Quotes & Sayings About Your Pretty Smile

What are you terrible at?" I asked, running my hand across his starched shirt. Encouraged by the touch, Maxon drew circles on my shoulder with the hand he had wrapped behind my back.
"Why would you want to know that?" He asked in mock irritation.
"Becaue I still know so little about you. And you seem perfect all the time.It's nice to have proof you aren't.
He propped himself up on an elbow, focusing on my face.
"You know I'm not."
"Pretty close,' I countered. Little flickers of touch ran betwen us. Knees, arms, fingers.
He shook his head, a small smile on his face. "Okay then. I can't plan wars. I'm rotten at it. And I'm guessing I'd be a terrible cook. I've never tried, so-"
"Never?"
"You might have noticed the teams of people keeping you up to your neck in pastries? They happen to feed me as well. — Kierra Cass

"You laid it on a little thick out there."
Morpheus clucks his tongue. "I performed masterfully," he answers, at last managing to claim his hat from Chessie.
"Right," Jeb scoffs. "Pretty sure my mistreatment wouldn't have sent you into hysterics, drama queen."
Morpheus smirks. "Fair enough. On the other hand, your portrayal of a brainless wind-up numbskull was spot on."
Jeb's lips quiver, as if he's fighting a smile himself. "You know, I still have enough paint to make that flyswatter."
"Tut. No need for violence." Morpheus taps the dust from his hat and places it on his head. "I'm simply giving credit where it's due." — A.G. Howard

You've gone mad. What's driven you to this nonsense?"
"You have," he snarled. "You, with your pretty gray eyes and your smile and the way you speak your mind. The sound of your laugh, your tears when something makes you sad." He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to imagine anyone else who had ever made him feel the way he did when he was with her. Emptiness looked back at him. There wasn't anyone else. "You're the only woman I've ever ... liked. — Suzanne Enoch

Death has a body like a model, the clothes of a poet and the smile of your best friend. She wears a top hat for fun, her ankh necklace for power, and carries a big black umbrella for travelling to the 'sunless lands.' I wonder what she smells like? I'm sure it's fresh and clean and her laugh must be rinkly or maybe it's warm and chuckly, but whatever it is, Death laughs a lot.
We talk about the 'miracle of birth' but what about the 'miracle of death'? We have the science of death pretty much figured out, but death's magic and inevitability have been feared and ignored for a long time now.
What if Death is a person? — Neil Gaiman

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

I was willing to make us into a proper family; I was willing to put the time into it. I've sent your brother to fetch your mother, despite needing him elsewhere, in a bid to make you happy. But I don't have time to play with you any more. Your friends are not the only ones who understand you're replaceable. You're alive only because I permit it, and I am fast running out of patience with you. So tomorrow evening, you will present yourself in the Great Hall an hour after sunset. You will wear something very pretty, and your best smile. And we will dine together, companionably.You will not try to stab me. You will not spit at me, or slap me. You will behave with decorum. In short, sweetling, you will make yourself special to me, or I will remove you from my game board. I need your brother, and I need the philtresmith. But I don't need you. Bear that in mind. — Melinda Salisbury

When the tribal groups of december trade
Seated in the figure of crocodile
And songs are sung and deals discussed, are made
Real. All ... For more than one reason they smile.
These codes are writ in secret, feeling fine
To keep what's private to my self since we
All must face our maker in our own ryhme
And reasons for being ( from regrets) free
So let the memory of your glory
Be the tenderness heartfelt love starkly
In the sky of my mind vast and pretty
Evermore glittering simplicity
Where in the truth of country grows sober
And sunshines through fog to radiate wonder — John Armstrong

You're not leaving us, are you, cousin?"
"If you're going into the city, you may want to have a healer look at that chest of yours, brother. All that scratching you've been doing lately can't be good," Vigholf said.
"It might be scale-fungus," Meinhard added.
"And your pretty princess with the beautiful smile and alluring tail won't like that much."
"'Cause it spreads, it does!"
"Aww, now, Ragnar! That's rather a rude gesture! — G.A. Aiken

I know what I want to hear. I want to hear the "Believe it or Not" song. I want to play that shit loud. Really belt out the "Should have been somebody eeeeeelse" part, with a little bit of Zack de la Rocha venom. That would be pretty awesome right about now.

But the other part of me, the part that wanted to be cool, knew that it was a much better idea to say, "Let's play the fucking Misfits." Because that's what you say to the cool guy in the combat boots who wants to smoke in your house. Because he's going to snarl-smile at you and say, "Fuck yeah!" And you're feel cool by association.

"Let's play the fucking Misfits," I said.

John snarl-smiled and saluted me with rock horns. "Fuck yeah."

Told you. — Eric Spitznagel

We lie with our faces because that's what we've been taught to do since early childhood. "Don't make that face," our parents growl when we honestly react to the food placed in front of us. "At least look happy when your cousins stop by," they instruct, and you learn to force a smile. Our parents - and society - are, in essence, telling us to hide, deceive, and lie with our faces for the sake of social harmony. So it is no surprise that we tend to get pretty good at it, so good, in fact, that when we put on a happy face at a family gathering, we might look as if we love our in-laws when, in reality, we are fantasizing about how to hasten their departure. — Joe Navarro

People don't tend to employ me. I'm the wrong personality type. Or rather, people do tend to employ me for a short time and then they sack me. A film broker once told me, as she terminated my contract, that I have a misleading sort of face.
"You're pretty", she complained. "Your features are symmetrical and there was an article in Grazia that says human beings are programmed to find those with symmetrical features more pleasing to they eye. So this isn't my fault, I was simply responding to a biological imperative. You've even teeth, so when you smile, you look ... sweet, I suppose. But you're not, are you?"
"I hope not," I said.
"You see, there you go again. You're a smart-arse and you've no ability to filter your thoughts
"
"And my thoughts are often abrasive."
"Exactly."
"I'll just get my brushes and sponges and leave."
"If you would. — Marian Keyes

Smile pretty, and watch your back — Ani DiFranco

You love me?"
He smiled. "Fuck yeah."
"I'm glad, because it's rare for one-sided relationships to work out well."
His smile widened. "Is that your very poor way of telling me you love me?"
"It was pretty poor, wasn't it? — Suzanne Wright

Auburn Mason Reed," I say out loud.

What are the chances?

I smile and run my thumb over the letters in her middle name. "We have the same middle name."

I look back up at Adam, and he's lowering his bed again with a faint smile on his face. "That could be fate, you know."

I shake my head, dismissing his comment. "I'm pretty sure she's your fate. Not mine."

His voice is strained, and it takes a tremendous amount of effort for him to roll onto his side. He closes his eyes and says, "Hopefully she has more than one fate, Owen. — Colleen Hoover

I didn't realize when I brought him back here that you'd inflict more damage." I said, once I'd finished the story.
"I was defending your honor." Adrian gave me that devil-may-care smile that always managed to both infuriate and captivate me. "Pretty manly, huh? — Richelle Mead

He wants you to smile and smell sweet and be his lady love. He wants to hear you recite all your pretty little words the way the septa taught you. He wants you to love him ... and fear him. — George R R Martin

What's your doggie name, honey?" "Mom ... " "Oh, c'mon, kiddo - we'll look back on this someday and laugh together. Promise. Now cough it up. We'll laugh for you until you're ready to see the funny." He couldn't help but smile. It was pretty funny if you looked at it from the other side. "Fluffy. — Dakota Cassidy

Oh boy. "Aren't you afraid that might express personal interest?"
His smile was a little naughty. "I've had my tongue down your throat. I'm pretty sure I've already expressed personal interest. — Jill Shalvis

Red carpets seem so glamorous, but you're really just standing there sweating and worrying your hair is going to fall. And in the end, people are only going to see one picture of you. You just smile for one second and then you walk over to the side and check your phone. It's pretty weird. — Morgan Saylor

I also gotta tell ya that you look pretty hot in your black swimming suit you're wearing." Tucker looking behind me, I'm sure at my butt.
I started laughing so hard; my face flamed up and burned my cheeks from my smile.
"It's a leotard, Tucker," I smirked.
"Oh, you're such a smartass," Just then, Tucker grabbed me and held me up in his strong arms and I was able to wrap my legs around his waist. — Nichele Reese

I was being sincere. Hold on to it as long as you can, Lark. Life knocks the stuffing out of you
eventually. Look at me. Look at Cade. As long as things are simple, keep them that way. As long as
unrequited liking is the least of your worries ... it's not so bad."
"It feels bad."
"I know. Take comfort in the fact that that actually makes you pretty normal."
"Not comforted."
He laughed. "That's normal too."
"Shut up."
"Love you too." He didn't say it often enough. But it had never been easy for him to say.
That earned him a smile. "I do. Love you, you know. Thanks for trying. And thanks for ... being
willing to kill someone for me."
"It's what brothers are for. 'Night — Maisey Yates

If it's any consolation, your mouth tastes nice," Ryan said. "Okay, that sounded weird. But as someone who has kissed more than two people in his life - "

"Three," Jamie cut in.

"As someone who has kissed more than three people in his life, I have to say it's pretty rare for someone drunk to have a nice-tasting mouth. Must be your superior breeding."

"I think you're drunker than me," Jamie said, snorting.

"Never," Ryan said. Dropping his smile, he turned his head and nuzzled Jamie's temple. — Alessandra Hazard

Well enough," I reply. "Remember, you're drunk. And happy. You're supposed to be lusting over your escort. Try smiling a little more."
Day plasters a giant artificial smile on his face. As charming as ever. "Aw, come on, sweetheart. I thought I was doing a pretty good job. I got my arm around the prettiest escort on this block - how could I not be lusting over you? Don't I look like I'm lusting? This is me, lusting." His lashes flutter at me.
He looks so ridiculous that I can't help laughing. Another passerby glances at me. "Much better. — Marie Lu

When you are very pretty, people tend to remark on your looks. They smile at you more easily. They are more permissive of your faults. Soon, you come to believe that your prettiness matters, and that you are better because you are pretty, and that all it takes to get through life is a batting of your eyelashes and a twisting of your hair around your little finger, and that you can scream and pout and shout and tease because everyone will still like you anyway because you are so unbelievably pretty. This is what many very pretty people think.
Beware, then, for this is how monsters are made. — Adam Gidwitz

Mi bella Princesa, your funny little dwarf will never dance again. It is a pity, for he is so ugly that he might have made the King smile.'
'But why will he not dance again?' asked the Infanta, laughing.
'Because his heart is broken,' answered the Chamberlain.
And the Infanta frowned, and her dainty rose-leaf lips curled in pretty disdain. 'For the future let those who come to play with me have no hearts,' she cried, and she ran out into the garden. — Oscar Wilde

Gemma, you see how it is. They've planned our entire lives, from what we shall wear to whom we shall marry and where we shall live. It's one lump of sugar in your tea whether you like it or not and you'd best smile even if you're dying deep inside. We're like pretty horses, and just as on horses, they mean to put blinders on us so we can't look left or right but only straight ahead where they would lead. Please, please, please, Gemma, let's not die inside before we have to. — Libba Bray

Come on," he said, and then dragged me toward the house.
I stopped when we got to the porch. "What is that smell?"
Ryan sniffed his shirt and with a smile said, "Armani. You like it?"
"Not you," I said. "It smells like someone is frying up dog vomit in your house." This took Ryan by surprise. I guess it was pretty random. "You're
really sick sometimes, Baker," Ryan said. "You know that? — Kelly Oram

I've met your cousin," he told her, and her veins turned to ice.
"Oh,really? When was that?"
"A little over two years ago.I'm afraid it wasn't a very pleasant encounter."
"What a surprise," she said sarcastically. Then she couldn't resist asking, "What did you think of her?"
Hawk watched her intently. "She seemed nice enough. She's no better at following orders than you are-and not nearly as pretty." He grinned broadly. It was the first real smile she'd seen.
"What would you like for dinner?" she asked, moving the subject to safer ground. Her cheeks burned from the compliment-or insult-she wasn't sure which. — Kat Martin

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

why were you so mean to little Chancellor Junior?" Clarke looked at him with a mixture of shock and indignation. For a moment, he thought she might actually hit him, but then she just shook her head. "That's none of your business." "Is he your boyfriend?" Bellamy pressed. "No," Clarke said flatly. But then her mouth twitched into a questioning smile. "Why do you care?" "Just taking a census," Bellamy replied. "Specifically, to determine the relationship status of all the pretty girls on Earth. — Kass Morgan

Between dainty bites, she told Amie, 'Oh, you simply are as darling a creature as Henry described! I had no idea of your being so grown up! Henry, she is positively frazzleging!'
Amie deepened her smile, saying, 'And I had no idea you would be so pretty either, madam. — Jennifer Silverwood

Hapi?" I asked.
"Why, yes, I am happy!" Hapi beamed. "I'm always happy because I'm Hapi! Are you happy?"
Zia frowned up at the giant. "Does he have to be so big?"
The god laughed. Immediately he shrank down to human size, though the crazy cheerful look on his face was still pretty unnerving.
"Oh, Setne!" Hapi chuckled and pushed the ghost playfully. "I hate this guy. Absolutely despise him!"
Hapi's smile became painfully wide. "I'd love to rip off your arms and legs, Setne. That would be amazing!"
Setne ... drifted a little farther away from the smiling god.
"Oh!" Hapi clapped excitedly. "The world is going to end tomorrow. I forgot!"
"You'd never get to Memphis without my help. You'd get torn into a million pieces!"
He seemed genuinely pleased to share that news. — Rick Riordan

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

Your kisses. Your smile. You're pretty close to perfect to me." I kiss her forehead, and draw circles with the pad of my thumb against her neck. She goes calm, like a hurricane suddenly becoming a light breeze.
She nods, letting go of me. Funny thing, it still seems like she's squeezing my heart. — Tammy Faith

You've been awake a while?" When his smile spread, I shook my head. "So you just laid there and let me stare at you like a creeper?"
"Pretty much, Kitten. I figured I'd let you get your fill, but then you kissed me and, well, I like to be a bit more involved in that. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

You take my breath away
From mile away
Hair, twice as nice
Smile is your make up, angelic face
You light up the entire place
Captured my attention
Can't help but stare at your perfection
so charming,
You will set the red carpet on fire
With that amazing attire
Best dress among the rest
Pretty girls are envy in your beauty
And one of a kind personality — Patrick Cruz

Halfway through the day, the phone rang, and I saw Jack's number on the caller ID.
I reached for the phone, snatched my hand back, then reached again cautiously. "Hello?"
"Ella, how's it going?" Jack sounded relaxed and professional. An office voice.
"Pretty good," I said warily. "You?"
"Great. Listen, I made a couple of calls to Eternal Truth this morning, and I want to bring you up to date. Why don't you meet me for lunch at the restaurant?"
"The one on the seventh floor?"
"Yeah, you can bring Luke. Meet me there in twenty minutes."
"Can't you just tell me now?"
"No, I need someone to eat with."
A slight smile rose to my lips. "Am I supposed to believe that I'm your only option?"
"No. But you're my favorite option."
I was glad he couldn't see the color that swept over my face. "I'll be there."
-Ella & Jack — Lisa Kleypas

He was also handsome in a too-pretty way that made me think with less muscles, a wig, and some makeup, he'd look great in a dress.
Vlad's scowl vanished into a smile as the brunet's gaze swung in my direction as though he'd somehow heard that.
"Looks as though she's put you in your place as well, Bones," Vlad drawled. — Jeaniene Frost

Augustus, perhaps you'd like to share your fears with the group."
"My fears?"
"Yes."
"I fear oblivion," he said without a moment's pause. "I fear it like the proverbial blind man who's afraid of the dark."
"Too soon," Isaac said, cracking a smile.
"Was that insensitive?" Augustus asked. "I can be pretty blind to other people's feelings. — John Green

If you're signing up all the pretty girls in Alden, I want to join too," Max told Christy.
"We aren't taking men," she explained.
He cocked his eyebrow. "What? We aren't sensitive enough for your kind of literature?"
Christy turned to Annie and both broke into laughter. Annie leaned closer to Max and whispered, "We are talking cliterature here."
His roguish smile was breathtaking. "Oh clits and chicks, I can handle that," he answered with a wink, his eyes glittering with laughter. — Elle Aycart

I'm sure your wondering why I've brought you here."
I moved to the center of the room, my strappy sandals clacking on the marble floor. "I'm assuming this is where the punishment part comes in," I said. "So do I need to clean all these mirrors, or do I have to,like, stare at myself until I feel shamed or something?"
Surprisingly, Dad gave a tiny smile. "No,nothing quite that abstract. I want you to break one of the mirrors."
"Excuse me?"
Dad leaned back against the now-drapeless window and folded his arms over his chest. "Break a mirror, Sophie."
"What what, my head? Because I'm pretty sure that'd be corporal punishment, and Mom would not be cool with that."
"With your powers."
Ugh.I took in the dozens of mirros and muttered, "I think I'd rather use my head. — Rachel Hawkins

She knew her duty inside and out. The prosperity of the cash drawer brought happiness to husband and wife. Not that Madame Puta was bad looking, not at all, she could even, like so many others, have been rather pretty, but she was so careful, so distrustful that she stopped short of beauty just as she stopped short of life - her hair was a little too well dressed, her smile a little too facile and sudden, and her gestures a bit too abrupt or too furtive. You racked your brains trying to figure out what was too calculated about her and why you always felt uneasy when she came near you. This instinctive revulsion that shopkeepers inspire in anyone who goes near them who knows what's what, is one of the few consolations for being as down at heel as people who don't sell anything to anybody tend to be. — Louis-Ferdinand Celine

You love the accidental. A smile from a pretty girl in an interesting situation, a stolen glance, that is what you are hunting for, that is a motif for your aimless fantasy. You who always pride yourself on being an observateur must, in return, put up with becoming an object of observation. Ah, you are a strange fellow, one moment a child, the next an old man; one moment you are thinking most earnestly about the most important scholarly problems, how you will devote your life to them, and the next you are a lovesick fool. But you are a long way from marriage. — Soren Kierkegaard

Oh, Cole," she said, "the jewelry box is lovely - "
"It's not for jewelry."
She gazed up at him, surprised by his somber
tone. "Then what - "
"It's a memory box, Devon. Something in which to store all those memories you collect, so you'll never lose a single one." He paused, looking both tender and serious at once. "Unlike the wedding gift you gave me, this one comes with strings attached. If you accept it, I expect the next fifty years of your life in return to help fill it up."
Devon bit her lip to hide a wayward, trembling smile. "Only the next fifty?"
He shrugged. "We can negotiate after that."
She nodded, swallowing past the tight knot in her throat. "That sounds like a pretty fair deal to me. — Victoria Lynne

He came back up with a brighter smile. "And I'm proven right, again! You guys should hire me for this talent I have. Mom, I bet you have a better sex life with that Garrett dude than you did with dad."
"Logan!"
He turned towards James. "And dad, I bet your sex life is pretty good with Analise. She strikes me as the slutty type."
"Logan!"
He grinned broadly. "And David ... I don't know you that well, but you strike me as conservative. You're only going to be with a conservative woman, maybe one that looks exotic though. I can tell you have control issues. You don't like anyone who is wilder than you, probably why you had problems with your ex, huh? As for the current one, she's hot under the covers, but I don't know if you want her to be." He shook his head in sympathy. "You might want to take care of that. — Tijan