Quotes & Sayings About Your Eyes And Smile

His blue eyes brightened with a smile. 'I did.' He looked over his shoulder, as if making sure her mom wasn't looking. The he pulled her against him and kissed her. A soft kiss.
'I got you something,' He whispered, his lips breathing words against hers.
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a ring. A gold ring with a large diamond. A beautiful, teardrop-shaped diamond that looked like an engagement ring. Kylie's breath caught.
'It was my grandmother's ring. In her letter she wrote you should have it. And before you start panicking, let me say that I know maybe we're too young to call it an engagement, That's why I got you this too.' He pulled out a gold chain 'I want you to wear it around your neck. Call it a promise- A promise that when you do slip a ring on that finger ... ' He ran his hand down to her left hand. 'That it'll be my ring.'
Emotion rose in her chest 'You don't have to give me anything for me to give you that promise. — C.C. Hunter

Do they have to be so public?" I say.
"She just kissed him." Al frowns at me. When he frowns, his thick eyebrows touch his eyelashes. "It's not like they're stripping naked."
"A kiss is not something you do in public."
Al, Will, and Christina all give me the same knowing smile.
"What?" I say.
"Your Abnegation is showing," says Christina. "The rest of us are all right with a little affection in public."
"Oh." I shrug. "Well ... I guess I'll have to get over it, then."
"Or you can stay frigid," says Will, his green eyes glinting with mischief. "You know. If you want. — Veronica Roth

I felt badly because I'd been nasty. After your behavior tonight, I only wish I'd been nastier. I can be," she added on a threat.
Alan only smiled as Mario brought the wine to the table. Watching Shelby, Alan tasted it, then nodded. "Very good. It's the sort of flavor that stays with you for hours. Later, when I kiss you,the taste will still be there."
The blood began to hum in her ears. "I'm only here because you dragged me."
To his credit, Mario didn't spill a drop of the wine he poured as he listened.
Her eyes heated as Alan continued to smile. "And since you refuse to give me my keys,I'll simply walk to the nearest phone and call a locksmith. You'll get the bill."
"After dinner," Alan suggested. "How do you like the wine?"
Scowling, Shelby lifted the glass and drained half the contents. "It's fine." Her eyes, insolent now, stayed level with his. "This isn't a date, you know."
"It's becoming more of a filibuster, isn't it? More wine? — Nora Roberts

You have the same smile, the same shaped eyes, the same way of tilting your head to listen, the same stubborn streak, the same common sense. Lots of things about you and him are the same. — Malorie Blackman

Gideon, you old dog, you have taken a mate," the Prince accused with humor sparkling from those fathomless eyes. "And I believe she finds me quite attractive."
Gideon heard Legna gasp in shock and tried to repress a feral smile as he became aware of the burning blush she sprouted.
"I would not cross that particular line even as a joke, Damien," Gideon warned him smoothly.
"My apologies. I could not resist." Damien looked steadily into Gideon's eyes for a moment. "She must be young, not to realize I would be able to read her presence within your mind."
"She is young, but I would not underestimate her if I were you. — Jacquelyn Frank

He moved toward her and cupped her face in his hands. "You are so beautiful that sometimes it hurts just to look at you. Your eyes are a thousand shades of brown and gold with hints of blue and green." He touched her cheekbones with thumbs. "Your freckles are like the girl-next-door fantasy brought to life. Your mouth is sexy and soft and when you smile, the world seems like a better place. Swear you'll never change anything. Swear it. — Susan Mallery

When you see a beautiful woman in the street, don't look at her hatefully as if you're about to kill her and don't exhibit excessive longing either; just give her a little smile, avert your eyes, and walk on [1974]. Taking — Orhan Pamuk

How will you use the years God gives you? Will you be remembered for being a fault-finder? Or will you be known for your quick smile, the laugh lines around your eyes, and the twinkle deep within? After all, God gives you your face, but you provide the expression! — Barbara Johnson

Monsters, monsters, big and small,
They're gonna come and eat you all.
Corsai, Corsai, tooth and claw,
Shadow and bone will eat you raw.
Malchai, Malchai, sharp and sly,
Smile and bite and drink you dry.
Sunai, Sunai, eyes like coal,
Sing you a song and steal your soul.
Monsters, monsters, big and small,
They're gonna come and eat you all! — Victoria Schwab

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

Juliette"
I inhale too quickly. A stifled cough is balloning in my throat.
His glassy green eyes glint in my direction.
"Are you not hungry?"
"No, thank you."
He licks his bottom lip into a smile.
"Don't confuse stupidity for bravery, love. I know you haven't eaten anything in days."
Something in my patioence snaps. "I'd rather die than eat your food and listen to you call me love," I tell him.
Adam drops his fork. Warner spares him a swift glance and when he looks at my way again his eyes have hardened. He holds my gaze fo a few infinitely long seconds before he pulls a gun out of his jacket pocket. He fires. — Tahereh Mafi

Let us begin this letter, this prelude to an encounter, formally, as a declaration, in the old-fashioned way: I love you. You do not know me (although you have seen me, smiled at me). I know you (although not so well as I would like. I want to be there when your eyes flutter open in the morning, and you see me, and you smile. Surely this would be paradise enough?). So I do declare myself to you now, with pen set to paper. I declare it again: I love you. — Neil Gaiman

And don't pay attention to Christina. Your face doesn't look that bad." He smiles a little. "I mean, it looks good. It always looks good. i mean
you look brave. Dauntless." His eyes skirt mine, and he scratches the back of his head. The silence grows between us. It was a nice thing to say, but he acts like it means more than just words. I hope I am wrong. I could not be attracted to Al
I could not be attracted to anyone that fragile. I smile as much as my bruised cheek will allow, hoping that will diffuse the tension. — Veronica Roth

my sweet old etcetera
aunt lucy during the recent

war could and what
is more did tell you just
what everybody was fighting

for,
my sister

isabel created hundreds
(and
hundreds) of socks not to
mention shirts fleaproof earwarmers

etcetera wristers etcetera, my

mother hoped that

i would die etcetera
bravely of course my father used
to become hoarse talking about how it was
a privilege and if only he
could meanwhile my

self etcetera lay quietly
in the deep mud et

cetera
(dreaming,
et
cetera, of
Your smile
eyes knees and of your Etcetera) — E. E. Cummings

Why? Don't you know why you love me?"
"I know that I'm happiest at your side," I said fervently. "I know that when we're apart, my heart is with you, when we disagree I still want you near. It's like I was made for you, amira, but I don't know why."
"Kashmir . . ." She laughed a little in disbelief. "That's . . . that's what love looks like."
"But is it only a trick of Navigation?" I asked, nearly pleading. "And if so, what is truly mine?"
"I am."
Her words took me by surprise. She said it so simply - so quiet, so true. Only two words, three letters, one breath, but never had a promise held more meaning. She turned to me then, and in her eyes, I saw not oblivion, but infinity, and the stars were not as bright as her smile. — Heidi Heilig

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

I'm so sorry we've kept this for such a long time," she said, pulling the watch from her skirt pocket. She unfolded Mother's handkerchief from around it, and offered it to Lord Bradford cradled in her hands. "We shouldn't have taken it in the first place."
Lord Bradford's eyebrows rose at the offering, and he opened his mouth, then closed it. He lowered his eyes to the books in his hands, then back to Azalea, and he managed a smile.
"When we first met," he said, "ages ago, you gave me a candy stick. Just like you did now, with your hands like that. Do you remember?"
Azalea raised an eyebrow.
"It happened when my father had just died," he said, quietly. "You came to the graveyard, licking a candy stick. You saw me. You put the stick in my hands, folded my fingers over it, and kissed my fingertips."
"That must have been sticky," said Azalea. — Heather Dixon

After Reason had left the dining room, Valor's mouth softened into smile. "Let us know if you have any symptoms."
"Symptoms?" I asked, and jerked my gaze to his eyes. "What kind of symptoms?"
"Tell us if your fingernails turn to stone," Victor chuckled. — Taylor Longford

Did A tell you your eyes remind me of blown glass? I can see your soul through those eyes, Amy. They get darker when you're trying to be sexy and shine when you smile. And when you think you're in trouble you blink double the amount that you usually do. And when your sad the corners of your eyes turn down. I miss your eyes. And I don't want the sad ones to be my last memory of you. — Simone Elkeles

I'd been unable to stop questioning if I knew what I was doing, even just kissing, and I'd sort of sheepishly apologized for my inexperience. Lucius had drawn back, a strange look in his eyes and a half smile on his lips as he'd said, 'I don't think I could allow another man who'd touched you to continue walking this earth. The only reason Zinn survives is the debt that I owe him.' He'd smiled a little more broadly, joking, 'Your inexperience saves lives, Antanasia. — Beth Fantaskey

Allow me to give you this orange, Your Highness, along with my wishes for a swift recovery."
"That's very generous of you, Master Galen," she replied, a faint light kindling in her eyes, "especially since they are my family's oranges." She took it from him, rolling it between her palms. "And considering that my illness if most likely a result of falling into the fountain the day we met."
Galen winced. He had known she would remember that, but he had hoped she wouldn't hold it against him. Although, judging by the faint smile on her pale lips, she didn't mean it in earnest.
"Well, Your Highness, I know that I am indeed handsome, but I can hardly be blamed if my good looks overcame you so strongly that you fainted," he said, striking a pose. — Jessica Day George

Greet everyone you meet with a warm smile. No matter how busy you are, don't rush encounters with coworkers, family, and friends. Speak softly. Listen attentively. Act as if every conversation you have is the most important thing on your mind today. Look your children and your partner in the eyes when they talk to you. Stroke the cat, caress the dog. Lavish love on every living being you meet. See how different you feel at the end of the day ... — Sarah Ban Breathnach

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

He began quietly, "You recall, of course, that I won the Smallwood spelling contest every year I was there?" "Yes, Mr. Weston," she replied evenly, eyes remaining on the portrait. "And you might also recall that your father declared my handwriting the best he'd ever had the privilege to read?" "Yes, Mr. Weston." He looked at her composed profile and felt admiration fill him. When she said no more, he slowly shook his head, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth. "Well done, Miss Smallwood." He started to turn away but paused to add, "He did admire you, you know. He just didn't know how to show it." She gave him an incredulous look. "Mr. Pugsworth?" "Yes," Henry said, then walked away, thinking, Him too. — Julie Klassen

When you are inquisitive, Jane, you always make me smile. You open your eyes like an eager bird, and make every now and then a restless movement, as if answers in speech did not flow fast enough for you, and you wanted to read the tablet of one's heart. — Charlotte Bronte

They send a person who can never stay,: she whispered. "Who can never accept my offer of companionship for more than a little while. They send me a hero I can't help ... Just the sort of person I can't help falling in love with." The night was quiet except for the gurgle of the fountains and waves lapping on the shore. It took me a long time to realize what she was saying. "Me?" I asked. "If you could see your face." She suppressed a smile, though her eyes were still teary. "Of course, you." "That's why you've been pulling away all this time?" "Itried very hard. But I can't help it. The Fates are cruel. They sent you to me, my brave one, knowing that you would break my heart." "But ... I'm just ... I mean, I'm just me." "That is enough," Calypso promised. — Rick Riordan

At the negotiations in Irvine, it became clear to me that there was no side I could stand on. The English despise me and my countrymen don't trust me. Wallace and the others are rebelling in the name of Balliol. I cannot fight with them. It would be as much a betrayal of my oath as when I was fighting for England. I know what I must do. What I should have done months ago.'
Robert felt embarrassed, about to say the words. Inside, his father's voice berated him, but he silenced it. 'I want you to weave my destiny,' he finished. 'As you did for my grandfather.'
When she spoke, her voice was low. 'And what is your destiny?'
He met her eyes now, all hesitation and embarrassment gone. 'To be King of Scotland.'
A smile appeared at the corners of her mouth. It wasn't a soft smile. It was hard and dangerous. 'I will need something of yours,' she said, rising. — Robyn Young

Close your eyes," Marcus said, his hand moving to her bottom in a circling caress. He brushed his mouth over her forehead and her fragile eyelids. "Rest. You'll need to regain your strength ... because once we're married, I won't be able to leave you alone. I'll want to love you every hour, every minute of the day." He nestled her more closely against him. "There is nothing on earth more beautiful to me than your smile ... no sound sweeter than your laughter ... no pleasure greater than holding you in my arms. I realized today that I could never live without you, stubborn little hellion that you are. In this life and the next, you're my only hope of happiness. Tell me, Lillian, dearest love ... how can you have reached so far inside my heart?" He paused to kiss her damp silken skin ... and smiled as the wisp of a feminine snore broke the peaceful silence. — Lisa Kleypas

Carla might recognize herself in the lean girls against the bar, the girls in slender-cut suits with silver rings on each finger and thumb who looked so compact and secretive, so much as if all their essences were perfectly locked and kept, and only if you managed to please them could you unlock their fingers and pry them out. They smelled of a different perfume, they never quite met your eyes except in a swift and thorough appraisal whose conclusion you became aware of immediately when their eyes averted without the longed-for approving smile. You longed to go with them to secret apartments in the suburbs or condos on the lakeshore and there have their fingers brush down your back and have their maroon mouths kiss your thighs. — Dionne Brand

The first stanza of Eyes In Moonlight Drown, a poem from DeadVerse.

With your face framed in a halo of stars,
your hair melts into trailing clouds,
and your eyes in moonlight drown.
A man could lose himself
in those freckled irises,
reflecting the galaxies above;
surely he could fall into their promise
of eternity, of Heaven, of love.
Your lips glisten, part, and beckon,
a smile of warm invitation,
a suggestion of sweet intensity,
a loss of self in addictive agony.
For we translate these aesthetics
into something mystical;
ideas of fantasy, of fiction,
obscuring the clinical truth
of chemical reactions,
electric sparks, responses
as sure as gravity,
measurable yet beyond cold,
above philosophy and below truth. — Scott Kaelen

My Heart Cries

My heart cries, but you don't hear it.
My heart breaks, but you don't feel it.
My body longs to feel your arms around me.
My lips long to feel your kisses.
My ears long to hear you say I love you.
My eyes long to see your smile and eyes twinkle.
My life longs to have you in it.
My world longs to have you make it complete.
My body longs to feel you lie next to it.
My love longs to have you return it.
My heart will cry, my heart will break.
My body will go limp, my lips will only speak.
My ears will miss your words, my eyes will shed tears.
My life will be so lonely, my world will be so empty.
My love will go unreturned.
My heart aches as my life is turned inside out.
My mind will never forget, my heart will never let go.
I have loved you since the day I met you
But now my heart cries, and you don't hear it. — Kelly Gray

You're serious? You want me to go to school?"
"Why not?" he challenged. "So long as you take care of shit around here, I'm fine with it. Might want to move on that whole divorce thing too while you're at it. Club's got a lawyer, I'll set up an appointment for you. I can pretty much guarantee your ex won't put up a fight."
He smiled when he said it - not a nice smile.
"Okay, I'll go check it out," I said slowly. "This is weird, you get that? You kidnapping me, holding me hostage and then sending me to school? This isn't how things like this usually work."
Horse grinned at me, eyes lazy and satisfied.
"Just roll with it," he whispered. "And keep doing whatever exercises you do to make your cunt squeeze like that. They got a college degree for that? — Joanna Wylde

How about I take you to my studio? Much less dangerous. Plus, I need a model and you could sit for me."
"You want me to sit for a portrait?" I asked stunned.
"Actually, at the moment I'm concentrating on full-length nudes, in the spirit of Modigliani," Jules said. He was making an effort to keep a straight face. "Just kidding, Kates. You're a lady."
Jules was trying the guilt-trip method of attack. And it was working.
"Ok I'll pose for you," I conceded. "But under no circumstances will any article of clothing leave my body whilst I am in your studio."
"And if you're elsewhere?" he asked, breaking into a sly smile.
I rolled my eyes. — Amy Plum

I found something for you." He ignored the pangs of hunger and lowered himself to one knee before her. Her eyes widened. He swung his hand around from behind his back and held out a lone orchid the same shade as the moon overhead. And once again, he wished he knew what to say, how to talk to her, how to be more sophisticated. Instead, he thrust it before her. She tentatively took it from him and lifted questioning eyes. "For your collection of specimens," he offered. Her fingers caressed the drooping petals. "I think it's a yellow lady's slipper." He didn't know nor did he care. He only knew that he wanted one of her rare smiles. For a long intense moment, he held his breath. Finally her lips curved into a smile. "Thank you." His pulse jolted forward and he swallowed hard. "You're welcome." What was happening to him? Why did he want to make her happy? When she lifted the flower to her nose and took a deep breath, her smile moved to her eyes . . . And to his heart. — Jody Hedlund

Let no one ever come to you without leaving better and happier. Be the living expression of God's kindness: kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile. — Mother Teresa

The thing I get out of it is the connection. I remember going to shows as a kid and meeting eyes with the people in the band, and knowing they are meeting eyes with you, and that moment, that smile, and that's your moment. I want to create millions of little moments for other people. — Joan Jett

Tell me about your master."
I nod. "He is eighth in line to the throne, the son of - "
"No, no," Caspida interrupts irritably. "Tell me what he is like."
"He is a gambler," I say. There is no point in lying about these things. "He is bold, but reckless. Brave, but impetuous. A man who . . . holds grudges." Pausing, I finish in a whisper, "He would risk his life to save someone else, without even thinking twice."
Caspida turns her head a bit, interest growing in her eyes. "And he sets out on a mad voyage and sails straight into a nest of jinn."
"My master is noble," I say with a smile, "but I made no suggestions as to his intelligence. — Jessica Khoury

Bing tightened his fingers around hers...."I know what I want."
She raised an eyebrow. "What is that?"
"Only you." And as he said the words, he felt a tremendous weight lifting from his chest. "It's always been only you..."
"All right." She narrowed her eyes. "But if you break my heart, I'm going to have Peaches have words with you."
"That's threatening a police officer. Technically."
"What are you going to do?" She flashed him a teasing smile. "Arrest me?"
He bent his head to hers, all the way to her ear. "Stick with me and there might just be some handcuffs in your future," he whispered.
She laughed out loud. "I'll take that as an incentive to speedily recover. — Dana Marton

Izzy," said Jace, as they neared the pond, and she jumped up and spun around. Her smile was dazzling.
"Jace!" She flew at him and hugged him. Now that was the way sisters were supposed to act, Clary thought. Not all stiff and weird and peculiar, but happy and loving. Watching Jace hug Isabelle, she tried to school her features into a happy and loving expression.
"Are you all right?" Simon asked, with some concern. "Your eyes are crossing."
"I'm fine." Clary abandoned the attempt.
"Are you sure? You looked sort of ... contorted. — Cassandra Clare

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

You are funny like a kid and awesome like a princess
Unseen like an angel, like the morning sunshine ...
Kindness like a river and highness like a mountain,
In the middle of the Rheine, the cute face and sweet lips ...
(La la la la, La la , mmmm , mm ... )
Keep the lovely smile, in your juicy icy eyes
Open the heaven for my eyes, forever angel voice
Never angry never harsh, never mad never marsh
Dear or darling, either diamond or dime,
Overall the dream of the world — M.F. Moonzajer

It hurts," he whispered, his hands falling to his sides. "All the time. Even when I try." Tears warmed my eyes, and I pulled back so I could look at him. "It will stop one day," I said as I gave his shoulders a squeeze. "Even without your trying, and then you'll feel guilty. After that, you'll wake up one morning, remember her, and smile. — Kim Harrison

Those gray eyes slid back to her. "Your shower big enough for two?"
"Yes, but the cats don't like to get wet. Neither does the
guinea pig. But you might have some success with the lizard."
Bad, bad move. Because both corners of his mouth were
getting in on the smile action. He moved them one at a time, first the right corner, then a slow follow from the left corner.
And then he showed his dimple. — Jamie Farrell

Kaldar smiled at her. Now there was a work of art. If she were just a girl and he were just a man, and they met at a party, that smile would've guaranteed him a date. The man was hot. There was no doubt. But right now, all it would get him was a solid punch in those even teeth.
Audrey laughed. "Aren't you sweet? Tell me, do girls usually throw their panties at you when you do that?"
He grinned wider, and she glimpsed the funny evil spark in his eyes. "Do men throw money when you do your little Southern belle? — Ilona Andrews

And the next time you choose to project into my dreams, do keep your clothes on." He smiled. It was a very male, self-aware smile, not just sexual but carnal. The predatory look in his eyes turned ravaging. I felt the need to grab a napkin and hold it in front of me like a shield. "I can project, but I would have to be next to you to do it." Oh crap. — Ilona Andrews

Open your eyes and say my name."
I squeeze them shut more tightly.
"It would make my cock hard to hear you say my name."
My eyes pop open. "Jericho Barrons," I say sweetly.
He makes a pained sound. "Bloody hell, woman, I think a part of me wants to keep you this way."
I touch his face. "I like how I am. I like how you are, too. When you are ... What is that word you used? Cooperating."
"Tell me to fuck you."
I smile and comply. We're back in territory I understand.
"You didn't say my name. Say my name when you tell me to fuck you."
"Fuck me, Jerricho Barrons."
"From now on, you will call me Jericho Barrons every time you speak to me. — Karen Marie Moning

She realized she'd been staring only when he said, his voice lower and huskier, "Who are you looking for?"
His words snapped her out of her terrible trance. "I ... I ... " she thought furiously and said the only thing that came to mind. "For you. I was looking for you."
Suspicion flashed in his sea-blue eyes. "In the rigging?"
"Yes. Why not?"
"Either you're very ignorant about what a captain does, or you're lying. Why is it?"
Ignoring the plummeting sensation in her stomach, she forced a smile to her face. "Really, Gideon, you are so suspicious. Last night you accused me of plotting behind your back, and this morning you accuse me of lying. Who else would I be looking for but you? — Sabrina Jeffries

Remember children, once I am gone I will be part of it all
Everything will be me and together be free
The songs of the birds will be my voice in joyous refrain
The caress of the soft summer breeze will be my touch from afar
The sunset in glorious golden red hues, my display of love
The soft murmur of the stream as it lulls you to sleep my lullaby
Close your eyes and open your heart that I may touch you.
There shall I dwell ever close, embracing you with every beat of your heart
Smile and feel the joy I share now with you. — Neil Leckman

I will love you always. When this red hair is white, I will still love you. When the smooth softness of youth is replaced by the delicate softness of age, I will still want to touch your skin. When your face is full of the lines of every smile you have ever smiled, of every surprise I have seen flash through your eyes, when every tear you have ever cried has left its mark upon your face,I will treasure you all the more, because I was there to see it all. I will share your life with you, Meredith, and I will love you until the last breath leaves your body or mine. — Laurell K. Hamilton

I'm not a complete idiot, you know," I tell him. "I do think about alternatives if things were to change in Westfall."
Bishop swings his legs off the sofa and sits forward, facing me. "I have never, not for a single second, thought you were an idiot, Ivy."
"You listen to your father, too, don't you?" I ask him.
Bishop looks down at his clasped hands, then back up at me. "Sometimes I just think that because of who we are... the president's son and the founder's daughter..." He rolls his eyes, making me smile. "It's doubly important that we think for ourselves. We're not our parents. We don't have to agree with everything they stand for. — Amy Engel

Ellie I have never in life ... ever sweetheart ... experienced these feelings that i have for you. You walk into a room and i have to catch my breath at the sight of you. You flash your beautiful smile at me and there's not a damn thing in this world I wouldnt do for you. Your laugh moves through my body like a jolt of electricity. Your eyes captivate mine; your lips bring me to my knee's. I want to know every part of you Ellie. I'm just as confused by these feelings as you are sweetheart but i want you to know something, I'll never push you or give up on us I promise you that. Please Ellie just let me in. Let me prove to you how much i want to be with you — Kelly Elliott

Close your eyes. Let a smile as big bright and bold as a disco chorus blaze across your face. Fall in love with the universe and everything in it. See yourself for one moment as the subject of every love song ever written. And as she drifts to sleep beside you, start a brand new song. — J.C. Lillis

The moment the two men entered, she leapt from her seat, knelt, and bowed her head.

"Hey! Watch it, that's a new dress," Hadrian said with a smile.

"Oh!" She scrambled to her feet, blushing, then curtsied and bowed her head once more.

"What's she doing?" Royce whispered to Hadrian.

"Not sure," he whispered back.

"I'm trying to show the proper reverence, Your Lordships," she whispered to both of them while keeping her head down. "I'm sorry if I'm not very good at it."

Royce rolled his eyes and Hadrian began to laugh.

"Why are you whispering?" Hadrian asked her.

"Because you two were. — Michael J. Sullivan

Well, you've got the growling part down pat already. Probaly all those years of practice."
He began to rise, his legs wobbly.
"All right, I'm coming back. I just didn't want to be in your way."
A grunt. Your not. Or that's what I hoped he meant.
"You can understand me, can't you?" I said as I returned to sit on his discarded sweatshirt. "You know what I'm saying."
He tried to nod, then snarled at the awkwardness of it.
"Not easy when you can't talk, is it?" I grinned. "Well, not easy for you. I could get used to it."
He grumbled, but I coulld see the relief in his eyes, like he was glad to see me smile.
"So I was right, wasn't I? It's still you even if wolf form."
He grunted.
"No sudden urges to go kill something?"
He rolled his eyes.
"Hey, you're the one who was worried." I paused. "And I don't smell like dinner, right?"
I got a real good look for that one.
"Just covering my bases. — Kelley Armstrong

The week passed by swiftly, like a dream ... a dream where minutes flew as rapidly as heartbeats. Such a breathless week when something within her drove Scarlett with mingled pain and pleasure to pack and cram every minute with incidents to remember after he was gone, happenings which she could examine at leisure in the long months ahead, extracting every morsel of comfort from them - dance, sing, laugh, fetch and carry for Ashley, anticipate his wants, smile when he smiles, be silent when he talks, follow him with your eyes so that each line of his erect body, each lift of his eyebrows, each quirk of his mouth, will be indelibly printed on your mind - for a week goes by so fast and the war goes on forever. — Margaret Mitchell

If I were you," he said with a wink and a smile as his eyes swept over those who's started the discussion, "I would waste far less time ragging on religion and find out just how much Jesus wants to be your friend without any strings attached. He will care for you and if given a chance will become more real to you than your best friend, and you will cherish him more than anything else you desire. He will give you a purpose and a fullness of life that will carry you through every stress and pain and will change you from the inside to show you what true freedom and joy really are. — Wayne Jacobsen

Miss Ellis?" Mrs. Perterson says. "It's your turn. Introduce Alex to the class"
"This is Alejandro Fuentes. When he wasn't hanging out on street corners and harrassing innocent people this summer, he toured the inside of jails around the city, if you know what i mean. His secret desire is to go to college and become a chemistry teacher, like you Mrs. Peterson."
Brittney flashed me a triumpnet smile, thinking she won this round. Guess again, gringa. "This is Brittney Ellis," I say, all eyes focused on me. "This summer she went to the mall, bought new clothes to extend her wardrobe, and spent her daddy's money on plastic surgery to enhance her, ahem, assets. Her secret desire is to date a Mexicano before she graduates."
Game on ... — Simone Elkeles

Monsieur Foinet got up and made as if to go, but he changed his mind, and, stopping, put his hand on Philip's shoulder.
"But if you were going to ask me my advice, I should say: take your courage in both hands and try your luck at something else. It sounds very hard, but let me tell you this: I would give all I have in the world if someone had given me that advice when I was your age and I had taken it."
Philip looked up at him with surprise. The master forced his lips into a smile, but his eyes remained grave and sad.
"It is cruel to discover one's mediocrity only when it's too late. It does not improve the temper."
He gave a little laugh as he said the last words and quickly walked out of the room. — W. Somerset Maugham

I swear you don't know how to have any fun at all," I teased.
"This is not exactly my idea of it," he said wryly.
I gestured toward the ballroom. "But you're royal. It's your kind of party. You should be relaxed, letting everyone suck up to you."
He laughed and my chest tightened. God, I loved that sound.
"Kendra, not everything about being royal is enjoyable."
"So what would you consider fun?" I asked, curious.
Tristan was obviously well-liked and respected. But I'd never seen him when he wasn't in either instructor, gardinel, or prince mode. I got the feeling he wasn't very social and spent a lot of time alone.
His eyes turned thoughtful. "Relaxing in a quiet room with a nice glass of scotch, listening to Bach."
I rolled my eyes. "Are you serious, grandpa?"
He hid a smile. — Emma Raveling

Would you like to see where I will build your house, m'lady?"
She grinned. "You mean our house?"
He mirrored her smile. "Aye."
Taking her hand, he led her along the path to the mouth of the River Coe. They stood on a curved peninsula high above the river where it would be free from floods. Hugh spread his arms wide and looked across Loch Leven. "The hills of Glencoe will be our backdrop, the river of the Coe will be our music, and our galleys will sail through the water of the Leven to Loch Linnhe and out to sea. Mark me, my love, Clan Iain Abrach will rebuild, and will once again rule these lands."
He looked into her eyes and saw joy there. "And you will be my queen. — Amy Jarecki

Don't you want to know my name?" he asked, grabbing the ketchup bottle without taking his eyes off of me.
"Sure. What's your name?"
"You don't sound genuinely interested."
"I'm not begging if that's what you're waiting for."
Throwing his head back, he let out a deep rolling laugh before focusing his dark gaze on me again. "I wouldn't mind seeing you beg," he said then added when I frowned, "Cooper."
"Anyone ever call you Coop the Poop or Poopy Coopy?" I asked, messing with him because his iron stare made me nervous.
"No," he muttered.
"Not to your face anyway."
A smile lifted the corner of his mouth and his gaze softened. "No, not to my face."
"I guess there are benefits to being scary. — Bijou Hunter

He bent and whispered against her ear. "Stay close, Erienne. The towel has come loose. If you step away, it is at your own risk."
Clenching her eyes tightly shut, she buried her face against his shoulder to hide the crimson tides that swept over her and clung to him with a panic born of desperation.
Unable to see his face, she missed the smile that widened his lips.
-Christopher & Erienne — Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

Josey shook her head, thinking, if Della Lee were a candy, she would be a SweeTart. Not the hard kind that broke your teeth, the chewy kind, the kind you had to work on and mull over, your eyes watering and your lips turning up into a smile you didn't want to give. — Sarah Addison Allen

Sunset's Passions," he read, and opened the book to a random page to read aloud. "'His hands gently caressed her ivory, silky br- " His eyes widened. "By the Wyrd! Do you actually read this rubbish? What happened to Symbols of Power and Eyllwe Customs and Culture?"
...
"You may borrow it when I'm done. If you read it, your literary experience will be complete. And," she added with a coy smile, "it will give you some creative ideas of things to do with your lady friends. — Sarah J. Maas

I wish I had a brush that could paint the whole sky and turn every morning into night. I wish I could always sleep next to you in the never ending night and hold your hand, watching the reflection of all the stars in your eyes, while you smile and watch them in the sky with wonder. — Akshay Vasu

He will choose you, disarm you with his words, and control you with his presence. He will delight you with his wit and his plans. He will show you a good time but you will always get the bill. He will smile and deceive you, and he will scare you with his eyes. And when he is through with you, and he will be through with you, he will desert you and take with him your innocence and your pride. You will be left much sadder but not a lot wiser, and for a long time you will wonder what happened and what you did wrong. And if another of his kind comes knocking on your door, will you open it?

-From an essay signed "A psychopath in prison — Robert D. Hare

Thank you," he said.
I blinked. "What?"
A funny little smile played out across his lips. "Thank you for trusting me with this."
My mouth gaped.
"It's a big deal." His lashes lifted and his eyes met mine. "What we did. It was your first time. I'm honored."
Was this real?
"So thank you."
Jax closed the distance between us, melding our lips together in what had to have been the sweetest kiss possible, and I realized this was real. Not some orgasm-induced hallucination, and there was truly no wonder why I'd fallen for him. — J. Lynn

A life well lived is the best antidote to that fatal truth. Be active, not a passive worrywart. Find magic in the moment, joy in making someone smile. Listen to a lover's sigh; look into the dancing eyes of a child you made feel special. Most of all, marvel at the wonder that eons of evolutionary time and all your unique experiences have joined to comprise the symphony that is YOU. — Philip G. Zimbardo

i am confident i am over you. so much that some mornings i wake up with a smile on my face and my hands pressed together thanking the universe for pulling you out of me. thank god i cry. thank god you left. i would not be the empire i am today if you had stayed.

but then.

there are some nights i imagine what i might do if you showed up. how if you walked into the room this very second every awful thing you've ever done would be tossed out the closet window and all the love would rise up again. it would pour through my eyes as if it never really left in the first place. as if it's been practicing how to stay silent so long only so it could be this loud on your arrival. can someone explain that. how even when the love leaves. it doesn't leave. how even when i am so past you. i am so helplessly brought back to you. — Rupi Kaur

C, it was like my breath was stolen. My heart seemed to merge with yours. When you came into my life, all I wanted was you. All I thought about was you. Your smile, your laugh, your lips, and your eyes seemed to hold me captive."


~Tru~ — J.L. Clayton

Psychopaths have a grandiose self-structure which demands a scornful and detached devaluation of others, in order to ward off their envy toward the good perceived in other people. He will choose you, disarm you with his words, and control you with his presence. He will delight you with his wit and his plans. He will show you a good time but you will always get the bill. He will smile and deceive you, and he will scare you with his eyes. And when he is through with you, and he will be through with you, he will desert you and take with him your innocence and your pride. — Robert D. Hare

You have no reason to be sorry for anything, ma petite."
Her clenched fist lay over his heart, the three diamonds in her palm. "You think I can't read your body? Feel the heaviness in your mind as you try to shield me? I can't change who I am, not even for you. I know I'm failing you, causing you discomfort."
A slow smile curved his mouth. Discomfort. Now,there was a word for it. His hand crushed her hair, ran it through his fingers. "I have never asked you to change, nor would I want you to. You seem to forget that I know you better than anyone. I can handle you."
She turned her head so that he could see the silver stars flashing in her blue eyes, a smoldering warning. "You are so arrogant,Gregori, it makes me want to throw things.Do you hear yourself? Handle me? Ha! I try to say I'm sorry for failing you, and you act the lord of the manor. Being born centuries ago when women were chattel does not give you an excuse. — Christine Feehan

If all goes well, we will be back in time for a proper memorial service [for your father], Ben. I promise."

Ben looked up, and all the bitterness was gone from his eyes, replaced somehow by both resignation and determination.

"And if all doesn't go well?" he asked, tightening his grip on Coralee's trusting hand as he led her outside to the driveway.

Kira's flawless features morphed into something like a smile, yet wholly without happiness or humor.

"Then you'll all be meeting up with [your father] soon enough, I expect. Either that, or you shall wish it was so. — Caitlin Rush

Perhaps we should spice up our next wager."
A wary look entered her blue eyes. "How?"
"By wagering your mother's necklace against ... your clothing."
She froze, her arms over her head, her eyes wide. "My clothing?"
"Yes. Your gown-against your mother's neckace." His body was already hard at the thought of her standing before him in nothing but her chemise and stockings.
Sophia lowered her arms with a teasing smile. "I doubt it will fit you."
A surprised laugh broke from him. "That would be a sight. But to be crystal clear, if I win this hand, you will disrobe for me. — Karen Hawkins

She can kill with a smile. She can wound with her eyes. She can ruin your faith with her casual lies. And she only reveals what she wants you to see. She hides like a child, but she's always a woman to me. — Billy Joel

Patch's eyes made a slow assessment of me, sharpening to vivid black. "I'm going to have a hard time sending you off with Scott in that dress. Just a heads-up: If you come home and the dress looks even slightly tampered with, I will track Scott down, and when I find him, it won't be pretty."
"I'll relay the message."
"If you tell me where he's hiding, I'll relay it myself."
I had to work not to smile. "Something tells me your message would be a lot more direct."
"Let's just say he'd get the point. — Becca Fitzpatrick

[The maid] went on and on about how you and three casks of wine and three women spent the week before our wedding trying to...you know"--Adrienne muttered an unintelligible word--"your brains out."
"To what my brains out?"
"You know." Adrienne rolled her eyes.
"I'm afraid I don't. What was that word again?"
"Adrienne looked at him sharply. Was he teasing her? Were his eyes alight with mischief? That half-smile curving his beautiful mouth could absolutely melt the sheet she was clutching, not to mention her will. "Apparently one of them succeeded, because if you had any brains left you'd get out of my sight now," she snapped.
"It wasn't three." Hawk swallowed a laugh.
"No?"
"It was five."
"Adrienne's jaw clenched. She held her fingers up again. "Fourth--this will be a marriage in name only. Period."
"Casks of wine, I meant."
"You are not funny. — Karen Marie Moning

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

You reach a certain age when reality grabs you by the scruff of the neck and shouts in your face:"Hey, look, this is what life is." And you have to open your eyes and look at it, listen to it, smell it: people who don't like you, things you don't want to do, things that hurt, things that scare you, questions without answers, feelings you don't understand, feelings you don't want but have no control over.
Reality.
When you gradually come to realise that all that stuff in books, films, television, magazines, newspapers, comics - it's all rubbish. It's got nothing to do with anything. It's all made up. It doesn't happen like that. It's not real. It means nothing. Reality is what you see when you look out of the window of a bus: dour faces, sad and temporary lives, millions of cars, metal, bricks, glass, rain, cruel laughter, ugliness, dirt, bad teeth, crippled pigeons, little kids in pushchairs who've already forgotten how to smile ... — Kevin Brooks

I confess I like a woman to have a certain amount of temper. I can not endure your preternaturally amiable female, who can find nothing in the length or breath of the globe to move to any other expression than a fatuous smile. I love to see the danger flash in bright eyes, the delicate quiver in of pride in the lines of a lovely mouth, and the warm flush of indignation on fair cheeks. It all suggests spirit, and untamed will; and rouse in a man the love of mastery that is born in his nature, urging him to conquer and subdue that which seems unconquerable. — Marie Corelli

I want to be that guy you can't ever take out of your head, Rachel. The one you've been waiting for. I want you to have eyes just for me and smile just for me and a tone of voice only I will hear. — Katy Evans

He was not quite sure how to phrase it, so he finally went with,
haltingly, "I don't enjoy being at the center of attention."
Her head tilted to the side, she regarded him for a long moment
before saying, "No. You don't." And then: "You were always a
tree."
"I beg your pardon?"
Her eyes grew sentimental. "When we performed our awful
pantomimes as children. You were always a tree."
"I never had to say anything."
"And you always got to stand at the back."
He felt himself smile, lopsided and true. "I rather liked being a
tree."
"You were a very good tree." She smiled then, too - a radiant,
wondrous thing. "The world needs more trees. — Julia Quinn

Aidan: "From the moment I laid eyes on her she was trouble to my concentration, my libido, and my mental health. After six weeks of pursuit, I'd trapped her between my upraised arms against a book case, somewhere betwixt Shakespeare and Voltaire. "I want the witchcraft in your lips," I'd whispered. Instead of arguing, she grabbed me by the ears. She'd been soft lips, liberal tongue and nipping teeth. I'd contributed a willing body and a vulgar groan. She'd drawn away, licked her lips and ducked underneath my arms. When she was about three yards from me, she's tilted her head up like a siren on the bow of a ship and pursed a devil-may-care smile at me before she bowed. She'd challenged me to pursue her, and I'd intended to, but when I pushed off, the bookcase fell backwards. I tumbled into a heap of literary tombs. I could still hear her laughing when the library's elevator door chimed closed. — Elizabeth Marx

Perhaps you don't see yourself in animation," he said with a smile. "It's true your features are quite ordinary, but they become lively when you talk and you have what are called 'speaking eyes.' They shine with the light of your quick mind. — Jo Beverley

If I could hold your heart I would keep it safe. Even when I trip and fall, and even when I break down, I would hold your heart close to mine, so it doesn't see the same damage. When I bruise my knees and scrape my palms you'll never have to fear, and even if I cry, I promise, you won't need to shed a tear. Love is everlasting. Loyalty is intertwined with faith. As long as you want me I will be here, standing with my palms out, waiting with my heart plain in my eyes, and a smile on my face. — Jennifer Megan Varnadore

So Captain Jack's come a-courtin'." Her hands stilled on the basket. "Who?" "The tall Shawnee who come by your cabin." The tall one. Lael felt a small surge of triumph at learning his name. Captain Jack. Oddly, she felt no embarrassment. Lifting her shoulders in a slight shrug, she continued pulling the vines into a tight circle. "He come by, but I don't know why." "Best take a long look in the mirror, then." Lael's eyes roamed the dark walls. Ma Horn didn't own one. "Beads and a blanket, was it?" She nodded and looked back down. "I still can't figure out why some Shawnee would pay any mind to a white girl like me." Ma Horn chuckled, her face alight in the dimness. "Why, Captain Jack's as white as you are." "What?" she blurted, eyes wide as a child's. Ma Horn's smile turned sober. "He's no Indian, Shawnee or otherwise, so your pa says. He was took as a child from some-wheres in North Carolina. All he can remember of his past life is his white name - Jack. — Laura Frantz

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

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

Mark had a smile that could break your heart. It seemed to take up his whole face and brighten his eyes, firing the blue and gold from inside. — Cassandra Clare

I can't blame you!
You really have no idea, how important you are
How elegant you look and how sweet is your smile
Everyone can smell you, from thousands kilometers away
They can feel like the hungry wolves
How delicious you are
And they can see you from far planets
Mars and Jupiter
Like the owls with big eyes
They know you are not human
Because no one have seen a creature
With such beauty and prettiness
I haven't seen angels
But I am sure they are not as beautiful as you are
Even beauty by nature has its limits
But I have to confess there is no limit in yours. — M.F. Moonzajer

I'm sorry you got dragged into this." He waved a hand to indicate he meant the house, the entire situation. "Having to stay here, with me, when you should be home with your family." A pang of homesickness hit her as she thought of her parents and how disappointed they'd been that her leave had been "cancelled". That wasn't his fault though.
To ease his concern, she put on a smile. "Yeah, but hey, I could've done way worse in terms of roommates." She gave his leg a playful nudge with her hand.
His eyes warmed at her words and touch. The firelight brought out the deep bronze undertones in his hair, flickering in tones of gold and orange. She wanted to run her fingers through it to find out if it was as soft as it looked.
He shook his head slightly at her, looking amused. "Why'd you have to be so sweet?"
She shrugged and countered, "Why'd you have to be so damned good looking? — Kaylea Cross

Dear God," said Will, looking from Charlotte to Nate and back again. "Is there anything that makes women sillier than the sight of a wounded young man?"
Tessa slitted her eyes at him. "You might want to clean the rest of the blood of your face before you continue arguing in that vein."
Will threw his arms up in the air and stalked off. Charlotte looked at Tessa, a half smile curving the side of her mouth. "I must say, I rather like the way you manage Will."
Tessa shook her head. "No one manages Will. — Cassandra Clare

Moon and Sea
You are the moon, dear love, and I the sea:
The tide of hope swells high within my breast,
And hides the rough dark rocks of life's unrest
When your fond eyes smile near in perigee.
But when that loving face is turned from me,
Low falls the tide, and the grim rocks appear,
And earth's dim coast-line seems a thing to fear.
You are the moon, dear one, and I the sea. — Ella Wheeler Wilcox

A couple of minutes later I was surprised when the figure that came back was ... not him. It was Arianna, holding something bulky draped over her arm.
She opened my door, and I got out. "Where's Lend? I'm supposed to wait for him."
"Nope." She smiled bigger than I'd ever seen her smile before, and suddenly I was a touch nervous. What if she was working with Nona and the faeries? "You were waiting for me. Now, strip."
"I - What?"
"You heard me. Strip. Take off your coat, shirt, and pants. You can leave your bra, for all the good it does you."
I noticed then that the bulky thing over her arm was a garment bag. Aha! "Ar, listen, I don't feel that way about you. You're not my type."
"Oh, shut up, take your clothes off, and close your eyes."
"Again, not something I was hoping to hear from you tonight."
Her smile was replaced by an annoyed scowl. "DO IT NOW. — Kiersten White

Alan ... " Shelby kept her voice mild and patient as excitement ripped through her. "I've already told you, nothing's going to get started between us.Don't take it personally," she added with a half smile. "You're very attractive.I'm just not interested."
"No?" With his free hand, he circled her wrist. "Your pulse is racing."
Her annoyance was quick, mirrored in the sudden flare in her eyes, the sudden jerk of her chin. "I'm always happy to boost an ego," she said evenly. "Now,I'll get your shirt."
"Boost it a little higher," he suggested and drew her closer. — Nora Roberts

Out from the servient shoulders of some smooth-tongued Waiter it stares, into the scared dilating pupils of the White Satin Bride with her pledged hand clutching her Bridegroom's sleeve. Up from the gravelly, pick-and-shovel labor of the new-made grave it lifts its weirdly magnetic eyes to the Widow's tears. Down from some petted Princeling's silver-trimmed saddle horse it smiles its electrifying, wistful smile into the Peasant's sodden weariness. Across the slender white rail of an always out-going steamer it stings back into your gray, land-locked consciousness like the tang of a scarlet spray. And the secret of the face, of course, is "Lure"; but to save your soul you could not decide in any specific case whether the lure is the lure of personality, or the lure of physiognomy - a mere accidental, coincidental, haphazard harmony of forehead and cheek-bone and twittering facial muscles. — Eleanor Hallowell Abbott

Adieu," he said, "this is goodbye. I'll never forget you, never."
She stood silent. He looked at her and saw her eyes full of tears. He turned away.
At this moment she wasn't ashamed of loving him, because her physical desire had gone and all she felt towards him now was pity and a profound, almost maternal tenderness. She forced herself to smile. "Like the Chinese mother who sent her son off to war telling him to be careful 'because war has its dangers,' I'm asking you, if you have any feelings for me, to be as careful as possible with your life."
Because it is precious to you?" he asked nervously.
Yes. Because it is precious to me. — Irene Nemirovsky

The man opposite, divided between anger and relief at the stripping away of his defenses, his nerves jangling, was taken utterly aback by the extraordinary beauty of Hilary's eyes without their glasses, by their keen, straight glance, by the enveloping warmth of his utterly happy yet rather deprecating smile. The immense power of his goodwill, together with his personal humility, made a sudden unexpected appeal that got right under Malony's guard before he knew where he was. He wasn't out to do you good, this chap - he didn't think enough of himself for that - he was simply out to jog along beside you for a little, and pass the time of day, knowing you were down on your luck, and thinking a bit of companionship might not come amiss. — Elizabeth Goudge

Someday we're going to live in St. Leonard's and get away from all this."


"Oh, sure," said Alan easily. The chili was simmering and he was leaning beside the sink, arms crossed over his thin chest, watching Nick work. "When I win the lottery. Or when we start selling your body to rich old ladies."


"If we start selling my body to rich old ladies now," Nick said, "can I quit school?"


"No," Alan answered with a sidelong smile, warm as a whispered secret. "You'll be glad you finished school one day. Aristotle said education is bitter, but its fruits are sweet."


Nick rolled his eyes. "Aristotle can bite me. — Sarah Rees Brennan

If you are curious as to what your future may hold, you can look into a mirror. What is reflecting back? Does a sparkle in your eyes indicate excitement about new adventures and opportunities? Does a smile on your lips portray an inner happiness and abundant goodwill towards others? — John Templeton