She smiled at him, making sure that the smile gathered up everything inside her and directed it toward him, making him a profound promise of herself for so little, for the beat of a response, the assurance of a complimentary vibration in him.

Reproof on her lip, but a smile in her eye.

She smiled at me, arsenically.

When I saw you smile I saw a dream come true

her “smile” — as an expression of her loving disposition toward God — in spite of her feelings.

It's a smile a girl could bring home to mother, if she had a mother; a smile a girl could pet like a pony, sip like a lemonade, hum like a popular tune; a smile a girl would feel safe with in a dark alley.

Close enough so I can see the smile, a smile I know full well, a smile that clubs, a smile that beats, a smile that dominates.

She put one hand on mine. “When someone is in your heart, they’re never truly gone. They can come back to you, even at unlikely times.

I touched her thigh and death smiled

In the dusk I saw her smile, that incredible female smile. It is called wisdom but it isn't that but rather an understanding that makes wisdom unnecessary.

So she enjoyed herself heartily, and found, what isn't always the case, that her granted wish was all she had hoped.

The smile he gave her was mainstream, pop, radio-friendly. The smile he’d given me was the single released after an artist had established themselves, found their voice, could speak directly to their target audience. The smile he’d given me had more R&B to it.

She had a very agreeable smile; it did not light up her face suddenly, but seemed rather to suffuse it by degrees with charm. It hesitated for a moment about her lips and then slowly travelled to those great shining eyes of hers and there softly lingered.

I could tell I loved her from the moment I saw her, right after she opened the trunk, untied me, and took off my blindfold.