Smiling Eyes Quotes & Sayings

Say what you said before again. The Irish thing. I want to say it back to you."
He smiled. Took her hand. "You'll never pronounce it."
"Yes, I will."
Still smiling, he said it slowly, waited for her to fumble through. But her eyes stayed steady and serious as she brought his hand to her heart, laid hers on his, and repeated the words.
She saw emotion move over his face. His heart leaped hard against her hand. "You undo me, Eve."
He sat up, dropped his brow against hers. "Thank God for you," he murmured in a voice gone raw. "Thank God for you. — J.D. Robb

So, are you two going to get married already or waht?"
I laughed. "Excuse me?"
Carlee rolled her eyes. "Please. You don't even look at other guys. And I have never seen a guy that crazy about a girl before. You're like, his entire world."
I shrugged, smiling. "I can't imagine ever finding someone better than Lend. He just
knows me. Totally. Everything. And miraculously he still likes me."
"Likes? Girls, he head-over-heels-freaking-loves you."
"It's mutual! — Kiersten White

You saved my life," I mutter. "I ... I don't know what to say?" I swallow hard. "How can I thank you?"

"No thank-you necessary," he says.

I search his moist eyes, and wipe away tears from mine. "I will always be indebted to you."

"Better plan," he says. "How about you just save my life someday, then we'll be even?"

"I will," I say, smiling through tears. "I will. — Sarah Jio

I didn't mean to tell you," Mrs. Whatsit faltered. "I didn't mean ever to let you know. But oh, my dears, I did so love being a star!"
"Yyouu are sstill verry yyoungg," Mrs Witch said, her voice faintly chiding.
The Medium sat looking happily at the star-filled sky in her ball, smiling, and nodding and chuckling gently. But Meg noticed that her eyes were drooping, and suddenly her head fell forward and she gave a faint snore.
"Poor thing," Mrs Whatsit said, "we've worn her out. It's very hard work for her. — Madeleine L'Engle

Look, if you're going to insist that I've taught you something, I guess I should give you a final exam." "Really?" "One question." "Sure." "Go look at an electron microscope photograph of an atom, okay? Don't just glance at it. It is very important that you examine it very closely. Think about what it means." "Okay." "And then answer this question. Does it make your heart flutter?" "Does it make my heart flutter?" "Yes or no. It's a yes or no question. No equations allowed." "All right, I'll let you know." "Don't be dense. I don't need to know. You need to know. This exam is self-graded. And it's not the answer that counts, it's what you do with the information." We locked eyes. His younger face flashed in my mind. The energetic, smiling bongo drum player I had seen pictured in the front of his book, The Feynman Lectures on Physics. A question popped from my lips. — Anonymous

He holds my gaze, and the look in his eyes is a love letter in itself. When he speaks, his voice is rough. "Will you marry me, Cate?"
I go still, the question hanging in the air. I have never felt more accepted 'for the girl I am, not the girl I want to be' never more loved and respected than I am in this moment. It's a choice, and it's mine to make.
"Yes," I breathe.
Finn slides the simple gold band onto my ring finger. I tilt it, and the ruby sparkles, catching the sunlight. He leans down and brushes his lips against mine, sealing the promise. 'I can't wait to make you my wife.'
'Cate Belastra.' I try it out and despite the solemnity of the moment, despite knowing what this will cost him, I can't help smiling. — Jessica Spotswood

Clary shut her eyes. You didn't say no to an angel, no matter what it had in mind. Her heart pounding, she sat floating in the darkness behind her eyelids, resolutely trying not to think of Jace. But his face appear against the blank screen of her closed eyelids anyway - not smiling at her but looking sidelong, and she could see the scar at his temple, the uneven curl at the corner of his mouth, and the silver line on his throat where Simon had bitten him - all the marks and flaws and imperfections that made up the person she loved most in the world. Jace. A bright light lit her vision to scarlet, and she fell back against the sand, wondering if she was going to pass out - or maybe she was dying - but she didn't want to die, not now that she could see Jace's face so clearly in front of her. She could almost hear his voice, too, saying her name, the way he'd whispered it at Renwick's, over and over again. Clary. Clary. Clary.
"Clary," Jace said. "Open your eyes. — Cassandra Clare

So what does the winner get in the end?" Tate asked.
"They get to sit around with the losers and say, 'I am King Xavier of the world.' Repeat after me."
"And me?" Tate asked.
"You get to be my queen."
"How come you're the leader of the community?" Narnie asked, almost smiling. "Why can't Tate be?"
Webb looked at his sister, grinning. "Why can't you, Narnie?"
Fitz leaned his head on Narnie's shoulder. "And I'll be your queen?"
"You can be the eunuch," Jude said, shoving him out of the way, "and I'll be her prince." He bowed and took Narnie's hand, kissing it, and their eyes met. It was awkward for a moment until Narnie looked away. — Melina Marchetta

There were crinkles at the corners of his eyes, which were merry and asquint with unselfconscious happiness. The change was profound. If he was beautiful when grave-and he was-smiling, he was nothing short of glorious. — Laini Taylor

He pulled up a chair and sat down by the bed, smiling at me. It was a nice smile. "So you're a werewolf." He nodded. "How did it happen?" He stared down at the floor, then up. His face looked so solemn, I was sorry I'd asked. I was expecting some great tale of a savage attack survived. "I got a bad batch of lycanthropy serum." "You what?" "You heard me." He seemed embarrassed. "You got a bad shot?" "Yes." My smile got wider and wider. "It's not funny," he said. I shook my head. "Not at all." I knew my eyes were shiny, and it was all I could do not to laugh out loud. "You've got to admit it's nicely ironic." He sighed. "You're going to hurt yourself. Go ahead and laugh." I did. I laughed until it hurt, and Richard joined in. Laughter is contagious, too. — Laurell K. Hamilton

Magical morning lights, dreamy sky,
Smiling flowers letting us know summer is opening her eyes — Debasish Mridha

Charis sipped, smiling back. " ... I saw God everywhere."
Grif narrowed his eyes. "Really?"
She nodded and leaned close. "We were actually pen pals. I'd write Him letters in Latin and leave them in my closet."
"Why the closet?"
She shrugged. "Because He didn't appear after I set my front yard's bushes on fire, so I decided He was shy. — Vicki Pettersson

The young woman's smiling lips met his caresses halfway, and her eyes shone in their depths like pools warmed by the sun. — Marcel Proust

Greta moved on. She kept smiling. Nobody looked at her with any recognition or pleasure and why should they? People's eyes slid round her and then they went on with their conversations. They laughed. Everybody but Greta was equipped with friends, jokes, half-secrets, everybody appeared to have found somebody to welcome them. — Alice Munro

Wherever faith has eyes to see, there is a smiling presence of the Son of God. — Aiden Wilson Tozer

His gaze moved from me to my hand as his brows rose and his grin transformed into a heart-stopping smile that reached his eyes, lightening them and warming them up. Seth not smiling or smirking was beautiful, but him smiling? — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Hayden gave me a lopsided smile before turning to Olivia. "Aunt Liz is baking cookies."Her eyes lit up like someone shoved a diamond in her face. "Cookies? Coca chip?""Uh-huh, but isn't it your bedtime?" asked Hayden. "You probably missed out on the chance.""Nooo." She dragged the word out, eyes wide.I shook my head, smiling. "So wrong. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

What's it doing?" the green-faced faerie whined again.
A deep, elegant voice replied this time. "She's building a trap." Rhysand.
"But the Middengard - "
"Relies on its scent to see," Rhysand answered, and I gave a special glower for him as I glanced at the rim of the trench and found him smiling at me. "And Feyre just became invisible."
His violet eyes twinkled. I made an obscene gesture before I broke into a run, heading straight for the worm. — Sarah J. Maas

This girl, this impossibly sweet girl, was his present and his future, despite his past. Fate had to be smiling at him. He couldn't imagine life without this dark haired beauty. Those beautiful hazel eyes reached into his heart and took hold. — Shayna Varadeaux

A commandment," the man says, spreading his arms, "is set in stone." Imagine that his face aches from smiling. He's been smiling for hours: teeth clenched, lips drawn back, eyes crinkled so the crow's feet show. There is an art to smiling in a way that others will believe. It is always important to include the eyes; otherwise, people will know you hate — N.K. Jemisin

Placing his snout on the edge of my bed,
Boomer pricks up his ears and widens his smiling eyes
when I turn my head towards him.
I smile at Boomer.
"I guess you want to go for a walk?"
Boomer bobs his head in agreement
and runs around in a circle.

"Okay," I say.
I turn over,
throw off the blankets,
raise my upper body
and swing my legs around and over
the edge of the bed.
I sit on the edge of the bed
with my feet touching the floor
and my hands at my sides,
all holding me up as my upper body
leans over the edge.
I am still half asleep.

I look around to my right for Boomer,
but he is no where to be found.
Boomer went for his last walk
some thirty years ago. — Jeffrey A. White

When it's time to leave, we put on our shoes, kiss Daddy good-bye, and tumble out the front door. Waiting for us on the street in front of his car is Peter with a bouquet of cellophane-wrapped pink carnations. "Happy birthday, kid," he says. Kitty's eyes bulge. "Are those for me?" He laughs. "Who else would they be for? Hurry and get in the car." Kitty turns to me, her eyes bright, her smile as wide as her face. I'm smiling too. "Are you coming too, Lara Jean?" I shake my head. "No, there's only room for two." "You're my only girl today, kid," Peter says, and Kitty runs to him and snatches the flowers out of his hand. Gallantly, he opens the door for her. He shuts it and turns and winks at me. "Don't be jealous, Covey." I've never liked him more than in this moment. — Jenny Han

If you please, Mr. Haha, we'd like a quart of your finest whiskey."

His eyes tilt more. Would you believe it? Haha is smiling! Laughing, too. "Which one of you is a drinkin' man?"

"It's for making fruitcakes, Mr. Haha. Cooking. "

This sobers him. He frowns. "That's no way to waste good whiskey. — Truman Capote

Then her eyes narrowed. The sun was spilling in the window behind her and Dageus's eyes were golden, dappled with darker flecks. Smoky and sensual, fringed by thick dark lashes, but gold nonetheless.
"What is with your eyes?" she exclaimed. "Is it part of being
a Druid?"
"What color are they?" he asked warily.
"Gold."
He flashed her another unguarded smile. It was like basking in the sun, she thought, tracing her fingers over his beard-shadowed jaw, smiling helplessly back. — Karen Marie Moning

There is an art to smiling in a way that others will believe. It is always important to include the eyes; otherwise, people will know you hate them. — N.K. Jemisin

Pump up your bagpipes and delight our ears with decent martial music. With your permission, noble Calanthe!" "Oh mother of mine," whispered the queen to Geralt, raising her eyes to the vault for a moment in silent resignation. But she nodded her permission, smiling openly and kindly. — Andrzej Sapkowski

I left the jutra to chop wood. I began my walk through the snow, five kilometers to the tree line. That's when I saw it. A tiny silver of gold appeared between shades of gray on the horizon.
I stared at the amber band of sunlight, smiling.
The sun had returned.
I closed my eyes. I felt Andrius moving close. "I'll see you," he said.
"Yes, I will see you," I whispered "I will."
I reached into my pocket and squeezed the stone. — Ruta Sepetys

And as for what I've learned: be an instrument of peace. Be a gentleman at all costs. Enjoy yourself - have fun with your existence. Learn to listen to your inner voice and don't overdose on yourself. Keep your darkness in check. Let music be a healing force. Be a real musician: once you start counting money before notes, you're a full-time wannabe. Put your guitar down and go outside and take a long drink of light with your eyes. Go walk in the park and take off your shoes and socks and feel the grass under your feet and mud between your toes. Go see a baby smiling, go see a wino crawling, go see life. Feel life - all of it, as much as possible. Find a human melody, then write a song about it. Make it all come through your music. — Carlos Santana

For many men value appearances more than reality - thus they violate what's right. Everyone's prepared to sigh over some suffering man, though no sorrow really eats their hearts, or they can pretend to join another person's happiness forcing their faces into smiling masks. But a good man discerns true character - he's not fooled by eyes feigning loyalty, favouring him with watered-down respect. — Aeschylus

It's alright" said a dreamy voice from beside Harry as Ron vanished into the coach's dark interior. "You're not going mad or anything. I can see them too."
"Can you?" said Harry desperately, turning to Luna. He could see the bat-winged horses reflected in her wide, silvery eyes.
"Oh yes," said Luna, "I've been able to see them since my first year here. They've always pulled the carriages. Don't worry. You're just as sane as I am."
Smiling faintly, she climbed into the musty interior of the carriage after Ron. Not altogether reassured, Harry followed her. — J.K. Rowling

As Dougal ushered them into the dining room, he wondered if Sophia's father and her grandfather would both wish to stay at MacFarlane House with them.
But as he looked into Sophia's smiling eyes, he realized it didn't matter. So long as she was by his side, life would be a grand adventure.
And no man could ask for more. — Karen Hawkins

Peace be with you," he says softly, kissing me on the cheek, and I tell him the same. Then, we shake hands with everyone around us. My eyes fill with tears of joy as I look around at the smiling people, all sharing — Kristina Ludwig

His face was smiling, his eyes glittered in the late autumn moonlight, and he emitted a flickering aura that might have triggered seizures in an impartial but sensitive child, and yet he was strangely depressed. — Ryu Murakami

I've seen ye so many times," he said, his voice whispering warm in my ear. "You've come to me so often. When I dreamed sometimes.When I lay in fever. When I was so afraid and so lonely I knew I must die. When I needed you, I would always see ye, smiling, with your hair curling up about your face. But ye never spoke. And ye never touched me."
"I can touch you now." I reached up and drew my hand gently down his temple, his ear, the cheek and jaw that I could see. My hand went to the nape of his neck, under the clubbed bronze hair, and he raised his head at last, and cupped his face between my hands, love glowing strong in the dark blue eyes.
"Dinna be afraid," he said softly, "There's the two of us now. — Diana Gabaldon

Just at that moment she glanced towards him and saw him smiling at her, his eyes lingering on her with warmth and an indefinable something else. Her heart caught in her chest — Emily Arden

I look into his eyes and see myself reflected there, smiling up at him. I'm ready to hear all about it. in bass and soprano. In songs of longing and love. In our voices, braided like the strongest cord.

I take off running up the trail, Will on my heels, the whole world waiting for us at the top of the ridge.

I'm ready to fly through the door and back again.
I'm ready to sing to the wind." -Amber — Jaye Robin Brown

She cleared her throat but still her voice came out much too huskily. "Are you all right? I didn't see you there. I didn't mean to kick you."
He was looking at her, examining her, and he smiled crookedly. "You look good in the morning, Al."
Her hair was stringy, her eyes were tired and puffy, and she had on absolutely no makeup. "I look like hell."
"Whoa, that's pretty harsh language for you."
"You look like hell, too."
"Hell is an improvement for me," he told her. "In fact, I consider it a compliment. See, shit's my usual look. On really bad days, I look like total shit. So, yeah, hell is a big step up for me." His smile made his eyes crinkle. "So, thank you very much."
Alessandra couldn't keep from smiling back. — Suzanne Brockmann

Hey what's the matter? Are you crying?"
I shook my head, slowly opening my eyes and smiling at him again. "No, it's nothing."
But it wasn't nothing. I didn't want to ruin the moment by explaining to him, but suddenly it was like I had a zoomed-out view of this moment and I never, ever (ever) wanted it to end. I had Nutella on my face and my first real love sprawled out next to me and any minute the stars were going to sink back into the sky in preparation for a new day, and for the first time in a long time, I couldn't wait for what the day would bring.
And that was something. — Jenna Evans Welch

Will watched her go with regret. His attraction to the dark-haired lady with her execrable embroidery had taken him by surprise. She'd been laughing at his brothers - that was what had done it. Her eyes had sparkled with humor, her smiling lips just begging for a kiss. — Eve Edwards

A free theologian works in communication with other theologians ... He waits for them and asks them to wait for him. Our sadly lacking yet indispensable theological co-operation depends directly or indirectly on whether or not we are wiling to wait for one another, perhaps lamenting, yet smiling with tears in our eyes. — Karl Barth

And then I get why Wes can't stop smiling, even though it looks silly with his eyeliner and jet-black hair and hard jaw and scars. I am not alone. The words dance in my mind and in his eyes and against our rings and our keys, and now I smile too. — Victoria Schwab

Another voice rages.
I hate that boy! I hate me! I am so incredibly stupid!
A sunflower leans over the fence, smiling
How dare you!
I rip off its head and throw it in the gutter.
The smart thing to do is to keep going on. Walk away quickly and no one will know what I've done. But I can't move because my eyes are locked on the slowly opening front door - locked on Mrs Muir.
'I'm sorry.' My tiny voice sounds so pathetically lame, but I've still got more lameness for her. 'I never do this sort of thing. I like sunflowers. I was just angry about something - nothing to do with you or the flower. I'm really, really sorry.'
'Oh, you are upset! Well, never mind'. Mrs Muir comes closer to me. 'Goodness, we all get cross. The main thing is: did it make you feel any better?'
'No. Yes. Maybe. A little bit.'
'Would you like to do another one? There's more out the back, too. You go for your life dear. I don't mind at all - they need a good pruning. — Bill Condon

Why should she dress in a cap and gown and sweat in the sun, when her mother was not there to pose in pictures with her and cheer when her name was called? In her mind, she only saw pictures they would never take, arms around each other, her mother gaining little wrinkles around her eyes from smiling so much. — Brit Bennett

There are guys bleeding to death who don't know it, they're smiling, they're talking, they don't feel pain because they're in shock, they ask you for some water and then they're dead. On D-day I ran past a guy lying on his spilled guts with his eyes closed and his thumb in his mouth. Eisenhower's speech had been read to us over the loudspeaker by our commander when we crossed the channel that morning. What valor and inspiration were in his words- all about how we were embarked on a great crusade, that the hopes and prayers of a liberty loving people were going with us ... I got gooseflesh when he asked for the blessing of almighty god on this great and noble undertaking. But how to reconcile that with spilled guts on a beach and flies in the eyes of some dead nineteen year old kid who traded his life for some words on paper? — Elizabeth Berg

Aashif stares at him through a hood of black cloth that reveals only a pair of brown, malevolent eyes and a mouthful of smiling teeth too white and perfect to be a product of any fourth-world, Middle-Eastern shithole. — Blake Crouch

She opened her eyes.
He sniffed.
Ah! The rosemary! Holding her breath, she waited.
He sniffed again. "Is it an herb, nyet?"
She nodded, smiling shyly. "Rosemary."
"The cook at Tullock puts it in turtle soup."
Her smile faltered. She smelled like a turtle? Not a fragrant loaf of bread, but a turtle? "Surely you've smelled it in some other dishes, too? Bread, perhaps?"
He shook his head.
"In a delicious stew, then? Something savory and warm?"
He released her cloak. "In my country, we throw rosemary onto graves."
She just looked at him, appalled.
"That seems odd to you, nyet? Rosemary keeps fresh the ... How do you say-?" He tapped his forehead. "Thoughts about times no longer here."
"Memories?"
"Da! Rosemary keeps fresh the memories of the dead."
Lovely. She smelled like a turtle and the grave. — Karen Hawkins

In his heart, she'd been smiling for him.
But now she was smiling at Colin Bridgerton, he of the famous charm and sparkling green eyes. — Julia Quinn

I love the name of it. Makes me feel hopeful. I want it over my mantle." I paused in what I was doing, my eyes scanning over the photos title, Second Chances. He was smiling, I could hear it in his voice, when he added, "And I could tell it was your favorite when you showed it to me. I figure I have a better chance of getting you to come back to my house, if I fill it with the things you love." He'd hit his target with the opening salvo. That second part was just overkill. — R.K. Lilley

My horizon lightened, I see an old woman. Who is she? Where is she from? Bent over, the ends of her boubou tied behind her, she empties into a plastic bag the left-overs of red rice. Her smiling face tells of the pleasant day she has just had. She wants to take back proof of this to her family, living perhaps in Ouakam, Thiaroye or Pikine.
Standing upright, her eyes meeting my disapproving look, she mutters between teeth reddened by cola nuts: 'Lady, death is just as beautiful as life has been. — Mariama Ba

I wish I could have fought him for you," he said abruptly, looking back at me. His blue eyes were dark and earnest.
I smiled at him, touched.
"It wasn't your fight, it was mine. But you won it anyway." I reached out a hand, and he squeezed it.
"Aye, but that's not what I meant. If I'd fought him man to man and won, ye'd not need to feel any regret over it." He hesitated. "If ever - "
"There aren't any more ifs," I said firmly. "I thought of every one of them yesterday, and here I still am."
"Thank God," he said, smiling, "and God help you." Then he added, "Though I'll never understand why."
I put my arms around his waist and held on as the horse slithered down the last steep slope.
"Because," I said, "I bloody well can't do without you, Jamie Fraser, and that's all about it. — Diana Gabaldon

The girl looked older than Cath. Even with her eyes closed. Levi's other hand was tangled in her long, blond hair, and he was kissing her with his mouth smiling and open. He made it look so easy. — Rainbow Rowell

William!" I turned smiling. "Did they send you over?"
William shook his head. "They're still arguing, and it's spreading. Your professor has opinions."
I rolled my eyes, because it was William. "She's from Vinland. As far as she's concerned, wildlife is something you shoot first and study later. She's been complaining about the menagerie animals since the day she got to Mill City, especially this one. — Patricia C. Wrede

The first time I saw him he was cooking mushrooms for himself; the next time he was asleep under a hedge, smiling in his sleep. He was indeed always cheerful, though I thought I could see in his eyes (swift as the eyes of a rabbit, when they peered out of their wrinkled holes) a melancholy which was well-nigh a portion of their joy; the visionary melancholy of purely instinctive natures and of all animals. — W.B.Yeats

the purpose of so much of her life, she had won she had won. Smiling, she closed her eyes and drifted towards death. — Reay Tannahill

Gamache loved to see inside the homes of people involved in a case. To look at the choices they made for their most intimate space. The colors, the decorations. The aromas. Were there books? What sort?

How did it feel?

He'd been in shacks in the middle of nowhere, carpets worn, upholstery torn, wallpaper peeling off. But stepping in he'd also noticed the smell of fresh coffee and bread. Walls were taken up with immense smiling graduation photos and on rusty pocked TV trays stood modest chipped vases with cheery daffodils or pussy willows or some tiny wild flower picked by worn hands for eyes that would adore it.

And he'd been in mansions that felt like mausoleums. — Louise Penny

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

It hit him in that moment in a way he knew he'd never forget that he could take that hand and she could lead him anywhere. Just tip up her lips, turn those eyes to him and hold out her hand and he'd go straight to hell with her and do it smiling. — Kristen Ashley

As we approached each other, the noise and the students around us melted away and we were utterly alone, passing, smiling, holding each other's eyes, floors and walls gone, two people in a universe of space and stars.
— Jerry Spinelli

I slowly lean in toward her when her lips part into a smile.
"Are you planning on using tongue this time?" she whispers.
I squeeze my eyes shut and take a step back, completely thrown off by her comment. I rub my palms down my face and groan.
"Dammit, Six. I was already feeling inadequate. Now you've just put expectations on it."
She's smiling when I look at her again. "Oh, there are definitely expectations," she says teasingly. "I expect this to be the most mind-blowing thing I've ever experienced, so you better deliver. — Colleen Hoover

Stories," she blurted. "The mosaic told stories, didn't it?"
"Yes, old ones."
"I'll tell them to you."
His eyes cracked open. He didn't remember closing them. "You know those tales?"
"Yes."
She didn't. This became clear as she began to tell them. She knew bits and pieces, cobbled together in ways that would have made him smile if smiling didn't hurt. "You," he breathed, "are such a faker."
"Don't interrupt."
Mostly pure invention. She remembered the images--it pleased him, how vividly she knew the temple floor's details. Which god curled around which, or how the snake's tongue forked into three. But the stories she told had little to do with his religion. Sometimes they didn't even make sense.
"Do this again," he said, "when I have strength to laugh."
"As bad as that?"
"Mmm. Maybe not. For a Valorian. — Marie Rutkoski

When they separated, the freckleless spot between Pete's eyes was bright red. Before anything else could be said or done, May grabbed her bike and hopped on. She waited until she was six houses down to turn and see if he was still standing in the driveway watching her. He was. She stopped for just a moment, and they caught each other's eyes. Then he slowly started walking backward toward the house. May couldn't see that well, considering that her eyes were still a little blurry and he was far away, but it looked like he was smiling. — Maureen Johnson

Then I looked right at Mama, for the first time in what seemed like forever, and she wasn't looking at me, but into me. She was pulling me to her with her eyes, like she used to do. All of a sudden I could see the light that was Mama's shining out of her eyes. I couldn't help smiling at it.
'Be careful,' my heart warned me.
But I was having a hard time remembering that there as anything to be careful about. Because if I just looked at Mama's eyes ... I could tell that the part of her I thought had gone away forever was still there and glowing, only from deep down inside her. — Katherine Hannigan

I've only have time for one last lesson...
"I have you," Demandred finally growled, breathing heavily. "Who ever you are, I have you. You cannot win."
"You didn't listen to me," Lan whispered.
One last lesson. The hardest...
Demandred struck, and Lan saw his opening. Lan lunged forward, placing Demandred's sword point against his ow side and ramming himself forward onto it.
"I did not come here to win", Lan whispered, smiling, "I came here to kill you. Death is lighter that a feather."
Demandred's eyes opened wide, and he tried to pull back. Too late. Lan's sword took him straight through the throat.
The world grew dark as Lan slipped backward off the sword. He felt Nynaeve's fear and pain as he did, and he sent his love to her. — Robert Jordan

Martin wasn't smiling, but his eyes were warm and interested. "Do you always talk like that?"
"Like what? Like awesome?"
"Yeah, like awesome. — Penny Reid

Mori smiled properly. The lines around his eyes were deeper than usual now. They made him look like an old photograph of a young man, often crushed, but ironed carefully so that only the ghosts of the marks remained. — Natasha Pulley

When the congregation began to disperse, a number of persons, chiefly ladies, waited for him near the pulpit, and, as he came down, met him with greetings and compliments. Nora watched him from her place, listening, smiling and passing his handkerchief over his forehead. At last they relieved him, and he came up to her. She remembered for years afterward the strange half-smile on his face. There was something in it like a pair of eyes peeping over a wall. It seemed to express so fine an acquiescence in what she had done, that, for the moment, she had a startled sense of having committed herself to something. He gave her his hand, without manifesting any surprise. "How — Henry James

Saddened that I, a smart, semi-funny, nutty, loyal, good woman, could feel so negative about myself under all the smiling and humor, I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. The way I felt about my appearance was bad. Really freakin' bad. — Samantha Young

Talbot's eyes widened as he recognised Daniel. The four lost boys got out of the car and stood behind their alpha.
"So he's back?" Talbot asked.
"Yep." I couldn't stop smiling a bit and thinking of that song from the oldies station my Grandpa Kramer used to listen to. My boyfriend's back and you're gonna be in trouble ... — Bree Despain

The word "marriage" lingered in Guy's ears, too. It was a solemn word to him. It had the primordial solemnity of holy, love, sin. It was Miriam's round terra cotta-coloured mouth saying, "Why should I put myself out for you?" and it was Anne's eyes as she pushed her hair back and looked up at him on the lawn of her house where she planted crocuses. It was Miriam turning from the tall thin window in the room in Chicago, lifting her freckled, shield-shaped face directly up to his as she always did before she told a lie, and Steve's long dark head, insolently smiling. — Patricia Highsmith

When his eyes rested on her, he stopped. He'd been smiling before, in a friendly fashion. But what lit his face when he saw her was more than a smile, more than a grin. It was as if someone had thrown aside the curtains of a sickroom on a glorious morning, to let sunlight spill into every darkened corner. — Courtney Milan

The applause of list'ning senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, And read their history in a nation's eyes. — Thomas Gray

A woman stood, smiling with adoration at the baby in her arms. Suddenly, she turned, showing her angelic face. Her eyes were large, beautiful, brown eyes, but terror displayed across her face.
Elizabeth felt a deep, sharp ache penetrate her heart, as she reached deep for air and it came in a low gasp. Her hands flew to her chest. She soon realized the window in front of her was the same one in the vision. — Beth Bares

smiling with sad eyes I've seen what you've been hiding — R H Sin

This is me, God! Elisa. I once saw you in all the world. But the world is dark now, Lord. Full. Full of darkness. Close your eyes for a moment, God, and let me sing to you. Let me remember that you are here. Here in the notes. Smiling down as I play for you. Just this moment, God, let me sing to you. And maybe in the song, I will forget whether I am singing to you, or you are singing to me ... — Bodie Thoene

My sweet strawberry,
Your frowning eyebrows, almond eyes, pomegranate lips and cherry nail fingers
Does not make me love you limitless
Nor your sweet smiles, lovely jokes, and charming glances
It is you; that makes smile sweet, glances lovely and eyes gorgeous
Over and over again I see thousands everyday smiling and frowning;
But they all seem tasteless
It is you, as always the most perfect and unique
Strawberry!!! — M.F. Moonzajer

We can work, study, laugh and have fun, dance, sing, and enjoy many different experiences. These are a wonderful part of life, but they are not central to why we are here. The opportunity to choose good over evil is precisely why we are here. Not one of us would say, "I want to choose evil." We all want to choose the right. However, the choice of good over evil is not always easy, because evil frequently lurks behind smiling eyes. — Neil L. Andersen

He sat there looking at her smiling and laughing, watching her hair fall over her eyes and she setting it back behind her ear, He turned away bowed his head down and smiled himself looking back at the sky. — Akshay Vasu

We can't stop staring at each other. Saying nothing, nothing to say. I trace the curve of his jaw and throat, the sweet spot below his ear, with only my eyes, because he's too faraway to touch. We stare and we stare and I can't stop myself from smiling, because he's smiling, too. We don't have to speak to have this conversation; in fact, the only way to have it is by not using words. — Megan Hart

What are you smiling about?" Benedict demanded.
She didn't bother to glance up as she replied, "I'm plotting your demise."
He grinned-not that she was looking at him, but it was one of those smiles she could hear in the way he breathed.
She hated that she as that sensitive to his every nuance. Especially since she had a sneaking suspicion that he was the same way about her.
"At least it sounds entertaining,"he said.
"What does?" she asked, finally moving her eyes from the lower hem of the curtain, which she'd been staring at for what seemed like hours.
"My demise," he said, his smile crooked and amused. "If you're going to kill me, you might as well enjoy yourself while you're at it, because Lord knows, I won't."
Her jaw dropped a good inch. "You're mad," she said. — Julia Quinn

She drew her knees up and dropped her chin on the top of them, smiling at him. Watching him. Caressing him with soft eyes. "You're going to go out there and act all tough, aren't you?"
"That's my intention, yes." He slipped a knife into his boots. It took discipline to keep his face pure stone when she made him want to laugh.
-Lexi & Gavriil — Christine Feehan

Dad nods, looks me dead in the eyes; slowly and regretfully, he banishes all the smiling and joking from his face, and for once he's just my dad, watching his son who has fallen so low. — Ned Vizzini

This is one of the most serious problems with seeker-sensitive churches. I was talking to a pastor at a seeker-friendly church not long ago about his idea that prospective Christians needed to "feel welcome" and "accepted" before anything else: no "threats," no "judgmental baggage." I asked, "If you had a person living in sin come to your church, would you confront him?" He furrowed his brow and shook his head disapprovingly. "Oh, no! We'd want him to feel loved and welcome." My eyes widened. "How long would it be before you would actually say something about that?" "Maybe a year and a half, two years," he said, smiling. "Because then he would really feel a part of things." That was shocking to me. Is there some virtue in leaving a man in his sin for the sake of feeling accepted? "Well, that's the difference between your church and our church," I said finally. "Openly practicing sinners come to our church, and they either get saved or they don't come back. — John F. MacArthur Jr.

That's it. I had enough of your abuse," Tristan said, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me back down on the bed. I screamed as he tackled me. We wrestled back and forth, laughing. I found his tickle spot giving me the advantage, but he was fast and kept getting the upper hand. He had me pinned with my arms above my head and his body pressing down on mine. I stopped resisting, but he didn't let go. He was panting and smiling over his victory. He stared deep into my eyes making my heart race. — Jessica Miller

When she heard this Sonya blushed so that tears came into her eyes and, unable to bear the looks turned upon her, ran away into the dancing hall, whirled round it at full speed with her dress puffed out like a balloon, and, flushed and smiling, plumped down on the floor. — Leo Tolstoy

The other ones don't want to play with me."
There were more of him? Dear God ...
The doctor turned, smiling at the boy. "Is it because you're not sharing your toys?"
Kat choked on what sounded like a near-hysterical laugh.
Micah's eyes slid to the doctor. "Sharing is not how you assert dominance."
What. The. Holy. Hell. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Why are you smiling?' Gargarin asked Froi, from across the balconette. 'When you're going to have to learn a lesson in diplomacy today and choose between the gardens of two women?'
Froi laughed, his chin resting on Quintana's head, his eyes taking in the joy of his son, despite the ridiculous cap that covered the babe's head. He looked across at Lirah and Arjuro and Rafuel, and then back to Gargarin who was smiling himself, because he knew the answer to his own question.
'Because today, I think I'm leaning on the side of wonder. — Melina Marchetta

You should have know this, Mari, that I would help you."
She was smiling again as she wiped her eyes. "Maybe I should have known. But I didn't, Alain. You are a Mage, and sometimes my memories of what happened in the waste and in Ringhmon and at Dorcastle have seemed like some kind of hallucination. I didn't know how you would react when I found you. I was actually ... Alain, I was afraid that when I found you I'd discover that you'd gone back to being like you were when we first met. That you'd just look at me as if I didn't exist and walk away. I should have realized that wouldn't happen. I should have known that you'd help without question. You keep saying that truth doesn't exist, buy you are true. There's nothing false about you. — Jack Campbell

She would have given her soul to him if he had asked her. And now both were fixing their eyes on the ground, abashed, and again were throwing glances at each other, smiling with love's desire. — Edith Hamilton

Why do you hurt me? What more do you want?" she asked, tears shining in her eyes.
"Power over you, little one," he said, smiling. "What does any man want but that? It is something in the blood of every one of us. We would all be a tyrant if we could. — Conn Iggulden

Mom?" he whispered. "Dad?"
They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his, even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry's knobbly knees - Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life.
The Potters smiled and waved at Harry and he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness. — J.K. Rowling

Our eyes meet. Am I mistaken or does the corner of her mouth tuck in ever so slightly and the petal of her lower lip curl out ever so richly? She is smiling-at me! My mind hits upon half a dozen schemes to circumvent the terrible moment of separation. No doubt she is a Texan. They are nearly always bad judges of men, these splendid Amazons. Most men are afraid of them and so they fall victim to the first little Mickey Rooney that comes along. In a better world I should be able to speak to her: come, darling, you can see that I love you. If you are planning to meet some little Mickey, think better of it. What a tragedy it is that I do not know her, will probably never see her again. What good times we could have! — Walker Percy

I Dwelt alone
In a world of moan,
And my soul was a stagnant tide,
Till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride-
Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride
Ah, less-less bright
The stars of night
Than the eyes of the radiant girl!
And never a flake
That the vapor can make
With the moon-tints of purple and pearl,
Can vie with the modest Eulalie's most unregarded curl-
Can vie compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie's most humble and careless curl

Now Doubt-now Pain
Come never again,
For her soul gives me sigh for sigh,
And all day long
Shine, bright and strong,
Astarte within the sky,
While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye-
While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye. — Edgar Allan Poe

She stalked down the short hallway, reached the door, pushed aside the bolt that secured it, twisted the lock, and then wrenched it open, her temper steadily rising when she looked at Oliver and found him smiling back at her, although his eyes held a distinct trace of temper.
"What?"
"Is that anyway to greet your fiance? — Jen Turano

He got up, wishing to go around, but the aunt handed him the snuffbox right over Helene, behind her back. Helene moved forward so as to make room and, smiling, glanced around. As always at soirees, she was wearing a gown in the fashion of the time, quite open in front and back. Her bust, which had always looked like marble to Pierre, was now such a short distance from him that he could involuntarily make out with his nearsighted eyes the living loveliness of her shoulders and neck, and so close to his lips that he had only to lean forward a little to touch her. He sensed the warmth of her body, the smell of her perfume, and the creaking of her corset as she breathed. He saw not her marble beauty, which made one with her gown, he saw and sensed all the loveliness of her body, which was merely covered by clothes. And once he had seen it, he could not see otherwise, as we cannot return to a once-exposed deception. — Leo Tolstoy

Look at yourself-Are your eyes twinkling?Is your heart Dancing?Are your Lips smiling?If yes, then you are truly enjoying your Life.-RVM — R.v.m.

You think you know. Then you lower your guard and act as though everything's just great. With the passage of time, you stop paying as much attention to things as you should. You're confident. What more can you do? Life is smiling on you. So is luck. You can afford your dreams. Everything's fine, everything blesses you ... and then, without warning, the sky falls in on your head. And once you're flat on your back, you realize that your life, your whole life - with its ups and downs, its pains and pleasures, its promises and failures, hangs and has always hung by a thread as flimsy and imperceptible as the threads in a spider's web. Suddenly, the slightest sound terrifies you, and no longer feel like believing in anything whatsoever. All you want to do is close your eyes and think no more — Yasmina Khadra

Yeah. She's smiling. But don't let that fool you. Look into her eyes. She's breaking inside. — Unknown

Brassa,' she whispered, 'what is the moon? Why does it grow in the sky?'
'Because the moon is the goddess Tor,' answered Brassa softly, smiling down at Larka, 'looking down on us all. As some say the fury of the sun is the hunter Fenris snarling at the Varg, so they say the moon is the wolf goddess, opening her eyes wider and wider and stroking the world with her kindness. — David Clement-Davies

I remember him standing next to me at Hoosier Hill, smiling out at the ugly trees and the ugly farmland and the ugly kids as if he could see Oz. 'Believe it or not, it's actually beautiful to some people..' So I decide to see it through his eyes. — Jennifer Niven

You just couldn't wait to get me naked, could you, Princess?" Loki asked tiredly. I started to pull my hand back, but he put his own hand over it, keeping it in place.
"No, I - I was checking for wounds," I stumbled. I wouldn't meet his gaze.
"I'm sure." He moved his thumb, almost caressing my hand, until it hit my ring. "What's that?" He tried to sit up to see it, so I lifted my hand, showing him the emerald-encrusted oval on my finger. "Is that a wedding ring?"
"No, engagement." I lowered my hand, resting it on the bed next to him. "I'm not married yet."
"I'm not too late, then." He smiled and settled back in the bed.
"Too late for what?" I asked.
"To stop you, of course." Still smiling, he closed his eyes. — Amanda Hocking