Wild In Your Smile Quotes & Sayings

If an American is motoring on his own, he (the paragon of morality and chastity) will slow down and stop beside every solitary pretty female pedestrian, bare his teeth in a big smile, and tempt her into his car with a wild roll of the eyes. A lady who fails to appreciate his passion will qualify as an idiot who doesn't realise how lucky she is to have the opportunity of getting to know the owner of this 100-horse-power motor car. — Vladimir Mayakovsky

Did you see it last night?" she asked quietly. "The stag?"
"Yes."
"It was beautiful."
When he didn't answer, she added, "Don't you agree?" Perhaps men did not think animals "beautiful", or did not admit to it if they did.
"Yes." He gave her a rare, easy smile. "It reminded me of you. Beautiful, graceful, fearless."
"And here I thought him so much like you. Proud, wild, strong." She laughed softly. "Perhaps he didn't exist at all, and we were just out here chasing each other."
-Cecily & Luke — Tessa Dare

Stanley forced a smile to his lips at the memory of the onesided romance; it was silly, after all, a stupid childhood crush. Who'd fall in love with a fictional character? That was the kind of thing you laughed about as an adult. Or at least Harriet had thought so. He couldn't quite do it, though. Couldn't quite see it as a joke. It had felt too real, too raw and wild and fierce, for him to
dismiss it even now. It was love, of a sort, stunted and unformed as it was. For a time, it had kept him sane. — Amelia Mangan

I can't judge how beauty looks anymore," he said. "But I know the sound of it. It sounds like a flowing river of wild, sweet honey. Beauty smells like rosemary, and it tastes of nectar. Beauty sneezes like a flea." She smiled. That beautiful smile. How could she ever doubt her effect on him? "This is how plain you are. — Tessa Dare

You make me smile like the sun, fall out bed, sing like a bird, dizzy in my head. Spin like a record crazy on a sunday night. You make me dance like a fool, forget how to breath, shine like the sun buzz like a bee, just the thought of you can drive me wild. Oh you make me smile. -Uncle Kracker- — Uncle Kracker

Oh, now my Erin, she'd smile down on me no matter where I walked." Grandpop smiled that little smile again. "But I'd be separated from her, and I'd feel that separation in my soul, you see?"
Nathan shook his head.
Grandpop sighed. "You have the Irish eyes, boy. One of these days, you'll see from eyes, not your own, feel with a heart outside your chest. Wild Irish eyes. Nathan. When you love, love well and love true, and take care, lad, because those Irish eyes are windows into not just your own soul, but the soul of the one you love." Grandpop looked out at his Erin's grave.
"And when you lose that heart, you can't leave the places where your memories are the best. And if I left her, I'd not be buried beside her. — Lora Leigh

This is the swamp as I see it, but what I can't capture on canvas is you as I see you. No brush or paint will ever show the hero that you are. It will never be able to portray the sound of your voice when you whisper my name. The way my skin tingles when you touch me. The passion of you inside me. I love you, Talon. I know that I can't keep you. No one can ever tame a wild beast. You have a job to do and so do I. I only hope that when you think of me, it'll bring a smile to your face. Love always, Sunshine. (Sunshine's note) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Don't mind us, Shay." Mason flashed him a smile. "We're just a bunch of wild animals.
"No joke." Dax flexed his arms. — Andrea Cremer

I hear women are posting their phone numbers on the site for you." Accompanied by sexy videos and photos.
Judd's eyes gleamed. "Not after Brenna hacked the site and plastered a message on their homepage pointing out that I'm very happily mated to a wolf with sharp teeth, razored claws, and a wild case of insane jealousy." A small smile that was nonetheless, quietly satisfied. "She also uploaded several gruesome photos of feral wolf kills. — Nalini Singh

Allan was next up, and the bidding was going strong as he got into the fun of the auction, flexing his muscles and smiling brightly.
"Way to go, SEAL!" Lori and Rose shouted.
"Take off your shirt!" Emma shouted.
Catherine whooped and whistled. Paul had to smile at Emma and Catherine.
Lori's face reddened a bit, probably because her own grandma had shouted out the recommendation.
Allan began unbuttoning his shirt slowly and the crowd went wild.
Paul laughed. He hadn't thought that a honey-do bachelor auction would be anything like this. Then again, Emma was a wolf and they could change the dynamics of a situation in a heartbeat. The ranch hands made a big deal of jerking their shirts out of their waistbands and then starting to unbutton them.
A woman shouted, "Just the shirts, gentlemen."
And that had everyone laughing. — Terry Spear

Filled with determination, she pounded on Leo's door. "Wake up, slugabed!"
A string of foul words filtered through the heavy oak panels.
Grinning, Amelia went into Poppy's room. She pulled the curtains open, releasing clouds of dust that caused her to sneeze. "Poppy, it's ... achoo! ... time to get out of bed."
The covers had been drawn completely over Poppy's head. "Not yet," came her muffled protest.
Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Amelia eased the covers away from her nineteen-year-old sister. Poppy was groggy and sleep-flushed, her cheek imprinted with a line left by a fold of the bedclothes. Her brown hair, a warmer, ruddier tint than Amelia's, was a wild mass of tangles.
"I hate morning," Poppy mumbled. "And I'm sure I don't like being awakened by someone who looks so bloody pleased about it."
"I'm sorry." Continuing to smile, Amelia stroked her sister's hair away from her face repeatedly. — Lisa Kleypas

The time away from the asylum had not been kind to the old maniac. A slick lining of sunburnt skin and dirt caked his face. His smile was more crooked than ever and though he had grown a wild, wooly beard since his escape, it appeared the old maniac had shaved off his eyebrows and there was a bloody crater where his left ear once stood. — Kingfisher Pink

Maybe Hayli was a Moth, but for me she was the candle. I didn't know why. I could never make sense of the way the world tipped sideways when she came into the room, or the way her smile put the sun to shame. She was just Hayli - lost but confident, unsure but dazzling. A wild-eyed girl with the joy of the stars in her veins. — J. Leigh Bralick

Let's do something wild and crazy. Something...different." She licked her lips and he lost all train of thought. She opened her eyes wide and a sinful smile curved her lips. "I have a great idea!" She pressed closer to him and brushed her mouth over his. "Let's get hitched. — Milly Taiden

You're beautiful and wild and kind, and I can't stop thinking about you." A sunny, foolish smile breaks across his face. "It's wrong and stupid and wonderful, Zahra. I didn't mean for it to happen, but here I am. I love you. — Jessica Khoury

Audrey Griffin's eyes were wild, and she had a big smile as usual, and she was shaking a piece of paper at us. Her gray hair was coming out of its ponytail, and she was wearing clogs, and under her down vest you could see the pleats on her jeans bulging out. It was hard not to watch. — Maria Semple

Religion can emerge in all forms of feeling: here wild anger, there the sweetest pain; here consuming hatred, there the childlike smile of serene humility. — Karl Wilhelm Friedrich Schlegel

I just want you to see out there, where it's blue and wild and full of adventure. And then I want you to see in here, where there's a warm yellow glow and your family is making dinner and your mom and dad are dancing and your little sister is hoping that you'll throw a smile her way. — Melissa C. Walker

In night...
in night is when my mind is a flutter, and the world ablaze.
In night I see you, subtle, yet sure wrinkles in your smile and the echoes of your laugh.

In night
my mind tries to forget, but it is still there branded as etchings.

In night
my heart is set a fire thrashing to and fro from distant lands and seas.

You were a sailor but your anchor was no match for the wild waves and so you floated, but quickly sank.

And in night I write about a hundred moons and a hundred deaths. But they are all you.
For you are the sky and the wild seas.
And in night, I think, I will sail across your shore once again and once more. — Queenbe Monyei

Aunt Anne's lips quirked up in a smile. "Life is not a neat equation to be solved," she said. "It's messy and wild and unpredictable. That's the heartbreak of it, but that's also the glory of it. — Heather Vogel Frederick

Are you trying to tell me - in your own typically macho way - that you want to make love again?"
He glanced at her. "I'm not trying to tell you anything. I want you. You want me. Someone is going to end up wearing nothing but a satisfied smile on her lips."
"I don't know, Nick, I might talk afterward. Do you think you can handle it?"
"I can handle anything you can think up, and a few things you've probably
never even thought of."
"Do I have a choice?"
"Sure, wild thing. I have four bedrooms. You can choose which one we use first. — Rachel Gibson

Maybe it's easier to conform, to stay in a job I hate to pay bills of the things I don't even enjoy and marry a man I'm not passionately in love with, whilst surrounded by those who have absolutely no life to their smile but I don't want easy. I never have. I want a life so fucking grande' I reach every little milestone in sweats or tears knowing I Followed what was true to my heart. I don't care if I walk alone for the rest of my days, if it means I get to stay true to myself. — Nikki Rowe

I enjoy the wild things,
Call me at 3 am and tell me you're waiting at my door. Give me sunsets in different cities and road trips on dirt tracks not sighted on maps.
Whiskey for breakfast & cheap thrills for dinner.
Give me happiness in a smile and nothing of certainty but the way we make eachother feel.
There so much life in living while you're alive & id give absolutely anything to have it all with you. — Nikki Rowe

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

He turned his head and gazed at me, eyes dancing and blue, remnants of a smile dancing on his face.
How beautiful he looked. Unsullied by the world's darker secrets; privy to its innocent ones. I could almost believe he was inhuman and had never known anything beyond the profound simplicity of nature, tameless and wild, and the animal hearts that beat within each and every one of us. He was Pan and I was Daphnis. I never stood a chance. — Rose Christo

The key, I think, is to hold true to your own aesthetics, that which you value, and yield to no one the power to become the arbiter of your tastes. You must also learn to devise strategies for fending off both attackers and defenders. Exploit aggression, but only in self-defence, the kind of self-defence that announces to all the implacability of your armour, your self-assurance, and affirms the sanctity of your self-esteem. Attack when you must, but not in arrogance. Defend when your values are challenged, but never with the wild fire of anger. Against attackers, your surest defence is cold iron. Against defenders, often the best tactic is to sheathe your weapon and refuse the game. Reserve contempt for those who have truly earned it, but see the contempt you permit yourself to feel not as a weapon, but as armour against their assaults. Finally, be ready to disarm with a smile, even as you cut deep with words. — Steven Erikson

We cannot know his legendary head
with eyes like ripening fruit. And yet his torso
is still suffused with brilliance from inside,
like a lamp, in which his gaze, now turned to low,
gleams in all its power. Otherwise
the curved breast could not dazzle you so, nor could
a smile run through the placid hips and thighs
to that dark center where procreation flared.
Otherwise this stone would seem defaced
beneath the translucent cascade of the shoulders
and would not glisten like a wild beast's fur:
would not, from all the borders of itself,
burst like a star: for here there is no place
that does not see you. You must change your life. — Rainer Maria Rilke

~Almost like he can feel my eyes or my though on him, Trick turns around. His gaze locks with mine like there isn't a room full of people between us. We stare at each other for a few seconds and then, real slow, he grins.
Good god, he has dimples! I might die!
Right on cue, my cheeks get hot. Here we go again.
His grin widens into a smile and he winks at me. I'm pretty sure my toes are numb. I watch him turn away. Before his head completely disappears, I consider what Jenna said. Maybe I should go and ask for the treat... — M. Leighton

I wonder if he still hates me," Silas says as the cat edges out from the couch, pale green eyes like little limes in the dark. As if to answer Silas's question, Screwtape takes a flying leap onto his lap and begins to purr wildly.
"I'm not falling for this anymore," Silas says firmly. He moves to push Screwtape away, but as soon as his palms are within a few inches of Screwtape's wild fur, the cat extends his claws into Silas's thighs. Silas winces and muffles a yelp.
"Need some help?" I say, trying to hide my laughter.
"That'd be great," he answered tensely. I hurry over and scoop Screwtape into my arms. The cat instantly melts against me and rubs his face against mine, the scent of catnip on his breath. I crinkle my nose.
"Thanks." Silas sighs in relief. "I can hunt wolves, but it's a cat I can't handle. Not terrible manly of me, is it?"
"I won't tell anyone," I answer with a soft smile that he returns. — Jackson Pearce

Ooh baby, baby, it's a wild world, it's hard just to get by upon a smile. — Cat Stevens

Marcus gave her a slow, wicked smile, feeling the smoldering heat rise to the surface like molten lava, irresistible as a force of nature. "If you insist," he whispered, and bent his head to capture her lips with his own. He put all his yearning, all his gratitude for the gifts she'd given him, all that heat bubbling up within him into the kiss, feeling her lips yield beneath his.
She returned his fire with fire, kissing him back with a wild abandon that left them both trembling and enraptured, wrapped around each other in the midst of a crowd, focused only on each other.
Overhead, fireworks lit the sky, but neither of them noticed. — Deborah Blake

Dear Charles, she wrote.
After writing to express my appreciation for all the generosity of our friends, I would be remiss indeed if I did not include a missive to you. Out of all the new blessings in my new life, the one I thank God for the most is you. I thank you for writing to me through Genteel Correspondence, and for choosing me out of all the other women eager for adventure in the wild west.
I thank you for your kindness, and your gentleness toward me. Only very strong men can be gentle. I thank you for sharing your home and your life with me. I thank you for inventing delicious breakfasts. And chicory flavored coffee. And prayers that ease my mind and inspire my spirit and lift my heart. For your smile and the way you hold your hat in your hands. For the things you say and how you say them.
Did you know that I pray for you each day? I do. I pray for your safety and happiness.
Yours in Christ,
Rose — Jan Holly

Pete offered tobacco and paper, but Claude brought out his cigarettes and they both decided to try those. Pete provided the match. When he had their cigarettes burning strongly he turned to look back at the road, then straight up ahead. "We'll get there for supper if we get there," he said, and Claude laughed. Pete was a young man, but had a wild old grin stretched all out of shape in the corners and punched full of holes. — Douglas Woolf

I would rather have a month, or a week, or even a day with you than no time at all. There is something about you that makes my heart soar. I'm addicted to you. Your smell drives me crazy. Your kisses make me wild. And your smile makes me believe in angels. I don't need a promise of tomorrow when I'm with you, because today is all that matters. — J.S. Cooper

My mom believed that you make your own luck. Over the stove she had hung these old, maroon painted letters that spell out, "MANIFEST." The idea being if you thought and dreamed about the way you wanted your life to be
if you just envisioned it long enough, it would come into being.
But as hard as I had manifested Astrid Heyman with her hand in mine, her blue eyes gazing into mine, her lips whispering something wild and funny and outrageous in my ear, she had remained totally unaware of my existence. Truly, to even dream of dreaming about Astrid, for a guy like me, in my relatively low position on the social ladder of Cheyenne Mountain High, was idiotic. And with her a senior and me a junior? Forget it.
Astrid was just lit up with beauty: shining blonde ringlets, June sky blue eyes, slightly furrowed brow, always biting back a smile, champion diver on the swim team. Olympic level.
Hell, Astrid was Olympic level in every possible way. — Emmy Laybourne

At the same time he could hardly believe what he had been reading. It struck him as verging on madness. This wild confession, this owing to a crime so outlandish, so totally different from the true ones of mating and theft of the negroes, outraged him with its insolence and perversity. In the conflict of these feelings Erasmus was swept by doubt and loneliness. His whole being seemed under threat of dissolution. What became of law, of legitimacy, of established order, if a man could assume such attitudes of private morality, decide for himself where his fault lay? It turned everything upside down. He could think of nothing more damnable. And yet ... He remembered suddenly the second, rarer smile his cousin had, the one that came slowly, transforming his face. Briefly, unwillingly, Erasmus glimpsed the possibility of freedom. — Barry Unsworth

Looking' his last' upon the scene of his former joys and his later sufferings, and wishing 'she' could see him now, abroad on the wild sea, facing peril and death with a dauntless heart, going to his doom with a grim smile on his lips. — Mark Twain

Looking back few friends had we
but I've got him and he's got me.
And when the golden minute comes
when we no longer wake to smell
the river where the wild swans sailed
the orchard where the blossoms fell,
we'll smile a little thinkin' of that.
Me in my shirt-tails, him with his whiskers
me and the cat. — Rod McKuen

Do you know why they call this place the Rookery?" Elodin asked. I shook my head.
"Because it's where you go if you're a-ravin'." He smiled a wild smile. He laughed a terrible laugh. — Patrick Rothfuss

None of us is an Amberly, are we?" "I like shocking people too much," Celeste said with a smile.
"And I'd rather hide than do half the things she has to." Elise ducked her head.
"I'm too wild." I shrugged my shoulders, embracing my faults. "I'll never have her confidence," Kriss mourned.
"So there. We're all messed up. But Maxon has to pick one of us, so there's no point worrying anymore. — Kiera Cass

Richard Grierson smiles, but it's an inward-pointing smile, a smile of someone folding himself back up for storage in the colorful corners of his own crayon fantasies. She looks at the books, their titles hazy with a thin film of sawdust, and she looks at the toy ships built for imaginary journeys along the red dotted lines of a child's map, and she looks at the exotic pictures in the books still open flat before her, and she understands that these places are just places of the mind, and she wants to be able to exalt his wild dreams and imaginings along with her own - but there's something about them that make them feel like the saddest thing she's ever seen. — Alden Bell

He pressed a soft kiss down on the skin. I melted into a pool of desire, concealing it behind a demure smile. For such an innocent gesture, it overflowed with eroticism. My imagination was already running naked. I meant wild. My fully clothed imagination ran wild. — Sera Bright

The Poodle
The poodle -- nature's most perfect food -- was invented by Otto Van Plotsberg in 1872. According to Van Plotsberg he had only just begun experimenting with kinky hair and extra toes when he happened upon the formula for poodles. Van Plotsberg's first poodles sported only one leg -- a stumpy appendage protruding from the center of the body. These crude early versions (commonly inverted and used as hat stands) were soon abandoned in favor of the superior French model, which featured a winning smile and four limbs positioned strategically around the torso. Thus began the dizzying proliferation of the modern-day poodle -- hampered temporarily by a 1909 decree which stated that "Henceforth all poodles shall bear the name Svee," marking a slight decline in the population until the edict was overturned. Today, poodles inhabit every corner of the earth. Witness the African Killer Poodle, The Wild Poodles of Borneo, and the elusive Giant Swamp Poodle of Denchai. — Elyse Friedman

Drugs
to me
have always been
a pretty girl
with a sly smile
beckoning me
with a finger
down the dark path
of a fork in the road. — Atticus Poetry

Cat Steven's song Wild World: Oh Baby, baby, it's a wild world, it's hard to get by just on a smile, Oh baby, baby, it's a wild world and I'll always remember you like a child. — Jennifer Connors

You're sure you don't need me to walk you home? I say, lifting my eyebrow and giving her my most flirtatious smile.
She refuses but blushes deeply-hot pink spreading across her cheeks. As usual, I feel a wild rush of success. I love flirting more than food. Or even fighting. And evoking a blush is one of the most satisfying results I can hope for.
I like this girl, I find myself thinking. I'm actually looking forward to her being around. — Amy Plum

Enjoy, smile... wild... peace. — C. JoyBell C.

Whiskey Wendi," Kerrick said.
"Oh, yes," Loren said. A slow smile spread on his lips. "That was Grzebien? Wow that was ... a wild time."
"That was also over a year ago before Estrid and when the Booze Baron ruled the town. Do you really think the people would remember us?" Quain asked.
"Whiskey Wendi," Loren repeated, looking at Quain with a gleam in his eyes.
"Oh, yeah." Quain grinned. "Yeah, they'd remember. — Maria V. Snyder

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

Promise me, Lane," Rafe pleaded, letting me hear the depth of his anguish.
"Okay. I will," I said, hating the promise even as I made it. "But only if I hear about a feral infected tiger, which I won't because I'll be on the other side of the wall."
A smile touched Rafe's lips, genuine this time. "You'll be back. A fierce girl like you belongs on the wild side. — Kat Falls

And remembered - all he'd nearly forgotten, all her wild responses had driven from his mind. This was one seduction he had to, needed to, manage
perfectly - this time, there was meaning beyond the act. Seducing Patience Debbington was too important to rush - conquering her senses, her body,
was only the first step. He didn't want her just once - he wanted her for a lifetime. — Stephanie Laurens

A vast silence reigned over the land. The land itself was a desolation, lifeless, without movement, so lone and cold that the spirit of it was not even that of sadness. There was a hint in it of laughter, but of laughter more terrible than any sadness-a laughter that was mirthless as the smile of the Sphinx, a laughter cold as the frost and partaking of the grimness of infallibility. It was the masterful and incommunicable wisdom of eternity laughing at the futility of life and the effort of life. It was the Wild, the savage, frozen-hearted Northland Wild. — Jack London

I held it out and Caleb took it. This was the first book he had held in his hands. He made me smile, opening it upside down and back to front, but he touched the pages with the utmost care, as if gentling some fragile-boned wild thing. The godliest among us did not touch the Bible with such reverence as he showed to that small book. — Geraldine Brooks

He didn't smile. He cupped her face with both hands. An emotion tugged at his expression, a dark awe, the kind saved for a wild storm that rends the sky but doesn't ravage your existence, doesn't destroy every thing you love. The one that lets you feel saved. — Marie Rutkoski