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Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "She was bouncing, at this point, toes pointing as she hopped."

I was throwing around useless proverbs when all she needed was to be held and told that she was beautiful
She was so tall, and I was so in love
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
I said I was sorry. Then she looked at me.
she was just the dry smell of gasoline
The House on the Island Where She Was Born
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
Existentialism is that girlfriend who cheated on you. Postmodernism is who she was with.
He stretched out his arms but she was not there
Jessica, too tall but still lovely, was not sure she would or should drop the whale
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
She Was 18, It Was Summer
She was too beautiful to be human
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
Fast-talking career gal who thought she was one of the boys
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
piano outside in the snow. and she was spinning
He dreamt he was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty bed
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
In a quiet grove of pines under a frosty sky, he helped her out of the sack. She wore severe white hospital pajamas and was beautiful.
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
She had become a mutton for punishment and he was a wolf
She was like a candle in the wind: unreliable
I'm sorry I was speeding, officer, but I really have to get to the hospital
I was tired. It was late. She was Russian.
She probably thought your first language was English; your real first language was Joyce
She was coming out as he was going in.
She was feminine in the most displaced sense I had ever seen, a known quality refracted through stained glass windows.
Outside the train station she was the only person wearing an Orange raincoat and a look of surprise
She didn't know what outside was anymore.
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
She always was devious in her beauty
She was locked in time
she was once a stealthy ghostship in the fog, now she shines wherever she walks
To a girl who thought she was moving away
She was never mine. I always shared her.
The flowers smiled, but she was gone
She was thinking of a boy in California who had a couch and a job
She was so pleased to learn that she was right
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
She always was all tea and oranges that came all the way from China
She was cilantro, jalapeño, habanero. She was the hot plate you must not touch.
She was the seed of a strange tomorrow
When that cow would walk it was like she was dancing
someday, when she will think back upon the time when she was as yet undishonored
She was watching me and I didn’t know it.
"He was a terrible man," she sobbed, between bites of alimony
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
She is and was
And when she came back she was nobody's wife
A dose of mystery slipped into her cocktail while she was in the ladies' room
She was pain and pleasure all at once, wrapped up in needles and Ramones T-shirts
She was a Surrealist Woman, She was like a Figure in a Dream
He was an ant on an ill-defined mission. She was the trapdoor spider of love.
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
She was the cutest necromancer I ever did see
she was waylaid by an octopus
She was free
Because, perhaps she was cold
Besides the part where she was the only one
She knew what she was doing
When she was bad
She didn't write like Emily Dickinson, but she did live in a house overlooking a cemetery, and I guess he thought that was important.
The girl didn't know if she was loved until he said yes.
The Abridged Edition: She was to one side, he was to the other, an untested bridge between them
For a lawyer she was surprisingly like a child. Sometimes.
She was very beautiful. Y'know?
She was steady
What the hell was she thinking?
She dreamt she was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty field
She was cilantro, jalepeno, habanero. She was the hot plate you must not touch.
She moved so easily all I could think of was sunlight
All the things she had at one point wanted to be
She was buttery. She was asking for it. She was delicious. Let's all give in.
She was a committed romantic and an anarcha-feminist. This was hard for her because it meant she couldn't blow up beautiful buildings.
When she was new, she rolled around the sky like a black umbrella blown by the wind
She was an intellectual prostitute, seducing me with profound truisms
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
She has big eyes and a slightly cracked voice
She bought a new smile every week when we first started seeing each other. Then I had to buy them.
She kissed me gently, just once, then walked away crying
This child has talent. She needs a better box of paints.
She left without saying goodbye
I would have liked thunder when she left
She is so beautiful, I gave up Nihilism for her
All right. She can fly circles around Uranus, but where's the bathroom?
He and She
It happened to everyone else; she swore it wouldn't to her
The picture she drew in my notebook
she broke my heart
She is the ocean.
The hardest breath she has
I don't tell her these things, and she doesn't ask
She didn't believe in transcendence
She threw out all my letters
Her perception of how gorgeous she is will be evident in her lack of movement during sex
I don't like her because she won't like me
She Is Suffering
She just looks at me
A tentative laugh, she expected to be interrupted
she is not a servant to scattered branches
She Smells of Lilacs
She said she loved me
she does not know how much I need this
She is not beautiful
When she woke up, her hands were still dreaming
She hates my futon
She doesn't know what he sees, but sometimes it makes his face beautiful
She loved me for my maths
I come home, she lifted up her wings. I guess that this must be the place.
She sits where she pleases
steady as she goes
She stood on my feet; and we danced
You can play with my ex-girlfriend, but treat her like the lady that she is.
Who am I to critique that which she is?
She told me I'd make a good Satan
So she wet the bed
If she really wanted to fit in, she'd get a smaller dog.
A chorus of phones each time she calls
She told me to say that
How she saw the moon
He and she are one
She Sleeps
She still has my Borges book
He says she says
she being Brand
She Fucks Me
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
Isn't She Lovely
She Misses Him
She who makes the Moon the Moon and, whenever she is full, sets the dogs to howling all night long, and me with them.
She remembers the stars
I would have tried, but Charlotte kept Charlotte in the world of Charlotte and she barely heard me
She sat in virginal white, eyes closed, with only her face in rose
Two condoms, she makes me wear
She Takes Flight
This is why she stays
she left her handwriting all over the calendar
What's she gonna look like with a chimney on her?
She Wanted to Leave
She really does want to clap along, but at the same time she doesn't want to let the bird get out.
Sometimes the apathy she saw made her want to curl up and cry
She touched my life for a second and made everything peach-scented
She is the branches, you are the trunk
All She Wanted
She doesn't look like Mother anymore
She Stoops to Conquer
She wakes me up by tickling my feet
She Who Holds the Sky
She started to fall, and knew she would never come back
She only wants me for sex
She threw herself from the bed
Dust mop so magic she can not believe how fun it is to clean up after people
There were only twelve raindrops, she counted them on the windshield under heavy soft skies
She does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
How clear she shines
what she kisses twice
Any woman who thinks she is pro-life should ask herself
She dumped me when she found out I'd been faking my Scottish accent
She has trouble acting normal
And then, she expressed frustration with life in general
Is she really going out with him?
She found her bliss between the headphones, and pursed her lips.
Jennifer, is she your friend?
Each thing she learned became part of herself, to be used over and over in new adventures
She Loves You
She said yes
She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
The vacuum she left
She just sat there
She thought about giving him her heart
All That She Wants
She flies with her own wings
They walk around her like she is in danger of breaking
That one makes me scream, she said
She sang of fantastic green islands, and sparkling fish, never telling that she haunted the waters
She Dwelt Among the Untrodden Ways
She makes my teeth naked
She Sells Sanctuary
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
She wears her failed relationships like a shield
I am three, she said
She is stupidly keeping herself a secret, when I know she has sparkly things to show me
She will remember your heart when men are fairy tales in books written by rabbits
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane
She leaves a busy emptiness in the room
If she were an insect, she'd be a moth in search of a flame
She makes sniffing sounds, and I don't know if she's snorting coke or weeping

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