I feel in every smile a chain.
No, let the monarch's bags and coffers holdThe flattering, mighty, nay, all-mighty gold.
It is money makes the mare to trot.
People may have too much of a good thing:Full as an egg of wisdom thus I sing.
The greatest menMay ask a foolish question, now and then.
For smiles from reason flowTo brute deny'd, and are of love the food.
With the smile that was childlike and bland.
Eternal smiles his emptiness betray,As shallow streams run dimpling all the way.
From thy own smile I snatched the snake.
Reproof on her lip, but a smile in her eye.
Comrades, this man has a nice smile, but he's got iron teeth.
A sweet smile and a soft word have usually their desired effect.
A smile that glow'dCelestial rosy red, love's proper hue.
There is a snake in thy smile, my dear,And bitter poison within thy tear.
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