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Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "she was not dead"

the dead had risen, and there was nobody to pump gas
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
She was so pleased to learn that she was right
She was locked in time
She was cilantro, jalepeno, habanero. She was the hot plate you must not touch.
She Spoke to the Dead
She always was devious in her beauty
She always was all tea and oranges that came all the way from China
The girl didn't know if she was loved until he said yes.
She is and was
She was a committed romantic and an anarcha-feminist. This was hard for her because it meant she couldn't blow up beautiful buildings.
To a girl who thought she was moving away
there was at that moment no one more rightful dead than that unknown and faceless man
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
I was tired. It was late. She was Russian.
She probably thought your first language was English; your real first language was Joyce
He dreamt he was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty bed
Fast-talking career gal who thought she was one of the boys
She was coming out as he was going in.
she was just the dry smell of gasoline
she was once a stealthy ghostship in the fog, now she shines wherever she walks
He was an ant on an ill-defined mission. She was the trapdoor spider of love.
I wish I was dead
Django Reinhardt was dead already
She was steady
She was buttery. She was asking for it. She was delicious. Let's all give in.
She was thinking of a boy in California who had a couch and a job
She moved so easily all I could think of was sunlight
She said I dreamed like dead men
She was an intellectual prostitute, seducing me with profound truisms
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
He stretched out his arms but she was not there
I was throwing around useless proverbs when all she needed was to be held and told that she was beautiful
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
I said I was sorry. Then she looked at me.
She was cilantro, jalapeño, habanero. She was the hot plate you must not touch.
She was never mine. I always shared her.
The universe was cold and dead and all the best aspects of humanity and its appreciation of the world were stored in electronic boxes
Because, perhaps she was cold
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
And when she came back she was nobody's wife
Besides the part where she was the only one
Outside the train station she was the only person wearing an Orange raincoat and a look of surprise
Freud was wrong. Freud is dead. That is all.
in the morning it was almost too dead center
I was supposed to be dead when this picture was taken
It wasn't until later, when I was washing the blood off my hands, I even knew they were dead
She was very beautiful. Y'know?
For a lawyer she was surprisingly like a child. Sometimes.
"He was a terrible man," she sobbed, between bites of alimony
She dreamt she was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty field
piano outside in the snow. and she was spinning
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.
What the hell was she thinking?
When that cow would walk it was like she was dancing
The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
Jessica, too tall but still lovely, was not sure she would or should drop the whale
I'm sorry I was speeding, officer, but I really have to get to the hospital
The flowers smiled, but she was gone
The Abridged Edition: She was to one side, he was to the other, an untested bridge between them
When she was bad
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
The House on the Island Where She Was Born
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
She was the seed of a strange tomorrow
Existentialism is that girlfriend who cheated on you. Postmodernism is who she was with.
She was pain and pleasure all at once, wrapped up in needles and Ramones T-shirts
She was watching me and I didn’t know it.
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
She was a Surrealist Woman, She was like a Figure in a Dream
When she was new, she rolled around the sky like a black umbrella blown by the wind
A long time ago, under the shady tree in my yard, I was dead
A dose of mystery slipped into her cocktail while she was in the ladies' room
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
She was so tall, and I was so in love
She was the cutest necromancer I ever did see
She was like a candle in the wind: unreliable
She had become a mutton for punishment and he was a wolf
She was feminine in the most displaced sense I had ever seen, a known quality refracted through stained glass windows.
She was free
She knew what she was doing
she was waylaid by an octopus
She was too beautiful to be human
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
She Was 18, It Was Summer
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.
She didn't know what outside was anymore.
someday, when she will think back upon the time when she was as yet undishonored
For 5 minutes precisely, I thought I was dead
The train that came to me in the dream was already a dead train
Better Off Dead
Dead Can Dance
dead
Night of the Living Dead
Dawn of the Dead
dead end
Paul is dead
Intellectually drop dead gorgeous
dead dog
Grateful Dead
Tibetan Book of the Dead
Dead Kennedys
middle of summer how crazy it was
Red Sea Pedestrian
The Dead Milkmen
Dead Again
Dead C
Dead Sea Scrolls
I love the dead
Rugby players eat their dead
Polaroids from the Dead
Things to Do in Denver When You're Dead
Dead Puppies
Dead Man
immortality of the soul in a nonjudgmental world of the dead
the already dead
I've had better hugs from wind gusts and dead people
Nietzsche is Dead
Dead Boys
Generalissimo Francisco Franco is still dead
pingouin is dead
Dead beat
Deads
That is not dead which can eternal lie
Lenny Bruce is Dead
Exquisite Dead Guy
Dead Chicken (user)
Bringing Out the Dead
François is perhaps dead...
Dead People Server
neil's Book of the Dead
Dead pigeon
Dead ringer
Dead spit
Dead Heading
Millions of Dead Children
dead puck
Stop Dead
The Queen Is Dead
wave a dead chicken
Dead baby jokes
What Happens to Dead Muppets?
Kaspar is dead
dead insects are flipped over on their backs
Dead easy pasta salad
Pinball is dead.
The Dead Zone
Three Dead Trolls in a Baggie
Dead cat bounce
dead duck
The Greek Dead at Thermopylae
On the Spartan Dead at Thermopylae
On the Spartan Dead
Fifteen Men on a Dead Man's Chest
No prayer for the dead gods
Isle of the Dead
A beautiful girl, a dead man, corn on the cob
AIDS Kills Fags Dead
A dead bird and a drunken father
Don't miss me until I'm dead
The guy who may as well already be dead and therefore doesn't care about the consequences of his actions and is able to move with perfect freedom for the remainder of what will likely be a tragically short life
dead point
Dead Man's Float
To Kill a Dead Man

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