood. "Don't make that face," our parents growl when we honestly react to the food placed in front of us. "At least look happy when your cousins stop by," they instruct, and you learn to force a smile. Our parents - and society - are, in essence, telling us to hide, deceive, and lie with our faces for the sake of social harmony. So it is no surprise that we tend to get pretty good at it, so good, in fact, that when we put on a happy face at a family gathering, we might look as if we love our in-laws when, in reality, we are fantasizing about how to hasten their departure. — Joe Navarro

A smile curved his lips.
Stunned, she stood there unable to move as she saw the one thing she'd never thought to see form him. A real, full-blown smile. The man was absolutely gorgeous.
"My God, you have dimples."
His smile vanished instantly. "I know."
"No, no, no, no, no!" she said, reaching up to touch his cheek. "Don't you dare hide those. They're beautiful."
He dodged her touch. "They look stupid."
She let out an aggravated breath. "They are sexy as all get-out. Trust me. Dimples like those will definitely get you laid. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Live life in moments, not in days or years or your schedules. It's our misconception - most of the time - that we live our lives the way we want. Every single step that we take is influenced by others. Only the part that we hide from everyone else and keep deep within our heart, is our own. I strongly urge you all to realize that hidden part of yours. Go, live that part. Live your life. Don't let your dreams die within you. Trust me, your struggle, your fight, will be worth the risk in opening yourself up. Get up. Inhale the air of passion. Start your journey. Grab your dreams. Enjoy your mistakes. Dance to the rhythm of your heartbeats. Smile. Laugh. Love. Live.' Author — Savi Sharma

She holds herself with such reserve. She smiles, but the smile doesn't reach her eyes, even in the company of the girls she's chosen to eat with. Why?
I have no clue, and I really don't want to spend my time worrying about it. But my brain pushes at the question anyway.
Why are people aloof?
Because they don't want to let others in.
Why don't they want to let others in?
Well, sometimes because they're shy, and sometimes because they're convinced of their own superiority.
But those aren't the only reasons. Sometimes it's because thay have something to hide. — Lauren Myracle

A loud song with a thumping beat rang from Jay's pocket. He gave me a goofy grin and began to bop his head back and forth to the rhythm. Oh, no-not the crazy booty dance.
"Please don't," I begged.
Jay broke into his funky ringtone dance, shoulders bouncing and hips moving from side to side. People around us stepped away, surprised, then began to laugh and cheer him on. I pressed my fingers against my lips to hide an embarrassed smile. Just as the ringtone was about to end, he gave a little bow, straightened up, and answered the call. — Wendy Higgins

I don't remember the time where a smile actually meant happiness sadly, so many of my peers only smile to hide things — R H Sin

Don't say that. Don't even joke about it! The idea of ten weeks with a single, locked-down girlfriend - even the fake kind - gives me all over body hives. Sue me for making a face about that. I don't think you've thought any of this through. It would involve all of our friends, parents - even if we don't use my real name - text messaging, emails - and a lot of time. Time is something I don't have to burn. Plus, it would kill the variety of ... of ... yeah ... girl fun in my summer," I imply, wondering if she'll call my bluff. The only real summer varieties I score are the extra odd jobs I pick up at the rink.
She turns bright red and I have to hide my smile.
"Disgusting," she snorts and reverts back to rubbing her temples. — Anne Eliot

Believe it or not, I've never been the most popular person at any party." She tried for a wry smile and almost managed it.

He shook his head. "That's only because you hide from people. You don't let them get to know you. Claire, if you let them see who you really are, every person in that room would adore you. — Noelle Adams

Salvage what you can so you don't end up like me; bitter and hateful but disguising it with a smile, and then hide it away under the cover of wild nights and very early mornings. — J.C. Wickhart

Dustfinger inspected his reddened fingers and felt the taut skin. 'He might tell me how my story ends,' he murmured.
Meggie looked at him in astonishment. 'You mean you don't know?'
Dustfinger smiled. Meggie still didn't particularly like his smile. It seemed to appear only to hide something else. 'What's so unusual about that, princess?' he asked quietly. 'Do you know how your story ends?'
Meggie had no answer for that. — Cornelia Funke

Why don't you try?"

I pull away, startled. "Me?"

"No, the other redhead wearing a dress big enough to hide a herd of cattle." He reaches for my hand and grasps a finger to pull it back, but I resist. "Come on. This is not the time to be a coward. Don't you want to see what you're capable of?"

"Well, of course I do - "

"Then try." Derrick offers me an encouraging smile. "You just breathe it out like air. It's not difficult." He waves a hand at me. "Now close your eyes."

I arch a brow and sigh. "Really?"

He glares. "If you don't close your eyes I'll change that dress so quickly you'll look like a furry citrus fruit before you can even call me a bastard. — Elizabeth May

If he had but a little more brains, she thought to herself, I might make something of him; but she never let him perceive the opinion she had of him; listened with indefatigable complacency to his stories of the stable and the mess; laughed at all his jokes...When he came home, she was alert and happy; when he went out she pressed him to go; when he stayed at home, she played and sang for him, made him good drinks, superintended his dinner, warmed his slippers, and steeped his soul in comfort. The best of women {I have heard my grandmother say) are hypocrites. We don't know how much they hide from us: how watchful they are when they seem most artless and confidential: how often those frank smile which they wear so easily are traps to cajole or elude or disarm--I don't mean in your mere coquettes, but your domestic models and paragons of female virute. — William Makepeace Thackeray