Hoyt & Roberts, comps. Hoyt’s New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations. 1922.
Smiles
What’s the use of worrying?
It never was worth while, so
Pack up your troubles in your old kit-bag,
And smile, smile, smile.
George Asaf—Smile, Smile, Smile.
Smiles form the channels of a future tear.
Byron—Childe Harold. Canto II. St. 97.
Cervantes smiled Spain’s chivalry away;
A single laugh demolished the right arm
Of his own country;—seldom since that day
Has Spain had heroes.
Byron—Don Juan. Canto XIII. St. 11.
But owned that smile, if oft observed and near,
Waned in its mirth, and wither’d to a sneer.
Byron—Lara. Canto I. St. 17. L. 11.
From thy own smile I snatched the snake.
Byron—Manfred.
Her very frowns are fairer far
Than smiles of other maidens are.
Hartley Coleridge—She is not Fair.
In came Mrs. Fezziwig, one vast substantial smile.
Dickens—Christmas Carol. Stave 2.
The smile of her I love is like the dawn
Whose touch makes Memnon sing:
O see where wide the golden sunlight flows—
The barren desert blossoms as the rose!
R. W. Gilder—The Smile of Her I Love.
With the smile that was childlike and bland.
Bret Harte—Language of Truthful James. (Heathen Chinee.)
Reproof on her lip, but a smile in her eye.
Samuel Lover—Rory O’More.
Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss?
Three angels gave me at once a kiss.
George Macdonald—Baby. St. 7.
A smile that glow’d
Celestial rosy red, love’s proper hue.
Milton—Paradise Lost. Bk. VIII. L. 618.
For smiles from reason flow
To brute deny’d, and are of love the food.
Milton—Paradise Lost. Bk. IX. L. 239.
The thing that goes farthest towards making life worth while,
That costs the least, and does the most, is just a pleasant smile.
******
It’s full of worth and goodness too, with manly kindness blent,
It’s worth a million dollars and it doesn’t cost a cent.
W. D. Nesbit—Let us Smile.
Eternal smiles his emptiness betray,
As shallow streams run dimpling all the way.
Pope—Prologue to Satires. L. 315.
With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye.
Scott—Marmion. Canto V. St. 12.
Nobly he yokes
A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh
Was that it was, for not being such a smile:
The smile mocking the sigh, that it would fly
From so divine a temple, to commix
With winds that sailors rail at.
Cymbeline. Act IV. Sc. 2. L. 51.
My tables,—meet it is I set it down,
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;
At least I’m sure it may be so in Denmark.
Hamlet. Act I. Sc. 5. L. 107.
Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort
As if he mock’d himself, and scorn’d his spirit
That could be mov’d to smile at anything.
Julius Cæsar. Act I. Sc. 2. L. 205.
Those happy smilets,
That play’d on her ripe lip, seem’d not to know
What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence,
As pearls from diamonds dropp’d.
King Lear. Act IV. Sc. 3. L. 21.
There is a snake in thy smile, my dear,
And bitter poison within thy tear.
Shelley—Beatrice Cenci.
The smile that flickers on baby’s lips when he sleeps—does anybody know where it was born? Yes, there is a rumor that a young pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of a vanishing autumn cloud, and there the smile was first born in the dream of a dew-washed morning.
Rabindranath Tagore—Gitanjali. 61.
’Tis easy enough to be pleasant,
When life flows along like a song;
But the man worth while is the one who will smile
When everything goes dead wrong;
For the test of the heart is trouble,
And it always comes with the years,
But the smile that is worth the praise of earth
Is the smile that comes through tears.
*****
But the virtue that conquers passion,
And the sorrow that hides in a smile—
It is these that are worth the homage of earth,
For we find them but once in a while.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox—Worth While.
I feel in every smile a chain.
John Wolcot (Peter Pindar)—Pindariana.
And she hath smiles to earth unknown—
Smiles that with motion of their own
Do spread, and sink, and rise.
Wordsworth—I met Louisa in the Shade. St. 2. (Afterwards cancelled by him, not found in complete ed. of poems.)
A tender smile, our sorrows’ only balm.
Young—Love of Fame. Satire V. L. 108.
A man I knew who lived upon a smile,
And well it fed him; he look’d plump and fair,
While rankest venom foam’d through every vein.
Young—Night Thoughts. Night VIII. L. 336.