Quotes & Sayings About Smile Of A Boy

Adam expected Mayor Gusherowski to look like a fat-cat politico fresh off the graft train - soft build, ruddy complexion, practiced smile, maybe a pinkie ring - and in this particular case, Adam was not disappointed. Adam wondered whether Gusherowski had always looked like a poster boy for corrupt politicians or if, over his years of "service," it had just become part of his DNA. Three — Harlan Coben

There's always that one guy who gets a hold on you. Not like your best friend's brother who gets you in a headlock kind of hold. Or the little kid you're babysitting who attaches himself to your leg kind of hold.
I'm talking epic. Life changing. The "can't eat, can't sleep, can't do your homework, can't stop giggling, can't remember anything but his smile" kind of hold. Like, Wesley and Buttercup proportions. Harry and Sally. Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. The kind of hold in all your favorite '80s songs, like the "Must Have Been Love"s, the "Take My Breath Away"s, the "Eternal Flame"s - the ones you sing into a hairbrush-microphone at the top of your lungs with your best friends on a Saturday night. — Jess Rothenberg

He'd give anything to be out there playing instead of standing here watching. Trying to maintain this smile out of respect. He digs into his wrists some more with his nails. Breaks previously broken skin and pulls away. A smear of blood he wipes away with his other hand, rubs off across his dark jeans. Back home his mom is always on him to stop digging, but that only makes him want to dig more."
-exerpt from "Mexican White Boy — Matt De La Pena

Has anyone else ... "
"Hmm?" Grams walked the paper back across the room and took up her tray of hospital good again, settling it over me. "Has anyone else, what?:
"Been by," I mumbled. "To visit."
Grams gave me a knowing smile. "A charming young woman with a mouth that could give a sailor a heart attack? A sweet little one who brought you flowers? The one who spent half a day chasing doctors and nurses around, demanding answers about your condition? Or, by any chance are you referring to a very well - mannered Southern boy? — Alexandra Bracken

Hey, pal, Matthew whispered. He was the only person who could get away with calling Ronan pal. Matthew Lynch was a bear of a boy, square and solid and earnest. His head was covered with soft, golden curls completely unlike any of his other family members. And in his case, the perfect Lynch teeth were framed by an easy, dimpled smile. He had two brands of smile: the one that was preceded by a shy dip of his chin, a dimple, and then BAM, smile. And the one that teased for a moment before BAM, an infectious laugh. Females of all ages called him adorable. Males of all ages called him buddy. Matthew failed at many more things than either of his older brothers, but unlike Declan or Ronan, he always tried his hardest.
Ronan had dreamt one thousand nightmares about something happening to him. — Maggie Stiefvater

Why?" I demanded of her. "Why bring the child into this? Why not just come straight to me?"
"Does it matter at this point?"
I shrugged. "Not really. I'm curious."
She stared at me for a moment and then she smiled. "You don't know."
I eyed her warily. "Don't know what?"
"Dear boy," she said. "This was never about you."
I scowled. "I don't understand."
"Obviously," Arianna said, and gave me a stunning smile. "Die confused. — Jim Butcher

If you see Myrnin, tell him I said I want my slow cooker back."
"Your- You let him borrow something you put food in?"
Hannah's smile disappeared. "Why?"
"Um, never mind. I'll make sure it gets disinfected before you get it back. But don't lend anything to him again unless you can put it in some kind of sterilizer." That made even Hannah look nervous. "Thanks. Tell crazy boy I said hey." "I will" Claire promised. "Hey, if you don't mind me asking - when did he borrow it from you?"
"He just showed up at my door one night about a week ago, said, 'Hi, nice to meet you. Can I borrow your Crock-Pot?' Which I understand is pretty typical Myrnin. — Rachel Caine

Eva knows I'm terra incognita and explores me unhurriedly, like you did. Because she's lean as a boy. Because her scent is almonds, meadow grass. Because if I smile at her ambition to be an Egyptologist, she kicks my shin under the table. Because she makes me think about something other than myself. Because even when serious she shines. Because she prefers travelogues to Sir Walter Scott, prefers Billy Mayerl to Mozart, and couldn't tell a C major from a sergeant major. Because I, only I, see her smile a fraction before it reaches her face. Because Emperor Robert is not a good man - his best part is commandeered by his unperformed music - but she gives me that rarest smile, anyway. Because we listened to nightjars. Because her laughter spurts through a blowhole in the top of her head and sprays all over the morning. Because a man like me has no business with this substance "beauty," yet here she is, in these soundproof chambers of my heart. — David Mitchell

Fei, you know you can trust me. I'm here for you. I always have been and
always will be. Tell me what's wrong.
You can't keep rescuing me, I say.
Of course not, he agrees. You can rescue yourself - but perhaps I can give
you a hand now and then.
I smile faintly, but there is an ache in my chest as I think back to that longago
day, trapped in the rubble when a beautiful, glittering boy held out his hand
to pull me out. — Richelle Mead

Bah! Doesn't matter. Don't want him for our Ayah. She should marry within her kind, a good Chinese boy - "
Mari had to smile. Mr. Hsu rarely took to foreigners, and this was yet another proof of how easy it was for Ayah to worm her way into people's hearts. She was just so ... sweet. Even when she was also so freaking stubborn, she was just too sweet about it.
"You do remember she's American, right?" Mari teased.
"No," Mr. Hsu snapped, "I don't." He ended the call. — Marian Tee

You remind me of a boy I used to know
Same Smile, same easy, laid-back style
And man, could he kiss
Blew my mind the very first time
His lips touched mine.
You remind me

You remind me of a boy I used to like.
Same eyes, strong arms, same open mind
And man, could he dance
Arms around me, lost in a trance
I'd hear his heart
You remind me

I'm scared of you
How did you find me?
Turn and walk away
'Cause you remind me

You remind me of a boy I used to love
Same laughter and tears, shared through the years
And man, how he felt

Made my bones more than melt
He touched my soul.
You remind me

I'm scared of you
How did you find me?
Turn and walk away
'Cause you remind me — Malorie Blackman

Christopher felt a smile -his first genuine smile in a long time- pulling at his lips. "Does Miss Hathaway have many suitors?"
"Oh, yes. But none of them want to marry her."
"Why is that, do you imagine?"
"They don't want to get shot," the child said, shrugging.
"Pardon?" Christopher's brows lifted.
"Before you marry, you have to get shot by an arrow and fall in love," the boy explained. — Lisa Kleypas

But how can you be Peter Pan? You? The Boy Who Never Grew Up? That's not you. You have egg on your collar. You can't fly. You're not Alice. Alice was a blond little girl, I know it. You're lying to me.' And then they remember. What growing up really is: when they learned that boys can't fly and mermaids don't exist and White Rabbits don't talk and all boys grow old, even Peter Pan, as you've grown old. They've been deceived. As if you've somehow been lying to them. So following hard on the smile of remembrance is the pain in the eyes, which you've caused, everytime you meet someone. — John Logan

Before our "company" set off, at a wink from the officer, Plumpie stood up and proposed a search. I could see that some of the others thought she was wasting our time, but our company commander cheerfully seconded her proposal. He suggested we search him first. A boy was called to do this, and found a big bunch of keys on him. Our commander acted as though he had been genuinely careless, and gave Plumpie a victorious smile. The rest of us searched each other. This roundabout way of doing things reflected a Maoist practice: things had to look as though they were the wish of the people, rather than commands from above. Hypocrisy and playacting were taken for granted. — Jung Chang

These loaves, pigeons, and two little boys seemed unearthly. It all happened at the same time: a little boy ran over to a pigeon, glancing over at Levin with a smile; the pigeon flapped its wings and fluttered, gleaming in the sunshine among the snowdust quivering in the air, while the smell of freshly baked bread was wafted out of a little window as the loaves were put out. All this together was so extraordinarily wonderful that Levin burst out laughing and crying for joy. — Leo Tolstoy

Peace in every home, every street, every village, every country - this is my dream. Education for every boy and every girl in the world. To sit down on a chair and read my books with all my friends at school is my right. To see each and every human being with a smile of happiness is my wish. — Malala Yousafzai

He stared at me. "She liked you, boy." The intensity of his voice and eyes made me blink.
"Yes," I said.
"She did it for you, you know."
"What?"
"Gave up her self, for a while there. She loved you that much. What an incredibly lucky kid you were."
I could not look at him. "I know."
He shook his head with a wistful sadness. "No, you don't. You can't know yet. Maybe someday ... "
I knew he was tempted to say more. Probably to tell me how stupid I was, how cowardly, that I blew the best
chance I would ever have. But his smile returned, and his eyes were tender again, and nothing harsher
than cherry smoke came out of his mouth. — Jerry Spinelli

Personally of course I regret everything.
Not a word, not a deed, not a thought, not a need,
not a grief, not a joy, not a girl, not a boy,
not a doubt, not a trust, not a scorn, not a lust,
not a hope, not a fear, not a smile, not a tear,
not a name, not a face, no time, no place ... that I do not regret, exceedingly.
An ordure, from beginning to end. — Samuel Beckett

When you say fair, Samantha," said Mr Green through a peculiar smile, "do you mean one of those travelling fleets of vehicles that arrive and set up things like spinning Waltzers and Big Wheels and all manner of machines that whizz people around in circles and up and down and from side to side? Machines that could..." Mr Green turned away and his unnatural smile became even more unsettling... "easily go wrong! — Mark Gorton

I walk up a dune to a beach and look out to sea, but it's 100km away. The ships lie askew in their dry beds, at anchor for ever. Today is my son's birthday. Thousands of miles from here, his healthy lungs are blowing out candles. I should be there but I'm here with another boy, who puts his face close to mine and laughs. I smile back but realise he can't see it, because I'm wearing an antiseptic muzzles to protect me from his breath. — A.A. Gill

His eyes were more intense, the gaze more intimate. He put just the last inch or so of the fingers of both hands on the table to either side of his plate and said, Love makes them run. That is not my lineage, my idea. That is a fact just like when water gets cold it ices. Like that. Some people cannot see this is a fact, but this is. They are blind in different ways but this is a fact: Love makes the atoms go where they go and stick where they stick. Everybody when they see a baby, a small boy or girl, they smile? Why? Because inside themself they know this fact. They know love made this baby, this boy, this girl. They feel this natural rising up of love in themself. Okay, yes? Before, I said to you about God's music that is playing all the time, for everyone. God's music is this love. And this love that runs our world, sometimes it means that there is help coming from that love, from that ... source you would — Roland Merullo

Who are you anyway? What are you even doing here?"
"Haven," she said quietly, peeking at him.
He gazed at her peculiarly. "Heaven? No, this definitely isn't Heaven. But I get why you're confused, since I'm standing in front of you." She stared at him, and he
cracked a smile. "I'm kidding. Well, kinda ... I have been told I've taken a girl to Heaven a time or two."
"Haven, not Heaven," she said, louder than before. Nothing about the conversation made sense to her. "My name's Haven. — J.M. Darhower

He sang "I wish I weren't me" over and over again just flat of the key of love until he forgot the words and could only hum along. Everyday was the same. The same stupid smile on the same stupid boy. Until the days blurred into a haze and the boy dropped into a depression. Not a cool dark room and cigarette depression like the songs he loved, but one that felt like he was being smothered by a safe, suburban, monotonous blanket. Everything felt like a headache to the boy. Every face, every stupid stuttered sentence all wrapped up into the biggest headache ever. So the boy took an aspirin. And another and another and then went to sleep, lullabyed by hopes he would never wake up to. — Pete Wentz

I want to retain my own identity. Therefore the thing I'm most anxious to avoid is any kind of work that can be considered 'interesting' in its own right. I want something that can't possibly touch me. I want some big, swollen corporation that's been bumbling along making money in its sleep for a hundred years, where they have to hire eight guys for every one job because none of them can be expected to care about whatever boring thing it is that they are supposed to be doing. I want to go into that kind of place and say, Look. You can have my body and my nice college-boy smile for so many hours a day, in exchange for so many dollars, and beyond that we'll leave each other strictly alone. — Richard Yates

Have you also learned that secret for the river; that there is no such thing as time?" A bright smile spread over Vasudeva's face. "Yes, Siddhartha. Is this what you mean? That the river is everywhere at the same time, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the current, in the ocean and in the mountains, everywhere, and that the present only exists for it, not the shadow of the past, nor the shadow of the future?" "That is it," said Siddhartha, "and when I learned that, I reviewed my life and it was also a river, and Siddhartha the boy, Siddhartha the mature man and Siddhartha the old man, were only separated by shadows, not through reality." He spoke with delight, but Vasudeva just smiled radiantly at him and nodded his agreement. — Deepak Chopra

Discouraged?
As I was driving home from work one day, I stopped to watch a local Little League baseball game that was being played in a park near my home. As I sat down behind the bench on the first-baseline, I asked one of the boys what the score was.
"We're behind 14 to nothing," he answered with a smile.
"Really," I said. "I have to say you don't look very discouraged."
"Discouraged?" the boy asked with a puzzled look on his face. "Why should we be discouraged? We haven't been up to bat yet. — Jack Canfield

Hey, Megan?"
She peeked one lid open. "Hmm?"
"Can we have ice cream for breakfast?"
Her mouth curved into a grin. She couldn't think of anyone, save maybe Kate, who could draw a smile from her so quickly. But he was just unexpectedly adorable. "Maybe. If you're a good boy." She cringed. Why the hell did she say that? Was she ... flirting with him? Restraining a grimace, she chanced a look at him.
His dark gaze shifted from playful to scorching. "And what would that entail?"
Heat shot through her body, and unfamiliar desire pooled in her belly. Flustered, she kicked off the top cover. "Not asking questions like that, to start. Now go back to sleep. It's too damn early to be awake."
She heaved a deep breath to calm her racing heart .
"if you say so." Even with his eyes closed, a smile continued to play around his lips. — Laura Kaye

Magic," he said. Black magic. Strong magic. Dead magic. "Bad magic." Finally, Lila slipped. For the briefest moment, her eyes flicked to a chest along the wall. Kell didn't hesitate. He lunged for the top drawer, but before his fingers met the wood, a knife found his throat. It had come out of nowhere. A pocket. A sleeve. A thin blade resting just below his chin. Lila's smile was as sharp as its metal edge. "Sit down before you fall down, magic boy." Lila — V.E Schwab

The clerk is looking at me. His expression hasn't changed. What I want to do is punch a hole in the front of the desk, reach through, grab his balls, and make him sing The Mickey Mouse Club song. But these days, I'm working on the theory that killing everyone I don't like might be counterproductive. I'm learning to use my indoor voice like a big boy, so I smile back at the clerk. — Richard Kadrey

One day, you're in a physical landscape you share with this bizarre and fundamentally alien creature, not alien because she's female but alien because you're a fool in love and there's nothing not alien about that. And then when she's gone, you're alone and all the strangeness and wonder have gone out of the landscape and you're still a fool but now nobody notices how many days in a row you wear the same socks and cleaning the shower doesn't make the girl smile anymore so everything smells a little worse and doesn't get fixed when it breaks. I missed the feminine touch - not just hers, but mine. I missed being half-boy, half-girl, part of a whole. Now that I was male in a male environment, it was harder to manifest her physical chick presence, no matter how many of her MAC lipsticks I set out on the coffee table in a basket like so many M&Ms. — Rob Sheffield

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

You are my whole heart, Scarlet. And this is breaking it.'
My heart cracked open and clear dropped out of me. My mouth opened, and I looked round me and stamped my foot. 'Does this look like a good time to tell me that, you damn stupid boy?' I meant to sound mean but my voice wobbled. 'Now?'
He gave a little smile. 'My foul-mouthed warrior. — A.C. Gaughen

only had eyes for Hayden, who was wearing her blond hair pinned up in elaborate braids. In her light blue summer dress, she looked as fresh and alluring as apple pie. Even as a boy, he could have stared at her for hours when she did her hair in such a beautifully girlish fashion. And as a young man, after he'd discovered the joy of exploring the soft skin of his girlfriend, he could never look away from her pretty face when she offered him a smile. Even now, he couldn't think of anything he'd rather do than scrutinize her soft curves under that dress, to trace her delicate features with his gaze and stare into her sky-blue eyes. But that was no longer possible. He — Poppy J. Anderson

She leaned forward, looking utterly inhuman, and I fought the urge to run screaming from the throne room. "I have heard of your exploits, Meghan Chase, " the queen rasped, narrowing her eyes. "Did you not think I would find out? You tricked a prince of the Unseelie Court into following you into the Iron Realm. You made him fight your enemies for you. You bound him to a contract that nearly killed him. My precious boy, almost lost to me forever, because of you. How do you think that makes me feel?" Mab's smile grew more predatory, as my stomach twisted in fear. — Julie Kagawa

Riley paused, turning back to face Jack. "Just so you know, we are gonna need some definite PDAs tonight.
Think you can handle that?" There was irritation in Riley's voice, a subtle change, a certain stress. Jack imagined it was a manifestation of fear, and it made him feel better to think that. In answer Jack moved carefully past Riley, sliding a hand over the younger man's black silk shirt, his fingers brushing Riley's left nipple. He heard a hiss of indrawn breath as his hard thigh touched Riley briefly.
"I can handle anything you need, Het-boy," he said, his voice low and growled. "Just follow my cues."
Riley followed him to the top of the stairs, and Jack held out his hand. "Husband?" he smirked.
Riley took his hand, and they started down the sweeping staircase. "Fuck you, asshole," Riley forced out behind a covering smile.
"Not if I fuck you first," Jack said, fast and clear, smirking again as Riley stumbled on the next step. — R.J. Scott

Talk. We are going to talk first. I want to see you smile and laugh. I want to know what your favorite show was when you were a kid and who made you cry at school and what boy band you hung posters of on your wall. Then I want you naked in my bed again. — Abbi Glines

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

What's your name again?"
"Peter. Peter Granford."
Lewis opened up his mouth to speak, but then just shook his head.
"What?" The boy ducked his head. "You just, uh, looked like you were going to say something
important."
Lewis looked at this namesake, at the way he stood with his shoulders rounded, as if he did not
deserve so much space in this world. He felt that familiar pain that fell like a hammer on his
breastbone whenever he thought of Peter, of a life that would be lost to prison. He wished he'd
taken more time to look at Peter when Peter was right in front of his eyes, because now he would be
forced to compensate with imperfect memories or-even worse-to find his son in the faces of
strangers.
Lewis reached deep inside and unraveled the smile that he saved for moments like this, when there
was absolutely nothing to be happy about. "It was important," he said. "You remind me of someone
I used to know. — Jodi Picoult

I stare into the green eyes of the boy who has helped me realize that I don't need separate lives but, rather, should find a boy who fits comfortably into them all. I run the back of my hand down the scruff on his sweet face. "I love you, Aiden." Never in my life will I forget the way he looks in this moment. The surprise in his eyes. The emotions crossing his face. His lips forming a smile. His big hands holding my cheeks firmly in place as he looks into my eyes and says, "I love you too, Boots. — Jillian Dodd

Woah,' I said, blocking the doorway. 'You can't come in here. This is the girls' room.'
Even as it came out of my mouth, I knew it sounded dumb. Dumb, I thought and maybe even wrong.
You ... are a boy, aren't you?' I asked. 'I mean, don't take that the wrong way or anything -'
J.Lo is a boy, yes.' I let that go.
So ... you Boov have boys and girls ... just like us?'
Of course,' said J.Lo. 'Do not be ridicumlous.'
I smiled a wan little smile. 'Sorry.'
The Boov have seven magnificent genders. There is boy, girl, girlboy, boygirl, boyboy, boyboygirl, and boyboyboyboy.'
I had absolutely no response to this. — Adam Rex

Bedroom. "And, please, stay away from Venable, Jock. Don't let him talk you into doing anything like this again." He didn't answer, and she glanced back over her shoulder. He smiled, that beautiful, gentle smile that had first drawn her to him when he was a boy scarcely out of his teens. "Things aren't good for you, Jane. I have to make them better." She shook her head helplessly. In his way, he was an implacable force on the same scale as MacDuff. "Good night." She closed the bedroom door — Iris Johansen

Louie's mother, Louise, took a different tack. Louie was a copy of herself, right down to the vivid blue eyes. When pushed, she shoved; sold a bad cut of meat, she'd march down to the butcher, frying pan in hand. Loving mischief, she spread icing over a cardboard box and presented it as a birthday cake to a neighbor, who promptly got the knife stuck. When Pete told her he'd drink his castor oil if she gave him an empty candy box. "You only asked for the box, honey," she said with a smile. "That's all I got." And she understood Louie's restiveness. One Halloween, she dressed as a boy and raced around town trick-or-treating with Louie and Pete. A gang of kids, thinking she was one of the local toughs, tackled her and tried to steal her pants. Little Louise Zamperini, mother of four, was deep in the melee when the cops picked her up for brawling. — Laura Hillenbrand

She learned a lot and some of the things she learned were hard to accept. She was made to realize once and for all that this earth on which they lived turning about in space did not revolve, as she had believed, for the sake of little people. "Nor for big people either," she reminded the boy when she saw his secret smile. — Mary Norton

The drawings make you smile," he replied with a grin. "Working on the speech doesn't do anything."
That...that was so sweet, I wanted to hug him tight, kiss him, too. "Working on your speech will make me smile, too."
His brows lifted and then he flipped his notebook closed. "I know what else will make you smile."
"What? You actually doing some homework?"
"Nope." He glanced at the door again and then rose. "I think me sitting closer to you will make you smile."
The boy knew me well.
He took a step closer. "I think holding your hand will make you smile."
I straightened as I watched him.
"And I think..." He sat on the edge of the bed and twisted his body toward mine. "I think kissing you will make you smile, too. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Now it was Arla's turn for astonishment. The Boy gave Perry a wide smile as he shook his hand. "You know the land you say? Up along the promontory? Good. Well, perhaps we should take you along. Do you have a horse?"
"No" Perry replied. "But I can ride."
"Arla is quite slight," the Boy said. "Perhaps she can ride the packhorse with our gear."
Arla gave a strangled gasp, and the Boy grinned at her. She realised he was joking, and breathed a sigh of relief. But she did not trust herself to speak. What did Branguin think he was doing? — J.J. Gadd

Just out of curiosity, what were the boy names?" Grace hedges, clearly fighting a smile. He cheers up again. "Well, the top contender was Garrett." I snicker loud enough to rattle Sabrina's water glass. "Uh-huh," I say, playing along. "And what was the runner-up?" "Graham. — Elle Kennedy

Cute? You think he's cute? What's cute about him?
...
Well, yes. He's got that smile, that really bad boy smile, and a great backside.
On page eighty of the relationship manual, it clearly states, you cannot look at another man's backside, especially if you think it's great. — Christine Feehan

He opened the back. "Well, at leas let me carry them to the door." "Okay." I walked with him to the doorway and took the bags from him, and then I reached in and took out the gum. I didn't know what to say, so I handed it to him and his face lit up. A smile I remembered from the photos of him as a little boy appeared on his face. It wasn't a smile the world ever caught a glimpse of in magazines. "I take it I was good. — Abbi Glines

When I spot Alex leaning on his motorcycle waiting for me in the parking lot, my pulse skips a beat.
Oh, boy. I'm in trouble.
Gone is his ever-present bandanna. Alex's thick black hair rests on his forehead, daring to be swept back. Black pants and a black silk shirt have replaced his jeans and T-shirt. He looks like a young Mexican daredevil. I can't help but smile as I park next to him.
"Querida, you look like you've got a secret."
I do, I think as I step out of my car. You. — Simone Elkeles

Your mother brought a strange man to this house once, Katarina. I had hoped it might be a few years before history repeated itself."
Kat rolled her eyes at the mention of her father. "Uncle Eddie, I brought Hale home ages ago," she reminded him; but her uncle just shook his head.
"I've known my great-niece's friend. A boyfriend, on the other hand ... that is a most different matter."
"Yes, sir," Hale said. He stood up a little straighter, spoke a little louder.
"You have a powerful family, boy."
"Yes, sir," Hale said. "Please don't hold them against me."
Then Eddie gave a wry smile. "Who says I was talking about them? — Ally Carter

Go." Granmare pointed at the door. "Let me work in peace."
Balthazar didn't look back when he left.
"Now, my dear," the witch turned to her, "let me give you what that foolish boy paid for."
"He's not foolish," Arianne said. For giving a drop of his blood, the least she could do was defend the annoying oaf. "He's going out of his way to help me, so if there's anyone foolish here it's me."
"My, my, my." Granmare Baba gasped, spreading her hand at the center of her chest. "You have a mouth on you. I will so enjoy watching what happens to you when the time comes."
A chill went down Arianne's back. She'd almost been afraid to ask, "What do you mean?"
Granmare Baba only smiled her yellow toothy smile before she went about putting things together in a large cauldron that seemed to have magically appeared in the center of the round room. — Kate Evangelista

I could see her smile. I wished I hadn't because it was the kind of smile she never gave to me. It was a smile for a boy who wanted to know her and never would. A smile for a girl who wanted to be like her and never could be. A smile for a perfect stranger. — Nova Ren Suma

All the dying that summer began with the death of a child, a boy with golden hair and thick glasses, killed on the railroad tracks outside New Bremen, Minnesota, sliced into pieces by a thousand tons of steel speeding across the prairie toward South Dakota. His name was Bobby Cole. He was a sweet-looking kid and by that I mean he had eyes that seemed full of dreaming and he wore a half smile as if he was just about to understand something you'd spent an hour trying to explain. I should have known him better, been a better friend. He lived not far from my house and we were the same age. But he was two years behind me in school and might have been held back even more except for the kindness of certain teachers. He was a small kid, a simple child, no match at all for the diesel-fed drive of a Union Pacific locomotive. It — William Kent Krueger

But I did not bring the Wild Boy to England simply so he could learn from us. I also brought him here so we could learn from him; so we can remember what it means to be young- to be innocent. You are still young now, but there will come a time when you will be grown-up, and it is easy, so easy, to forget how precious, how dear, life is. Then you forget to smile, to laugh, to cry, to dream. I hope knowing Peter will help you to hold on fiercely to your own innocence, to live joyfully, even in the midst of difficult times. — Christopher Daniel Mechling

The barking of the dogs was getting louder, closer once more. Jesse's finger curled
around the trigger. He tried to still his mind from all thoughts. But the image of Miss
Althea lingered.
Sweet-smelling Miss Althea with her warm smile and her so very round parts. She never looked at him mean or like she was afraid. She looked at him loving, warm and loving, like she looked at the boy. She looked at Jesse that way. And he liked it. He really liked it. But he wanted it different, too. He was not a boy. Jesse was a man. He wanted Miss Althea to see that. He wanted to put meat on her table. That's what men do for the women they love. — Pamela Morsi

God is a God of galaxies, of storms, of roaring seas and boiling thunder, but He is also the God of bread baking, of a child's smile, of dust motes in the sun. He is who He is, and always shall be. Look around you now. He is speaking always and everywhere. His personality can be seen and known and leaned upon. The sun is belching flares while mountains scrape our sky while ants are milking aphids on their colonial leaves and dolphins are laughing in the surf and wheat is rippling and wind is whipping and a boy is looking into the eyes of a girl and mortals are dying. — N.D. Wilson

What do you want of God, Roman?" It was an imperious question from so small a boy, and was said with a curious blend of humility and demand. "I'll know when I face him." "Perhaps the answers you seek can't be found in something you can see and touch." Amused, Marcus smiled. "You have big thoughts for a small boy." The boy grinned. "A shepherd has time to think." "Then, my little philosopher, what would you advise?" The boy's smile faded. "When you face God, remember he is God." "I'll remember what he's done," Marcus said coldly. "That, too," the boy said almost gently. — Francine Rivers

Grass Fires"
No ease for the boy at his keyhole,
his telescope,
when the women's white bodies flashed
in the bathroom. Young, my eyes began to fail.
In the grandiloquent lettering on Mother's coffin
Lowell had been misspelled LOVEL
The corpse
was wrapped like panetone in Italian tinfoil
Father's death was abrupt and unprotesting.
His vision was still twenty-twenty.
After a morning of anxious, repetitive smiling,
his last words to Mother were:
"I feel awful."
He smiled his oval Lowell smile ...
It has taken me the time since you died
to discover you are as human as I am ...
If I am. — Robert Lowell

You go to Hawaii alone, buy the way?"
"Who goes to Hawaii alone? I went with a girl. She's only thirteen, though."
"You slept with a thirteen-year-old girl?"
"What Do you think I am? The kid doesn't even wear a bra yet."
"Then why'd you go with her?"
"To teach her table manners, interpret the mysteries of the sex-drive, bad-mouth Boy George, go see E.T. You know, the usual."
"Gotanda gave me a long look. Then he skewed his lips into a smile. "You really are a little odd, you know?"
Now everyone seemed to think so. Motion passed by unanimous vote. — Haruki Murakami

Well," Puck said cheerfully, forcing a rather pained smile, "it's just like old times, isn't it? You, me, ice-boy, the future of the Nevernever hanging in the balance ... we just have to wait for Furball to show up and then it'll be perfect." "He is already here, Goodfellow," came a familiar voice behind us, sounding bored and offended all at once. "Where he has been for much of the conversation, waiting for you to see past the end of your nose." "Yep." Puck sighed as we all turned to face Grimalkin. "Just like old times. — Julie Kagawa

Somewhere in the city, an orange cat finished chewing on a marjoram plant next to his studio apartment's door and leapt purring onto the shoulder of his owner, home early from work. Somewhere in the city, a young Chinese pianist sat down at a rehearsal hall and let his fingers play the first opening notes of the Emperor Concerto, notes that would envelop the small girl in row D of the Philharmonic that night in a shimmering cloud. A boy in Staten Island touched his finger to the lower back of the girl who had been just a friend until then. A woman in Hell's Kitchen stood in her dark attic garret, her paintbrush in hand, and stepped back from the painting of chartreuse highway and forest-green sky that had taken her two years to complete. A clerk in a Brooklyn bodega tapped her crimson fingernail on a box of gripe water, reassuring the new mother holding a wailing baby, and the mother's grateful smile almost made both of them cry themselves. — Stephanie Clifford

I reach across my bed, half expecting to be greeted by Blake's green eyes and warm smile, but grab only folds of comforter. I am alone. The realization is met with the same ache I've felt since leaving Blake. It isn't disappointment exactly. It's more visceral than that. I don't want to be one of those girls who think they're in love with a boy just because they hooked up. So there. I am not in love with Blake Willliams.
I just miss him is all. — Talia Vance

Please do not go to Kmart and buy twenty pairs of jeans because each costs five dollars. The jeans are not running away. They will be there tomorrow at an even more reduced price. You are now in America: do not expect to have hot food for lunch. That African taste must be abolished. When you visit the home of an American with some money, they will offer to show you their house. Forget that in your house back home, your father would throw a fit if anyone came close to his bedroom. We all know that the living room was where it stopped and, if absolutely necessary, then the toilet. But please smile and follow the American and see the house and make sure you say you like everything. And do not be shocked by the indiscriminate touching of American couples. Standing in line at the cafeteria, the girl will touch the boy's arm and the boy will put his arm around her shoulder and they will rub shoulders and back and rub rub rub, but please do not imitate this behavior. — Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

He's Excited. Like a small boy, he's iridescent with anticipation and excitement. It makes me smile. — E.L. James

I don't go after him. He's a funny sort of boy. I've known that from the start. Not just because he seems angry and contemptuous or the way he walks like a tough guy. Because of his smile - it's a child's smile. — Delphine De Vigan

Never mind that to me, the face of Afghanistan is that of a boy with a thin-boned frame, a shaved head, and low-set ears, a boy with a Chinese doll face perpetually lit by a harelipped smile. Never mind any of those things. Because history isn't easy to overcome. Neither is religion. In the end, I was a Pashtun and he was a Hazara, I was Sunni and he was Shi'a, and nothing was ever going to change that. Nothing. — Khaled Hosseini

I have one quote I very often read to myself, from a very good friend: 'Forget the people around you now; remember the little boy who was racing in go-karts, what you were dreaming of and what he wanted to achieve one day and what was his goal. Race for him.'. I fell in love with the sport, I love racing. The amount of satisfaction I get just going around in a Formula 1 car makes me smile. So if it is a bad day then you tend to come out and say it's horrible and you don't enjoy. But if you had to pick between that and doing nothing, you would always pick that. — Sebastian Vettel

He takes a deep breath and gives me one of those smiles that almost blinds me. The kind of smile that makes me want to drag him to a little chapel in the woods, say I do, and make him the last boy I ever kiss. — Jillian Dodd

There was a small boy on crutches. I do not know his name, and I suspect I never will. But I will never forget his face, his smile, his sorrow. He is one of the millions robbed of hope and dignity by charlatans discussed in this book. Wherever and whoever he is, I apologize to him for not having been able to protect him from such an experience. I humbly dedicate this book to him and to the many others who have suffered because the rest of us began caring too late. — James Randi

When I entered and shut the door, the Darkling gave me a small bow. "How are you, Alina?"
"I'm fine," I managed.
"She's fine!" hooted Baghra. "She's fine! She cannot light a hallway, but she's fine."
I winced and wished I could disappear into my boots.
To my surprise, the Darkling said, "Leave her be."
Baghra's eyes narrowed. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
The Darkling sighed and ran his hands through his dark hair in exasperation. When he looked at me, there was a rueful smile on his lips, and his hair was going every which way. "Baghra has her own way of doing things," he said.
"Don't patronize me, boy!" Her voice cracked out like a whip. To my amazement, I saw the Darkling stand up straighter and then scowl as if he'd caught himself.
"Don't chide me, old woman," he said in a low, dangerous voice. — Leigh Bardugo

What did this portend? He still breathed, the instruments did not change, his heart beat on. But he called to Peter. Did this mean that he longed to live the life of his child of the mind, Young Peter? Or in some kind of delirium was he speaking to his brother the Hegemon? Or earlier, his brother as a boy. Peter, wait for me. Peter, did I do well? Peter, don't hurt me. Peter, I hate you. Peter for one smile of yours I'd die or kill. What was his message? — Orson Scott Card

A German merchant of the fifteenth century asked an eminent professor where he should send his son for a good business education. The professor responded that German universities would be sufficient to teach the boy addition and subtraction but he would have to go to Italy to learn multiplication and division. Before you smile indulgently, try multiplying or even just adding the Roman numerals CCLXIV, MDCCCIX, DCL, and MLXXXI without first translating them. — John Allen Paulos

You can love someone, hell, you can love a lot of someones, but when you find the right person--the one that you're meant to be with--it's like..." "You can breathe for the first time," she finishes for me. "Yes." I cant help but smile.I needed to find that to understand." And you have," She says softly."Lucy." "Lucy," I agree. — Cheryl McIntyre

Now you're just being selfish," Dominic said to Jaime, shaking his head. "You have that body for the rest of your life. I only want it for one night."
Not in the mood to hear his packmate making moves - no matter how playful - on the female he intended to claim, Dante growled. "Dominic, no. Not to Jaime."
"But - "
"No."
Dominic sighed in resignation. "Okay, fine."
Noticing that Trey seemed to find the whole thing extremely amusing, Dante raised a brow at him. "It's funny now that he's not saying this shit to Taryn?"
Trey smiled. "Of course."
"I've always got some stored up for my gorgeous Alpha female," said Dominic with an impish grin.
Instantly Trey's smile fell from his face. "Dom, don't do it."
Dominic held his hands up, pleading innocence. "I was just going to ask her if she went to Boy Scouts ... because she has my heart all tied in knots."
Taryn groaned and chuckled at the same time. — Suzanne Wright

After I finished, there was quite a long period of silence as I watched a smile spread all the way across Augustus's face - not the little crooked smile of the boy trying to be sexy while he stared at me, but his real smile, too big for his face. "Goddamn," Augustus said quietly. "Aren't you something else. — John Green

THE MYTH OF THE GOOD OL BOY AND THE NICE GAL
The good of boy myth and the nice gal are a kind of social conformity myth. They create a real paradox when put together with the "rugged individual" part of the Success Myth. How can I be a rugged individual, be my own man and conform at the same time? Conforming means "Don't make a wave", "Don't rock the boat". Be a nice gal or a good ol' boy. This means that we have to pretend a lot.
"We are taught to be nice and polite. We are taught that these behaviors (most often lies) are better than telling the truth. Our churches, schools, and politics are rampant with teaching dishonesty (saying things we don't mean and pretending to feel ways we don't feel). We smile when we feel sad; laugh nervously when dealing with grief; laugh at jokes we don't think are funny; tell people things to be polite that we surely don't mean."
- Bradshaw On: The Family — John Bradshaw

The few things I'd sacrificed, or put on hold, to be with my husband and
baby were worth it. That broken boy on the beach seemed like a lifetime ago. Years had passed, college and the NFL, marriage and a baby, but every once in a while, when Jude looked over at me and gave me that slow, knowing smile of his, I was that girl in a black string bikini all over again, longing for a boy I never thought could be mine. — Nicole Williams

What a child does not know and does not want to know of race and colour and class, he learns soon enough as he grows to see each man flipped inexorably into some predestined groove like a penny or a sovereign in a banker's rack. Kibii, the Nandi boy, was my good friend. Arab Ruta (the same boy grown to manhood), who sits before me, is my good friend, but the handclasp will be shorter, the smile will not be so eager on his lips, and though the path is for a while the same, he will walk behind me now, when once, in the simplicity of our nonage, we walked together. — Beryl Markham

Who ordered the legs?"
My eyes widened at the way Kyle Hamilton's eyes roamed up and down my entire body. The smile on his face did something to the pit of my stomach. I knew the skirt looked good, but I still couldn't believe a guy like him was looking at me like that. Our eyes locked and his smile turned cocky when my disbelief registered with him.
"Hi beautiful. — Kelly Oram

Pet him." He thrusts the thing at me. I jump back. It's a rat. The hairless tail flicks around like a snake. "When my winning personality fails me and tech toys don't tantalize, I find small furry rodents to be reliable chick magnets." My eyes raise to his face. He's so weird. So . . . His tender smile at the rat is kind of sweet. "Rattus norvegicus." The boy releases the rat onto his shoulder. The tail wraps around his neck and I wince, like there's a rope around mine. "Commonly known as the brown rat or fancy rat. Not because he's decked out in finery, but it seems some people fancy rats." He shoots that wide-open grin at me. — Julie Anne Peters

At my parents' house, I recently found a 1950 black-and-white snapshot of a chubby bespectacled warrior holding a three-and-a-half-foot freshly killed rattlesnake. The boy's smile is ecstatic. — Martin E.P. Seligman

And once again in my new world full of heartache and lies, this hopeless boy somehow finds a way to make me smile. — Colleen Hoover

The pair stood watching each other, still as statues, moments ticking by like hours as the gale howled about them.
"You have very good ears, sir." she finally said.
"You have better feet, Pale Daughter. I heard nothing."
"Then how?"
The boy offered a dimpled smile. "You stink of cigarillo smoke. Cloves, I think."
"That's impossible. I'm upwind from you."
The boy glanced at the shadows moving like snakes around his feet.
"Seems to be raining impossible in these parts. — Jay Kristoff

What is this, Enki?" says the Queen. "Do you not honor me?"
Enki's smile is wide and bright. "I give you the greatest honor," he says.
"You are dressed in the manner of a slave," says she, "in a city where there are none."
"There aren't," he agrees, though now his smile seems too sharp for his words. "But there is the verde."
"And what of it?"
"I am dressed in the manner of my people."
"Are we not your people?" And we see that the Queen is torn between amusement and anger. Enki is leading her in a dance, but has not tapped out its rhythm.
"You are everything to me."
"And yet you come before us hardly as a king."
"I come before you," says Enki, "as a simple verde boy." He takes a quick step back, almost skipping, and his dust-lightened hair bobs around his ears. "I will leave you as a king." And when the drums start, that's how he dances: as a king. — Alaya Dawn Johnson

I hear Warner laugh.
I see him smile.
It's the kind of smile that transforms him into someone else entirely, the kind of smile that puts stars in his eyes and a dazzle on his lips and I realize I've never seen him like this before. I've never seen his teeth
so straight, so white, nothing less than perfect. A flawless, flawless exterior for a boy with a black, black heart. It's hard to believe there's blood on the hands of the person I'm staring at. He looks soft and vulnerable
so human. His eyes are squinting from all his grinning and his cheeks are pink form the cold.
He has dimples.
He's easily the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
And I wish I'd never seen it. — Tahereh Mafi

Like Raphael's Seven," Izak continued, aching hope in his expression. "You're a consort. Elijah's consort has a Guard." Elena didn't know what she would do with a Guard, but saying no to this fragile, broken, hopeful boy was out of the question. "Consider yourself the first member." His smile lit up the whole room. — Nalini Singh

Well. Well?
What are you going to do? What are you going to say?
What are you going to say when you're drowning in your own dung and they keep booting you back into it, when all the screams in hell wouldn't be as loud as you want to scream, when you're at the bottom of the pit and the whole world's at the top, when it has but one face, a face without eyes or ears, and yet it watches and listens ... .
What are you going to do and say? Why, pardner, that's simple. It's easy as nailing your balls to a stump and falling off backwards. Snow again, pardner, and drift me hard, because that's an easy one.
You're gonna say, they can't keep a good man down. You're gonna say, a winner never quits and a quitter never wins. You're gonna smile, boy, you're gonna show 'em the ol' fightin' smile. And then you're gonna get out there an' hit 'em hard and fast and low, an' - an' Fight! — Jim Thompson

Reiko deepened the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and looked at me for a time. "You've got this funny way of talking," she said. "Don't tell me you're trying to imitate that boy in Catcher in the Rye?" "No way!" I said with a smile. Reiko smiled too, cigarette in mouth. "You are a good person, though. I can tell that much from looking at you. I can tell these things after seven years of watching people come and go here: there are people who can open their hearts and people who can't. You're one of the ones who can. Or, more precisely, you can if you want to. — Haruki Murakami

Halfway through the meal, while we were all laughing and telling stories, I made the mistake of placing my hand on Kaidan's upper thigh without thinking.
He let out a groan loud enough to silence the room. I slipped my hand back into my own lap, and Kaidan cleared his throat.
"Wow," he said. "The corn pudding is fantastic."
I snorted, which started a round of snickers. Patti smiled at Kaidan like he was a precious boy.
"Isn't it good? Anna found the recipe a few years ago. She's a great cook."
"Mm-hm." Kaidan gave a tight-lipped smile. "That she is. — Wendy Higgins

Little boy and little girl.I don't know how old. Sweetest family in the world, of you listen to the old folks around here." Xander was stunned. "And nobody knows what happened to them?"
"Some say they high-tailed it to Europe." She raised her eyebrows at him. "Most believe he took them somewhere and killed them. Then took his own life."
Dad forced a smile. "Just old rumors," he said. — Robert Liparulo

Its powers?' Dallben answered with a sad smile. 'My dear boy, this is a bit of metal hammered into a rather unattractive shape; it could better have been a pruning hook or a plow iron. Its powers? Like all weapons, only those held by him who wields it. What yours may be, I can in no wise say. — Lloyd Alexander

I have a penis," Josh announced out of the blue, pointing down into the water.

"That's because you're a boy," I explained sagely.

"Does Uncle Adam have a penis?"

"Oh yeah," I said with a smile. Adam looked up at me and tried not to laugh.

"Does Elmo have a penis?"

"Uh, well..." He had stumped me. — N.M. Silber

What? Do you dare smile and suggest for a moment that just because of the Absence between us I cannot make myself vivid to you? Ho! Silly boy! Don't you know that the plainest sort of black ink throbs more than some blood - and the touch of the softest hand is a harsh caress compared to the touch of a reasonably shrewd pen? Here - now, I say - this very moment: Lift this letter of mine to your face, and swear - if you're honestly able to - that you can't smell the rose in my hair! — Eleanor Hallowell Abbott

I just want to spend the rest of today and tonight with the only girl who makes my heart race."
And that was exactly what Trinity did. She calmed me and excited me all at once. I was a tattooed, buzzed haircut, cop who gave off a badass cocky feel, but inside, this woman made me feel like a lost boy seeking the security only she could give. It was still so unbelievable how one smile or a simple touch from her could make me feel whole.
"Yes," she whispered. "You should definitely spend the night with me."
She tossed me a mischievous smile and I couldn't help but feel relief that my fiery girl had returned. — C.A. Harms

Sawyer reached out and twirled a strand of my hair around his finger. "Even if I was wrong to take you without a thought to Beau's feelings, I can't make myself regret it. I've had three amazing years with you, Ash."
I didn't know what to say. I'd had good times too but I did regret choosing the wrong Vincent boy. He gave me one last sad smile then dropped my hair and walked away. — Abbi Glines

I thought you were from a civilized country," he said. "How have you come to look more like Carthya's whipping boy than its king?"
"I have a habit of irritating some of our less civilized people," I answered. "But you seem like a civilized ... pirate. I'd much prefer it if you didn't have me whipped."
"And why shouldn't I?"
With some effort, I forced a smile to my face. "Because it will hurt. — Jennifer A. Nielsen

I just figured something out. The difference in each of they're smiles. Ian has that boyish sweet smile that says I'm dangerous, but good. Pike's smile says I'm all bad boy but I want to show you I can be good. And Kin is all devil smile with a hint of secret ambition behind every lip curve. Jane Austen doesn't know everything! — Cyndi Goodgame

I know everything, you see,' the old voice wheedled. 'The beginning, the present, the end. Everything. You now, you see the past and the present, like other low creatures: no higher faculties than memory and perception. But dragons, my boy, have a whole different kind of mind.' He stretched his mouth in a kind of smile, no trace of pleasure in it. 'We are from the mountaintop: all time, all space. We see in one instant the passionate vision and the blowout. — John Gardner

He took another swallow of beer. "Are things as bad as they seem? Or have I just gotten old like my da, and now everything tastes a little bitter compared to when I was a boy?" Kote wiped at the bar for a long moment, as if reluctant to speak. "I think things are usually bad one way or another," he said. "It might be that only us older folk can see it." Graham began to nod, then frowned. "Except you're not old, are you? I forget that most times." He looked the red-haired man up and down. "I mean, you move around old, and you talk old, but you're not, are you? I'll bet you're half my age." He squinted at the innkeeper. "How old are you, anyway?" The innkeeper gave a tired smile. "Old enough to feel old. — Patrick Rothfuss

Any chance of getting something sweet to go with my coffee?" [Finn] asked in a hopeful voice.
I arched an eyebrow at him. "You mean all those pieces of strawberry pie that you ate for lunch weren't enough?"
"I'm a growing boy," Finn said in a sincere tone. "I need my vitamins."
Bria snorted. "The only thing that's growing on you, Lane, is your ego."
Finn sidled up to my sister and gave her a dazzling smile. "Well, other things of mine also tend to swell up in your presence, detective. — Jennifer Estep