She Used To Smile Quotes & Sayings

Recalling, some time later, what I had felt at the time, I distinguished the impression of having been held for a moment in her mouth, myself, naked, without any of the social attributes which belonged equally to her other playmates and, when she used my surname, to my parents, accessories of which her lips - by the effort she made, a little after her father's manner, to articulate the words to which she wished to give a special emphasis - had the air of stripping, of divesting me, like the skin from a fruit of which one can swallow only the pulp, while her glance, adapting itself to the same new degree of intimacy as her speech, fell on me also more directly and testified to the consciousness, the pleasure, even the gratitude that it felt by accompanying itself with a smile. — Marcel Proust

She looked at him, beautiful Kazimir whose smile used to work on her like a summons, compelling her to his side. — Laini Taylor

I like the color of the Caribbean." I paused and absorbed the warmth of her smile before adding, "Dogs, not cats. Boxers, not briefs. Redheads over brunettes ... " I glanced sideways at her, and she met my gaze. "I have a penchant for girls in velvet jackets ... and I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
She choked in surprise, sputtered, and shook her head.
"You see? This is what I mean."
"What?"
"Nobody talks like that. I barely know you."
I was genuinely confused. Didn't girls like to hear this stuff? Besides, it was, conveniently enough, the truth. "Well, I talk like this. And you should be used to people telling you you're beautiful."
"Well, I'm not," she said, and she sounded like she was getting irritated with me again. The feeling was mutual.
I leaned against the wall and pulled up one knee. "Okay. I take it back. You are completely average. Dull, dull, dull. Unremarkable in every way. — Anne Greenwood Brown

Debbie glanced at her cards. "Okay," she said, "Aleksander Koturovic was a Serbian biochemist and neurophysiologist before people used those words. He also did a lot of research into evolution and wrote a few papers on Neanderthal man and extinctions. He was the Walter Bishop of his time, and most of his ideas got him labeled as a quack." She gave a little smile as she flipped an index card to the back of the pile. "To be honest, half his ideas would still get him labeled as a quack. — Peter Clines

In my art history degree course, we did a module on palimpsests - medieval sheets of parchment so costly that, once the text was no longer needed, the sheets were simply scraped clean and reused, leaving the old writing faintly visible through the new. Later, Renaissance artists used the word pentimenti, repentances, to describe mistakes or alterations that were covered with new paint, only to be revealed years or even centuries later as the paint thinned with time, leaving both the original and the revision on view.

Sometimes I have a sense that this house - our relationship in it, with it, with each other - is like a palimpsest or pentimento, that however much we try to overpaint Emma Matthews, she keeps tiptoeing back: a faint image, an enigmatic smile, stealing its way into the corner of the frame. — J.P. Delaney

I can't promise you anything beyond this, Shannon. Hell, maybe nothing will happen. My body isn't like it used to be. But I can make sure you're taken care of." She gave him the sweetest, sexiest smile and looped her arms up around his neck. "John, I'm sure you'll take care of me. I have no doubt. And don't worry about promises. I'm here, number one, because I am your friend. I want the best for you. If I can help you over this hurdle, so to speak, I will." His throat tightened with emotion, and his eyes burned. He buried his face in her hair to keep her from seeing. He had to clear his throat several times before he could talk though. "Thank you, Shannon. We're friends with benefits, now, huh?" She giggled beneath him, and nipped his neck. "I guess so." He — J.M. Madden

Jaenelle tried to smile. "They won't find their way through the maze. Not this maze, anyway." Then she looked sadly at Daemon's gaunt, bruised body and gently brushed the long, dirty, tangled black hair off his forehead. "Ah, Daemon. I had gotten used to thinking of my body as a weapon that was used against me. I'd forgotten that it's also a gift. If it's not too late, I'll do better. I promise." Jaenelle placed her transparent hands on either side of Daemon's head. She closed her eyes. The Black Jewel glowed. Listening to the Hayllian guards thrashing around somewhere in the maze, Surreal sank to the ground and settled down to wait. *Daemon.* The island slowly sank into the sea of blood. He curled up in the center of the pulpy ground while the word sharks circled, waiting for him. *Daemon. — Anne Bishop

We used to talk and smile seven days ago when I was wearing a suit. Now I'm dressed in a beard and smell of dog shit I don't even get eye contact. I ask her how her week is going, and she looks to her friend behind the counter as if to say: I think this creep is hitting on me. Shall we call the police? — Craig Stone

In the eulogy by the graveside, I told everyone how my sister and I used to sing to each other on our birthday. I told them that, when I thought of my sister, I could still hear her laughter, sense her optimism, and feel her faith. I told them that my sister was the kindest person I;ve ever known, and that the world was a sadder place without her in it. And finally, I told them to remember my sister with a smile, like I did, for even though she was being buried near my parents, the best parts of her would always stay alive, deep within our hearts. — Nicholas Sparks

Hey,Gary," Savannah said, "do you want to go on a vampire hunt?"
Greogri swung around to pin her with his brilliant silver gaze. Do not even start. He used the beauty of his voice like the weapon it was, compelling and mesmerizing.
Savannah blinked, then smiled sweetly up at him. "Really,Gary. I saw it one of those tour brochures. Isn't that the perfect place to look for those society types? They must hang out around those kinds of things?"
"A vampire hunt?" gary echoed incredulously. "For real?"
"I have the brochure at home." She studiously avoided Gregori's furious gaze.
She wore the little secret smile again, the one that always drove Gregori crazy, turned him inside out, and melted his heart. She was up to no good. He had no doubt of it. It has occurred to me that you need a good spanking.
Her smile grew smug. I said I was willing to try anything once, lifemate, but i think it best if we wait until we are alone,don't you? — Christine Feehan

She's just nervous, Paddy. Don't worry, hon," saidSharon , her lips pulled into a generous smile. Her eyes sparkled with warmth and sincerity. "I'm used to these neck nibblers."
"No offense,Sharon . But I'd rather have the chocolate," I said.
She laughed and slapped her thigh. "Hell's bells, Patrick! She's the reason you've had me eating these Godiva truffles all day?"
I looked at Patrick. "You're mean." His black brows formed question marks. Then his lips curled into a smile. "No, not just mean. Cruel."
"I had her eat truffles for you," he said.
"Are you insane? How is her eating my chocolate in any way helpful?"
Sharon chortled. "You might not be able to eat the truffle, sweetie, but you'll taste it. Prob'ly be the best chocolate you ever eat, too."
I looked at Sharon , then at Patrick. "Are you telling me that she's gonna taste like chocolate?"
"Yes. — Michele Bardsley

I think you've never quite altogether forgiven yourself for that woman in Los Angeles all that time ago."
"Candy Sloan," I said.
Susan nodded.
"Only time I ever cheated on you," I said.
"Makes it that much worse, doesn't it?" Susan said.
"I'm not sure it makes any difference," I said.
Susan smiled the smile she used when she knew I was wrong but planned to let me get away with it. — Robert B. Parker

Is it far?" she asked.
"About three hours, ma'am," he said, keeping his eyes on the pavement.
"Another three hours." She tried to think of something witty and British to say. "I already feel like a thrice-used tea bag."
He didn't smile.
"Oh. Um, I'm Jane. What's your name?"
He shook his head. "Not allowed to say."
Of course, she thought, I'm entering Austenland. The servant class is invisible. — Shannon Hale

I shan't mind if you don't," he agreed. "But I'll not let you go, Prudence. Til not pester you, but know this: I will wait until you choose to listen to your heart."
"Pshaw." It was a feeble effort. She took a deep breath and tried again. "Humbug! How can you presume to know my heart?"
He smiled a slow, devastating smile. "You are my heart." He lifted her hand and kissed it. "And our hearts beat in tune. I know it - I, who used not to believe in such things. And you know it. — Anne Gracie

What does that word mean?" Cassidy asked. Her voice was soft, sexy. Mind-blowing. "Querida, or whatever you said? I don't speak Spanish."
"It's a term of endearment. An Anglo might say darling or honey."
"What was the other one you used? Me ha?
"Mi ja. Short for mi hija. It's what you say to someone you care about."
She smiled. "When you say that you sound
I don't know
affectionate."
"Maybe I like cats," Diego said.
Cassidy rested her hand on his chest, and her smile widened. "Meow. — Jennifer Ashley

she smiled the same gentle smile she used to greet humans to the underworld. "But who in Hell is going to become his mate?" "His brother Kris will take care of it," she said. "He'll make things right with Rhyn after their nasty break?" "Not on purpose, but yes." Intrigued, Gabriel relented from his stubborn position before the — Lizzy Ford

Aelin's hand wavered slightly over his wound. "What's your shield made of, then?"
Fenrys tried and failed to shrug. But Gavriel muttered from where he worked on the still-whimpering pirate, "Arrogance."
Aelin snorted, but didn't dare take her eyes off Fenrys's injury as she said, "So you do have sense of humor, Gavriel."
The Lion of Doranelle gave a wary smile over his shoulder. The rare-sighted, restrained twin to Aedion's own flashing grins. Aelin had called him Uncle Kitty-Cat all of one time before Aedion had snarled viciously enough to make her think carefully before using the term again. Gavriel, to his credit, had merely given Aelin a long-suffereing sigh that seemed to be used only when she or Fenrys were around.
"That sense of humor only appears about once every century," Fenrys rasped, "so you'd better hope you Settle, or else that's the last time you'll see it. — Sarah J. Maas

You're sad-looking," she said. "My grandson used to be such a happy boy. He used to write me stories. I remember the first story he ever wrote me, 'Once upon a time, there was a boy.' And that became 'Once upon a time there was a boy who wanted to fly.' And they kept getting better and better over time. I never found out if the boy got to fly."
I gave her a small smile. If only she knew the boy's wings had been clipped. — Chris Colfer

I would take them a few times, feel my emotions and sense of reality fuzz, and look at my mother who had been doped up on them since we moved to Chattanooga. I would see her blank, hazel eyes, and her bright, but empty, smile with chronic, artificial, exaggerated cheer, and become scared. I often wondered if she was buried under layers upon layers of southern sugar. I would make bitchy, inappropriate statements and look for her. I would say something, anything to shake her and look into her eyes for something real. I saw it when she was upset or afraid. I saw it when she'd spot me exiting my bathroom, hair tied back, knowing what I'd done. I saw it when she found out I was raped. I saw it when I told her about the drugs I used. I saw flickers of a real person, but she quickly disappeared within herself once she gathered composure. I decided not to be like her. Even if it meant embracing my demons, I wanted to be real. After a couple doses, I would toss the meds in the garbage. — Maggie Young

My mother looked at my dad and didn't know him. Didn't know where she was. Who she was. What was happening to her. There was this, like, permanent, creepy smile, cracked lips pulled back from bleeding gums, her teeth stained with blood. Sounds came out of her mouth, but they weren't words. The place in her brain that made words was packed with virus, and the virus didn't know language - it knew only how to make more of itself. And then my mother died in a fury of jerks and gargled screams, her uninvited guests rocketing out of every orifice, because she was done, they'd used her up, time to turn off the lights and find a new home. — Rick Yancey

Crying from sweetness doesn't count," he whispered back, and I felt the moisture prick my eyes, just as I'd predicted. "Gi used to say happy tears watered our gratitude. She even had a cross-stitch that said as much. I thought it was stupid." I could hear the smile in his voice.
"Ah . . . so Gi was a believer in the five greats. — Amy Harmon

She stopped and listened to him and somehow his cheerful, friendly little whistle gave her a pleased feeling
even a disagreeable little girl may be lonely, and the big closed house and big bare moor and big bare gardens had made this one feel as if there was no one left in the world but herself. If she had been an affectionate child, who had been used to being loved, she would have broken her heart, but even though she was "Mistress Mary Quite Contrary" she was desolate, and the bright-breasted little bird brought a look into her sour little face which was almost a smile. She listened to him until he flew away. He was not like an Indian bird and she liked him and wondered if she should ever see him again. Perhaps he lived in the mysterious garden and knew all about it. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Aiden was staring. So was Caleb, although he looked like he was quite used to all this ... woman on display. Hell, even I was staring.
She crossed the hall, her long legs parting the chiffon of her skirt, playing peekaboo. Dear gods, I felt my cheeks start to burn, but I still couldn't look away. As she neared, her all-white eyes flared, and then dimmed. Two bright, emerald-colored eyes appeared.
Caleb relaxed beside me, a slow smile creeping across his handsome face - the face I'd missed so much. Hello, Persephone. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I think the Stealth and Evasion lesson was the strangest,' Lucy said. 'Not so much the lesson as the teacher actually. I mean . . . Ms Leon. She's . . . well . . .'

'A cat?' Otto offered with a cheery smile.

'Yeah . . . yeah, that's really the only way of putting it,' Lucy said, sounding slightly bewildered.

'Don't worry, you get used to it,' Shelby said. 'Besides, it's only when the giant mutated flesh-eating plants and android ninjas are around that things really get weird.'

Lucy started to laugh but stopped when she saw the expression on the other students' faces.

'That was a joke, right?' Lucy asked. — Mark Walden

I'm thinking that it will be autumn soon," she said, lifting her gaze to his. "Autumn is my absolute favorite season. Spring is overrated. It's soggy and the trees are still bare from winter. Winter drags on and on, and summer is nice, but it's all the same. Autumn is different. I mean, is there any perfume in the world that can compare with the smell of burning leaves?" she asked with an engaging smile. Matt thought she smelled a hell of a lot better than burning leaves, but he let her continue. "Autumn - is thexincgitsinagre
changing. It's like dusk." "Dusk?"
"Dusk is my favorite time of day, for the same reason. When I was young, I used to walk down our driveway at dusk in the summer and stand at the fence, watching all the cars going by with their headlights on. Everyone had a place to go, something to do. The night was just beginning ... " She trailed off in embarrassment. "That must sound incredibly silly."
"It sounds incredibly lonely. — Judith McNaught

Oh, Callie-mine," Anne said, her voice taking on a tone she'd used when Callie was a little girl and crying over some injustice, "your white knight, he will come."
One side of Callie's mouth kicked up in a wry smile. Anne had said those words countless times over the last two decades.
"Forgive me, Anne, but I'm not so certain that he will."
Oh, he will," Anne said firmly. "And when you least expect."
I find I'm rather tired of waiting." Callie laughed half-heartedly. "Which is probably why I've turned my attentions to such a dark knight. — Sarah MacLean

We were all trapped in stories, she said, just as he used to say, his wavy hair, his naughty smile, his beautiful mind, each of us the prisoner of our own solipsistic narrative, each family the captive of the family story, each community locked within its own tale of itself, each people the victims of their own versions of history, and there were parts of the world where the narratives collided and went to war, where there were two or more incompatible stories fighting for space on, to speak, the same page. — Salman Rushdie

[She] knew that it was not precisely a body that one loved. One loved the man who shone out through the eyes and used its mouth to smile and speak. — Louis De Bernieres

Kinley stepped up behind Law, peering out from behind his back. "Are you sorry you kidnapped me?"
He had to be honest with her. "No. If I hadn't, you wouldn't be here. I'd be a lot sorrier about that. I think you would, too."
She pursed her lips. "Are you sorry that your dog raped mine?"
He wasn't about to take that. "No, your dog led mine into sin. He has a thing for bows. She used it against him."
He caught the faintest hint of a smile from her. "I'll admit, she's a flirty thing. So if you're not apologizing for kidnapping me or very likely turning my dog into a single mother, what are you sorry about?"
So many things. "For being rude to you. — Shayla Black

Luke used his thumb to wipe away her tears.
"No, Gracie. I want you in my arms. I'll hold you. I'll keep you. I'll make you forget whatever it is you're running away from."
"Don't," she took a huge breath. "I don't want to cry. I don't want you to see me cry."
"Then stay in my arms, and I'll make you smile. — Isobelle Cate

Her grandmother used to say there were men the devil put on earth to test good women. Clara was tempted to ask the guy whether he'd just zip-lined in from hell.
"Go away," she said instead.
His smile was worth a thousand words, most of them dirty. His voice dipped. "How can I, when your eyes begged me to come over? — Dana Marton

Marie, now Mme. Driscoll, turned to Berthe and smiled, as she used to when they were children. Once again, the smile said, Have I done the right thing? Is this what you wanted? Yes, yes, said Berthe silently, but she went on crying. — Mavis Gallant

They're wood violets," she said. "I haven't seen them on the island since...."
"They're very rare," Henry said, filling the void that Bee had left when her voice trailed off. "You can't plant them, for they won't grow. They have to choose you."
Bee's eyes met Henry's, and she smiled, a gentle, forgiving smile. It warmed me to see it. "Evelyn has a theory about these flowers," she said, pausing as if to pull a dusty memory off a shelf in her mind, handling it with great care. "Yes," she said, the memory in plain view. "She used to say they grow where they are needed, that they signal healing, and hope. — Sarah Jio

Up on the roof Tatiana thought about the evening minute, the minute she used to walk out the factory doors, turn her head to the left even before her body turned, and look for his face. The evening minute as she hurried down the street, her happiness curling her mouth upward to the white sky, the red wings speeding her to him, to look up at him and smile. — Paullina Simons

He lowered his head and shook it from side to side, giving her a rueful smile. "I find it so ironic that someone I think of as sometimes so brave to the point of stupidity could be so terrified of her own happiness,"
Bree felt the shot hit home, and she couldn't look at him. She ran her finger along the marble topped of the island. "That's ridiculous. Who in their right mind is afraid of being happy?"
"Someone who has lost too much," he moved slowly towards her in gentle careful strides as if he was afraid of startling her.
Fair enough, she did tend to attack him when he tried to corner her, but for some reason, Bree just couldn't tonight. The much too relaxing bubble bath must be making her sluggish.
"Someone who is so used to being told she caused too much pain to others to ever be worthy of happiness herself,"
Bree closed her eyes. "Shut up. Please, Alessandro. — E. Jamie

Francis blew out a breath. 'While I appreciate your concern, Mr. Murdock, Drucilla is not your average lady. She's a highly competent investigator who used to work for the government before she began working for Theodore. She's quite handy with a pistol, uses the fact she's a lady to lethal advantage, and I wouldn't dream of telling her I'm putting an end to anything, especially since I'm fairly certain she'd shoot me.'
Drucilla's eyes widened, and then she smiled a lovely smile. 'Why, that's the nicest thing you've ever said about me, Francis.'
'Don't let it go to your head. — Jen Turano

Sounds like a plan. Pat, we're going up to the attic. If we don't come out in a couple hours, the boxes ate us." Pat raised a brow and settled Micah against her shoulder as Finn quietly climbed to sit next to her. Again, that slight pain sliced through her at the sight of the now solemn little boy who used to smile with the greatest of ease. "If you're afraid of a little dust, I have no hope for you," Pat teased, and Bay stuck out her tongue like the tough Enforcer mate she was. — Carrie Ann Ryan

Simon told me I should take you home and start making kits. What do you think?" Max looked down at her, love and lust glowing equally in his brilliant smile. "Max?" "What?" His tone was wary; he'd come to expect the unexpected when she used that particular tone of voice. "Will I give birth to a baby or a litter?" "Emma," he groaned. "I mean, will we be feeding them baby formula or Kitten Chow?" "Emma!" "If they get stuck in a tree, who do we call? Does the fire department do kitten rescues anymore? This is important stuff to know, Lion-O!" "God save me. — Dana Marie Bell

I love you, O'Reilly. When are you going to get that through your thick Aussie skull?"
He laughed softly, and she tilted back her head to look up at him wonderingly, "What's so funny?"
He put his hands on her shoulders and rubbed the tight muscles of her neck. "Do you realize you've never used my first name?" he said. "It's Patrick, you know."
He watched her lips curl into a smile that made his chest ache. "You've always been O'Reilly to me."
"Huh," he grunted. "Except when you're mad. Then I become Mister O'Reilly. — Candice Proctor

Ran into him? Are you not together?"

Cassie shook her head. "No."
Gage contradicted her by saying, "We are. We're getting married."

Cassie leaned into him and hissed. "Would you stop telling people that." She turned back to Sam and gave her a smile. "We're not getting married."

Gage used Cassie's hair to tip her head back again. He leaned over, giving her another kiss before saying, "Sunshine, we are."

Cassie yanked her hair out of his fist and took a step away from him. "Honey limpkins," she said, sarcastically, "we are not. — Sarah Curtis

Caine wanted to be a doctor," Serena recalled with an innocent smile. "At least,that's what he told all the little girls."
"It was a natural aspiration," Caine defended himself, lifting his hand to his mother's knee while his arm held Diana firmly against him.
"Grant used a different approach," Shelby recalled. "I think he was fourteen when he talked Dee-Dee O'Brian into modeling for him-in the nude."
"That was strictly for the purpose of art," he countered when Gennie lifted a brow at him. "And I was fifteen."
"Life studies are an essential part of any art course," Gennie said as she started to draw again. "I remember one male model in particular-" She broke off as Grant's eyes narrowed. "Ah,that scowl's very natural,Grant,try not to lose it. — Nora Roberts

The steel door of the incinerator went up and the muted hum of the eternal fire became a red roaring. The heat lunged out at them like a famished beast. Then Rahel's Ammu was fed to it. Her hair, her skin, her smile. Her voice. They way she used Kipling to love her children before putting them to bed: We be of one blood, though and I. Her goodnight kiss. The way she held their faces steady with one hand (squashed-cheeked, fish-mouthed) while she parted and combed their hair with the other. The way she held knickers out for Rahel to climb into. Left leg, right leg. All this was fed to the beast, and it was satisfied.
She was their Ammu and their Baba and she had loved them Double. — Arundhati Roy

Why hello!" she said, and the dog jumped and pressed its front paws against her knees, then actually licked her with a dry, paper tongue. Ceony laughed and scratched behind its ears. It panted with excitement. "Wherever did you come from?"
The door squeaked again, announcing Mg. Thane's arrival. He looked a little tired, but no worse for wear, and still wore that long indigo coat. "This one won't give me hives," he said with a smile that beamed in his eyes. "It's not the same, but I thought it would do, for now."
Wide-eyed, Ceony slowly stood, the paper dog yapping in its whispery voice and nudging her ankles with its muzzle. "You made this?" she asked, feeling her ribs knit over her lungs. "This . . . this is what you were doing last night?"
He scratched the back of his head. "Were you up? I apologize - I'm not used to having others in the house again. — Charlie N. Holmberg

It was called 'We Wear the Mask', by Paul Laurence Dunbar. I transcribed the first stanza and then started jotting down my reaction to it.

We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes, -
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

I used to wear masks so subtle I barely noticed them. A compliment to my mother after a dismal meal, a smile at my best friend when she sang out of tune, a forced laugh at my uncle's bad jokes. I wore small masks that came and went, like fleeting expressions.

I am stuck inside the mask I wear now. I want to rip it off. I want to show my scars to the world, to unveil the ugliness that breathes inside me. I want to be unashamed. I want to be unafraid. But every day the mask gets tighter, and I suffocate a little more.

I stopped writing. — Catherine Doyle

Papa wants you to marry some decrepit old wigsby?" She gave him a charmingly rueful smile, all tousled golden curls like some angel who had rolled off a cloud in her sleep, he thought, and had fallen to earth with a thud. "Something like that," she said in vague amusement. "I see. Well, surely we can find a solution." He snapped his fingers and gave her a grin. "Shall I ruin you? That should solve your problem. The old wigsby won't want you if you're used goods, and I assure you, I'd be happy to oblige. — Gaelen Foley

I'm used to doing things my way, and Aidan is set in his medieval ways."
"What's medieval?" Joshua wanted to know.
"Ask Aidan. He's good with answers," she replied resentfully.
"Medieval refers to the days of knight and ladies, Joshua. Alexandria thinks I would have made a great knight. They were men who served their homeland with honor and always recued and took care of their fair maidens." Aidan drained the contents of a third glass of ruby liquid. "A fitting description, and quite a compliment. Thank you, Alexandria."
Stefan coughed behind his hand, and Marie hastily turned to look out the window.
Alexandria found a reluctant smile curving her soft mouth. "That's not all I could call you, but for now, we'll leave it at medieval. — Christine Feehan

Simon," she whispered, vaguely surprised that she had just used his first name, for she had never used it even in the privacy of her thoughts. Moistening her dry lips, she tried once more, and to her astonishment, she did it again. "Simon ... "
"Yes?" A new tension had entered his long, hard body, and at the same time, his hand moved over the shape of her skull in the softest caress possible.
"Please ... take me to my room."
Hunt tilted her head back gently and regarded her with a sudden faint smile playing on his lips. "Sweetheart, I would take you to Timbuktu if you asked. — Lisa Kleypas

The second the door closed after him Laire started jumping, a huge smile on her face and her body shaking in repressed excitement. "I'll go, I'll go, I'll go. You don't even like the Oracle. Let me."
Before the first words were out of Laire's mouth, Fallon started to shake her head, and as soon as the green-haired woman took a breath, Fallon used it as her opportunity to say, "No way."
"Please please please."
"Let me rephrase. No way in hell."
Laire stopped jumping, a small pout coming to her lips. How she had been able to prevent an ankle fracture while jumping on those spikes, Larissa would never know. "Why not?"
"Because if they have an orgy going on, you'll want to join. And if they don't have an orgy going on, you'll want to start one. I'll take Aislynn with me. — Danielle Monsch

Mr. Albert? Mr. Albert?" Harley said.
"Just Albert's fine," Albert said tersely.
"Me and Janice are thirsty."
"I'm sorry, but I don't have any water on me." He managed a tight smile and moved on. But now Janice was crying and Harley was pleading.
"We used to live with Mary and she gave us water. But now we have to live with Summer and BeeBee and they said we have to have money."
"Then I guess you'd better earn some money," Albert said. He tried to soften it, tried not to sound harsh, but he had a lot on his mind and it came out sounding mean. Now Harley started to cry, too.
"If you're thirsty, stop crying," Albert snapped. "What do you think tears are made of? — Michael Grant

You really pay attention to things, don't you?" "Just with people I care about," he said with a smile, "I think I get that from my mother. She was a really kind and giving person from what I remember, and she used to tell me, 'Don't just listen to people, hear them.' I never forgot that." "Wow," I responded, "That's so true. How many people really hear what we say? — Jackie Pilossoph

Her smile was glassy, and she was ransacking her mind for something to say, finding nothing in it but used Kleenex and costume jewelry. — Kurt Vonnegut

You don't have any brain damage. Any. Not even minimal. So now I have to believe in miracles, because you're a living, breathing, walking, talking miracle, and that means there's something else out there after all of this, isn't there?"
A luminous smile spread across her face. "Yes," she said simply.
'Then get used to it, sweetheart, because the miracle has a permanent bodyguard. — Linda Howard

I wasn't going to say anything about that, Tabitha," he said quietly. "I only wanted to tell you that your compassion for other people overwhelms me."
"Oh." She offered him a tenuous smile. "I'm just used to people condemning everything I do."
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "I don't condemn you, my lady. I only admire you. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

From this view, she could see how his light brown hair curled below his hat and over his collar. With a smile, she remembered the swashbuckling heroes in the forbidden novels she and Pamela used to read in secret. How they had swooned over those stories, their hearts beating rapidly in their not-yet-blossoming chests. Did Pamela ever remember those books when she looked at Nick? — Debra Holland

Amy sat back and grinned. "You just smiled." That was definitely something else she could get used to.
Of course, he frowned immediately. "I smile. — Cindy Gerard

Needle was Robb and Bran and Rickon, her mother and her father, even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell's grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan's stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow's smile. He used to mess my hair and call me "little sister," she remembered, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes. — George R R Martin

Is what how it is for me?" "Do you still know everything, all the time?" She shook her head. She didn't smile. She said, "Be boring, knowing everything. You have to give all that stuff up if you're going to muck about here." "So you used to know everything?" She wrinkled her nose. "Everybody did. I told you. It's nothing special, knowing how things work. And you really do have to give it all up if you want to play." "To play what?" "This, — Neil Gaiman

Because you are..." Her words faded. What was he? She still remembered his kiss and her gaze dropped to his lips. Their relationship had changed. He used to be a friend, someone who shared a past with her and her family. But now, he was more than that. Every time she saw him, her heart did a strange flutter. She shook herself. He was an opponent. She should view him as she did Blaise. But she couldn't. She didn't want to. She longed to confide in him. But it was so dangerous. "Brilliant?" he encouraged her to continue. "Wise beyond my years?" His smile was contagious. Jaclyn rolled her eyes and turned. "And here I was going to say a good kisser. — Laurel O'Donnell

Do I look like a commitment sort of girl to you?"
"You look like trouble," he grinned. "When I was growing up, my mother used to tell me to never trust a redhead."
I frowned. "There are only two reasons she'd say something like that." Caleb raised his eyebrows. "And they are?"
"Your father either slept with one, or she is one."
I buzzed under his crooked smile. It extended all the way to his eyes this time.
"I like you," he said.
"That's swell, Boy Scout. Real swell. — Tarryn Fisher