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Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "she was young and full of wanderlust"

"He was a terrible man," she sobbed, between bites of alimony
He was an ant on an ill-defined mission. She was the trapdoor spider of love.
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
Pain and beauty, our constant bedfellows. Young as I was, I understood.
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
She was pain and pleasure all at once, wrapped up in needles and Ramones T-shirts
She probably thought your first language was English; your real first language was Joyce
She was steady
I am no longer the foolish young man I once was
She was free
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
He stretched out his arms but she was not there
She moved so easily all I could think of was sunlight
She always was devious in her beauty
she was just the dry smell of gasoline
She had become a mutton for punishment and he was a wolf
She was the seed of a strange tomorrow
She was a committed romantic and an anarcha-feminist. This was hard for her because it meant she couldn't blow up beautiful buildings.
She was cilantro, jalepeno, habanero. She was the hot plate you must not touch.
She didn't know what outside was anymore.
She was so tall, and I was so in love
When I was young
I didn't know such things when I was young
She was feminine in the most displaced sense I had ever seen, a known quality refracted through stained glass windows.
What the hell was she thinking?
When that cow would walk it was like she was dancing
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
I'm sorry I was speeding, officer, but I really have to get to the hospital
She was never mine. I always shared her.
piano outside in the snow. and she was spinning
For a lawyer she was surprisingly like a child. Sometimes.
Existentialism is that girlfriend who cheated on you. Postmodernism is who she was with.
The House on the Island Where She Was Born
The flowers smiled, but she was gone
someday, when she will think back upon the time when she was as yet undishonored
She is and was
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
Isn't she a little young?
She was locked in time
She was the cutest necromancer I ever did see
Why I was convinced I would die young
she was once a stealthy ghostship in the fog, now she shines wherever she walks
When I was very young, I knew that the world was made of honey.
I once was a clueless young noder
When I was young Time had no wings
She was too beautiful to be human
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 was very beautiful. Y'know?
She was thinking of a boy in California who had a couch and a job
She dreamt she was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty field
To a girl who thought she was moving away
Fast-talking career gal who thought she was one of the boys
She was so pleased to learn that she was right
Jessica, too tall but still lovely, was not sure she would or should drop the whale
She was buttery. She was asking for it. She was delicious. Let's all give in.
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
She always was all tea and oranges that came all the way from China
When she was bad
He dreamt he was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty bed
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 is a night of dark trees, but he who is not afraid of her darkness will find banks full of roses under her cypresses
She was cilantro, jalapeño, habanero. She was the hot plate you must not touch.
She was an intellectual prostitute, seducing me with profound truisms
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
I was tired. It was late. She was Russian.
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
I was throwing around useless proverbs when all she needed was to be held and told that she was beautiful
The Abridged Edition: She was to one side, he was to the other, an untested bridge between them
A dose of mystery slipped into her cocktail while she was in the ladies' room
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
She was watching me and I didn’t know it.
And when she came back she was nobody's wife
Outside the train station she was the only person wearing an Orange raincoat and a look of surprise
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
I said I was sorry. Then she looked at me.
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
His love was enormous; it cleared rooms that desperately wanted to be full.
Because, perhaps she was cold
she was waylaid by an octopus
She was coming out as he was going in.
The girl didn't know if she was loved until he said yes.
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.
A language full of words she understands, but does not know the sound of, yet.
Besides the part where she was the only one
I was a young boy that had big plans
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
She Was 18, It Was Summer
She knew what she was doing
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
I was young and I needed the money
There was a rose that faded young
I was once young and had a home
when life was kind and we were two young wide-eyed believers
When I was Fair and Young
There was a young lady of Riga
She was like a candle in the wind: unreliable
I didn't ask if the glass was half full or half empty. I've always had enough to drink.
The Firestone dealership was full to the brim with cars. But I reasoned I would need a boat, since my desire was to go to Ireland. Just then a harsh reminder surfaced; water is expensive in hell.
cities full of ravens, silent concrete echoing back while she sings
full name
Full House
full stop
/dev/full
The glass is half full and half empty
full gold crown
Jockey Full of Bourbon
Beautiful Full Moon
pillow-case full of soap
pocket full of quarters
The Parking Lot is Full
Full Back
Help! My money is full of cocaine!
Full screen anti-aliasing
And the Sky Full of Stars
How wonderful to come home full of quiet coals
Memory Full Error
potion of full healing
Full Throttle
Sex in a bathtub full of Jello
Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!
Knowing your brain is about to grow outward, a flower in full bloom
A mall full of people doing the Macarena
Full of useless information
My god, it's full of sprinkles!
My God! It's chock full of SOY!
full bottle in front of me
full fathom five
Words are useless full of excuses you used me well
Full Moon on the Quad
full score
full screen
Full Circle Band
Full Moon Fever
A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing
full contact pinball
My computer is full of Advanced Ice Substitute
Full Gospel Ranch
20,000 Leagues Under the Sea: 6: At Full Steam
full toss
Kansas is not full of idiots
You can now flame me, I am full of love
Full Custom Gospel Sounds
full motion video
Full Nelson
I wonder sometimes if it is milk in her hair, full of sweetness,
full plate
Pockets full of gold
Silence is as full of words as all your books
The room is full of smoke and dialogue I know by heart
Every city is full of secret places
Full tanks of gas, and a corpse
floats, skips, and loops, and unbelievable long shots full of disappointment
Full moon cauliflower
full court press
E2 Full Text Search (superdoc)
O come, dearest Emma! the rose is full blown
Full Moon Party
full bath
Fill for me a brimming bowl full of stories
keep the hole full
Running full speed down a steep hill
Full term infant
Expanding Full Metal Jacket
Full tilt Poker (user)
Full tilt Poker (user)
Full Moon (user)
as if you were again young and chasing a childhood sweetheart
My dreams are full of ghosts
The glass is neither half full nor half empty. It has a design factor of two.
full subtractors
The glass is full.
the end of the beginning, and my heart is set on full auto
Streetwalking cheetah with a heart full of napalm
My Girlfriend's Head Is Full of Air
The kind of gods that crawl out of the rubble of a shattered place, full of shadow and sadness and obsession

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