And She Still Smiles Quotes

“She gave his hand a small squeeze. "Jason, if we're going to try this then I'd like to
take things slow." He frowned. "What I mean is nothing beyond the level we were at
last night." She worried her lip between her teeth. "What I mean is no actual sex."
He narrowed his eyes on her. "But, you'll still sleep with me naked and let me do a
hundred other naughty things to you?" he asked in a serious tone.
"Yes."
He brushed his lips against hers again and moved back a few inches to look into her
eyes. "And you'll still cook for me and call me Master?"
Her lips twitched. "Yes to the cooking and not a chance in hell for the other."
He sighed wearily. "Fine, how about Lord and Master?"
"Uh ... no."
"God?"
"Nope."
"My liege?"
"Wait ... no."
He gave her one of his lopsided smiles. "I'll wear you down eventually.”

— R.L. Mathewson

“She remembers blood.
A fine mist which goes deep into her lungs, over her skin and through the air. She remembers a desert at dusk. The sky indigo blue and the fire bright, so bright that she can see everything. Near the fire, in the night, all she knows is chaos wrapped in crimson. All is death and nightmare with a single solitary dancer who smiles cruelly as he moves. He is power and darkness. He is man and beast, silver coin eyes and that face, those claws and the agony of loss.
Time stretches wide; seconds like vast eons swallow up her world. Vince is dead, his mother, his brother and her small son ripped apart and gushing as he/it moves. She is screaming, a howl of agony beyond words, primal and wordless. Still he moves, faster than air, faster than she could ever be. Blood drips from her face as she grunts, running with her lungs on fire and her last remaining hope wrapped in her arms.”

— Amanda M. Lyons

“Scarring smiles, hidden tears,
You stand, heads bowed and revere
The soul before us, burnt and torn
Her faded essence, we sadly mourn
And though she walked a path of lies
Her spirit surely still shall rise
And among her own, she can be at peace
An eternal angel, she's been released.”

— Amelia Mysko

“Rochelle," she calls out, still looking at me. "Is there anyone down at the desk? I need something."
I'm too startled to move. Is she going to tell on me, get me in trouble?
Rochelle's gotten up; she's banging the toilet stall doors open one by one, checking to make sure no one's in there. When the last stall turns up empty, she gives Amanda an annoyed look. "What do you need this time of night?"
Amanda smiles at me, then turns to face Rochelle. "A tampon”

— Patricia McCormick

“You once said you loved me. Do you still?"
My sister is watching this exchange between us. She smiles warmly at me, giving me the strength to tell him the truth. "I never stopped loving you. Even when I tried desperately to forget you. I couldn't.”

— Simone Elkeles

“Mrs Farleigh," he called. She stopped and gave him her shoulder, not quite meeting his eyes. Still wary, and that made him angrier yet. "I want you to trounce me."
Her head snapped up. "Pardon?"
"It is down to you and me. We are battling it out, to see who will be king of the indifferent shots in this competition. Only one of us will prevail.I shall shoot to win." He really was angry, he realized - furious to imagine her spending her autumns deliberately hiding what she could do, hiding the extent of her ability from the man who should treasure it. It was as if she'd left a vast swath of her ability unclaimed, hidden behind a swirl of feminine smiles. He didn't like the idea. He didn't like it at all.”

— Courtney Milan

“And then she turns to look at me with the same look in her eyes, and I melt the way I always do. I am the luckiest man in any world, a soul transformed, pulled back from the abyss and blessed with love more powerful than evil or death or time or space or any of the rules.
"I love you," I whisper.
She smiles. "Two thousand and twenty-four," she says, and then she kisses me. And it is still the best kiss.”

— Stacey Jay

“The friendly, welcoming smiles she had grown to love still made her breath catch, but he'd added a new weapon to his arsenal. A secret, intimate smile that reminded her of warm kisses and strong arms. It never failed to flush her cheeks and flutter her stomach. The man was an invalid in a dressing gown convalescing amid a mound of cushions on the parlor settee; yet when he smiled at her like that, he became masculinity personified. Gideon had a dash of the rogue in him. And Adelaide adored him for it.”

— Karen Witemeyer

“She still smiles from time to time, definitely a charming smile, but it's always limited somehow, a smile that never goes beyond the moment. A high, invisible wall surrounds her, holding people at arm's length.”

— Haruki Murakami

“Do you still love me, Janie?'
Janie stares at him, incredulous. 'Yes, of course! I don't say it lightly.'
'Say it lightly in my ear,' he demands.
She smiles, rests her soft cheek on his scratchy one, and whispers it. 'I love you, Cabe.”

— Lisa McMann

“She [Mme Sazerat] did not offer her hand, but smiled at my mother with vague melancholy as one smiles at a playmate from one's childhood, but with whom all connection has been severed because she has lived a debauched life, married a jailbird or, worse still, a divorced man.”

— Marcel Proust

“I lean in this time, and she doesn't turn away. It's cold, and our lips are dry, noses a little wet, foreheads sweaty beneath wool hats. I can't touch her face, even though I want to, because I'm wearing gloves. But God, when her lips come apart, everything turns warm and her sugar sweet breath is in my mouth, and I probably taste like hot dogs but I don't care. She kisses like a sweet devouring, and I don't know where to touch her because I want all of her. I want to touch her knees and hips and her stomach and her back and her everything, but we're encased in all these clothes, so we're just two marshmallows bumping against each other, and she smiles at me while still kissing because she knows how ridiculous it is, too.”

— John Green

“Every time shespeaks or smiles or, God forbid, laughs ... my heart reacts like it's been sucker-punched. I hate it and like it and somehow have become addicted to it. Every time she speaks, the sucker-punch in my chest reminds me that there's still something there.”

— Colleen Hoover