I didn't want to look sad, nor to grin inanely.
You rub your glasses with your fingers, and of course it's someone else's brother, narrower across the shoulders than yours but with the same sad slouch, the grin that does not hide the stubbornness, the sad refusal to give in to rain, to the hours wasted waiting, to the knowledge that somewhere ahead a man is waiting who will say, "No, we're not hiring today," for any reason he wants.
The words are sad, but DeVito grins.
If your parents try cheering you up, or says something funny, then slightly smile like you are in pain (forced half grin, slightly sad eyes).
The really sad part of this rictus-grinning take is the opening, where the writer describes handing leaflets out in the lead up to the 2010 election campaign.
Our state's governor, Ms. Jan Brewer, grins like a sad, melted puppet whenever she tries to feign solidarity with the public, but it's clear that she and her best bud, civil rights abuser Sheriff Joe Arpaio, are more interested in keeping local prisons full of nonviolent offenders.
If you're grinning during a sad story, or if you're slouched with your arms crossed, it communicates that you're unattached from the conversation and focused on yourself.
The laugh that makes his skinny face contort into a blend of the dramatic masks of comedy and tragedy – sad eyes and a beaming white grin.
His mouth is locked into a rictus grin, but his eyes are sad.
Sad and intimate revelations might finish with a wide grin.
