Count your age by friends, not years. Count your life by smiles, not tears.
If you have only one smile in you give it to the people you love.
The worst kind of pain is when you're smiling just to stop the tears from falling.
Nothing is more beautiful than a smile that has struggled through tears
Joy's smile is much closer to tears than laughter.
I would not exchange the sorrows of my heart for the joys of the multitude. And I would not have the tears that sadness makes to flow from my every part turn into laughter. I would that my life remain a tear and a smile.
But smiles and tears are so alike with me, they are neither of them confined to any particular feelings: I often cry when I am happy, and smile when I am sad.
Best friends are made are made through smiles and tears, and sometimes that fades away through miles and years.
She was like me in lineaments-- her eyes Her hair, her features, all, to the very tone Even of her voice, they said were like to mine; But soften'd all, and temper'd into beauty; She had the same lone thoughts and wanderings, The quest of hidden knowledge, and a mind To comprehend the universe: nor these Alone, but with them gentler powers than mine, Pity, and smiles, and tears-- which I had not; And tenderness-- but that I had for her; Humility-- and that I never had. Her faults were mine-- her virtues were her own-- I loved her, and destroy'd her!
One's life story cannot be told with complete veracity. A true autobiography would have to be written in states of mind, emotions, heartbeats, smiles and tears; not in months and years, or physical events. Life is marked off on the soul by feelings, not by dates.
Long time a child, and still a child, when years Had painted manhood on my cheek, was I; For yet I lived like one not born to die; A thriftless prodigal of smiles and tears— No hope I needed, and I knew no fears. But sleep, though sweet, is only sleep—and waking, I waked to sleep no more; at once o'ertaking The vanguard of my age, with all arrears Of duty on my back. Nor child, nor man, Nor youth, nor sage, I find my head is gray, For I have lost the race I never ran. A rathe December blights my lagging May: And still I am a child, though I be old Time is my debtor for my days untold.
She whom smiles and tears make equally lovely may command all hearts.
How oddly do life and death jostle each other in this strange world of ours! How nearly allied are smiles and tears!
Admire, exult, despise, laugh, weep for here There is such matter for all feelings: Man! Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear.
or simply:
