Findings:

Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "She steps out of her car and my breath vanishes. It's just gone. I empty my lungs in a sigh that was at first surprised to see her, and then contented to be reminded that she exists. For a perfect moment, all is right with the world, and she hasn't even looked at me yet. My heart begins to pound."

it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
She opened her eyes, looked at a world made entirely of white light
The portion of her face she allows me to see
i gave her my heart. she gave me a pen.
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
she looked at me then whispered, we are all made of stardust
I said I was sorry. Then she looked at me.
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.
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
A dose of mystery slipped into her cocktail while she was in the ladies' room
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 kissed me gently, just once, then walked away crying
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
she gave her heart to a falling star
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
She always was devious in her beauty
I was throwing around useless proverbs when all she needed was to be held and told that she was beautiful
She asked me if I loved her and I showed her the tattoo
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
She asked me to read her a poem
She just looks at me
She who leaves men as flaming wrecks in the ditch on the side of the road in her wake, yea, even submarines
I don't like her because she won't like me
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
if you fear spells, look away when she decides to share her hair with the wind.
I told her I could read her mind, but she didn't believe me. I could tell.
she doesn't write, doesn't tell you stories, but somehow it's her words that spring to mind at those crucial, terrifying moments, and for that you are eternally grateful
Because I still love her, because I know she still loves me.
She Called in Her Soul to Come and See
I don't think she even knows that I make her smile
She does not take her trip. She does not shout out loud.
She crashed her car trying to avoid a butterfly
She thought about giving him her heart
I gave her my heart, she tore it apart, and who gives a fart.
Outside the train station she was the only person wearing an Orange raincoat and a look of surprise
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
What's she gonna look like with a chimney on her?
I come home, she lifted up her wings. I guess that this must be the place.
Her perception of how gorgeous she is will be evident in her lack of movement during sex
She was never mine. I always shared her.
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
She gets caught in the little world beneath her sheets
she left her handwriting all over the calendar
She dumped me when she found out I'd been faking my Scottish accent
She picked herself up, wiping away at her dignity
She was so pleased to learn that she was right
You put a hand on her hip, she permits it.
She dreamt she was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty field
She always confused her greys with white.
I would have attempted to draw her if she had stayed that way.
She sat in virginal white, eyes closed, with only her face in rose
why she makes her wishes at 7:07
while she sleeps, i write myself into her life
He dreamt he was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty bed
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 an intellectual prostitute, seducing me with profound truisms
She was the cutest necromancer I ever did see
He stretched out his arms but she was not there
She said her father died of cancer in the sixties
She looks at me and she laughs
She is so beautiful, I gave up Nihilism for her
When she woke up, her hands were still dreaming
She was coming out as he was going in.
He touched her once and she turned into a golden creature. He never touched her again.
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
Veronica loves manipulating her vagina until she explodes
She was too beautiful to be human
She Will Have Her Way: The Songs Of Tim & Neil Finn
She didn't wave goodbye so much as slightly raise her hand
she lit her thumb on fire
She is the queen of accidental magic. Her used kleenexes, taken by the wind, become soulful ghosts.
She disappeared as if he had only dreamed her
She is the sea. Above her, he is thunder.
the way she wears her weary
A girl I know had her jaw wired shut, and she vomited.
does she need to touch her own face to know?
She bought a new smile every week when we first started seeing each other. Then I had to buy them.
she was just the dry smell of gasoline
She keeps her lies everywhere
She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
They walk around her like she is in danger of breaking
What I used to be/Will pass away, and then you'll see/That all I want now/Is happiness for you and me
Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.
I haven't seen her in a month. She is still beautiful.
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
She does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
It happened to everyone else; she swore it wouldn't to her
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
She plugs her tears in the way you'd keep a dam from breaking
All the things she had at one point wanted to be
I don't tell her these things, and she doesn't ask
someday, when she will think back upon the time when she was as yet undishonored
Of all the dorm rooms in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.
When she sleeps, is she not moving her legs aside for an unknown garrison?
she seems bored with me after all this time
Susan Goldman, who has cervical cancer, is partly thankful as she braces herself but changes her mind as she's sprayed with burning jet fuel.
She is willing to attempt to retrieve the data. Go with her.
This is the first time she's texted me since the morning she left.
She practices her speech
She knows no truth except her own.
She probably thought your first language was English; your real first language was Joyce
Her sleeves ride up on her arms when she moves
The flowers smiled, but she was gone
She was watching me and I didn’t know it.
She nicknamed her vagina "Crusty"
I'm sorry I was speeding, officer, but I really have to get to the hospital
Robert Lionel Fanthorpe fills up the word count in a science fiction novel: she brushed her teeth
I would have tried, but Charlotte kept Charlotte in the world of Charlotte and she barely heard me
Spinning shapes like a song out of order. In the dark she can see fireflies.
She might not need me. But then again she might.
She told me I looked like a Henry, and this is how she would know me
She Looks Good, but She Has an Ugly Heart
She just appeared out of nowhere
All right. She can fly circles around Uranus, but where's the bathroom?
She handed me my first sharpened pencil.
She was buttery. She was asking for it. She was delicious. Let's all give in.
I don't want to set the world on fire. I just want to start a flame in her heart.
She said, while hugging a bowl of turnips close to her bosom
She always was all tea and oranges that came all the way from China
She, the Last Leviathan. She, the Station Agent. Chin on her Palm, she Watches Every Departure.
She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
She flies with her own wings
She found her bliss between the headphones, and pursed her lips.
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 may be pretty and have more money than me but she doesn't write songs about you.
Sometimes the apathy she saw made her want to curl up and cry
When I look into her eyes, I no longer care about what the world thinks. This is what it feels like to be alive.
She was pain and pleasure all at once, wrapped up in needles and Ramones T-shirts
She threw out all my letters
You can play with my ex-girlfriend, but treat her like the lady that she is.
She smokes. It wraps around her wrists and clings to her neck.
She wears her failed relationships like a shield
At night, her eyes closed, she would
serene. She sips her tea
It will be a love story ... for she will be my heroine for all time
Some nights, alone, he thinks of her, and some nights, alone, she thinks of him
she had already found her party
And she, with her beautiful words and such a fire burning inside
She Will Have Her Way
i kissed her one last time, then walked out of her life forever
she made them, like fire, expansible over all space
When she shouts BE QUIET THE NEIGHBORS WILL HEAR IF YOU'RE NOT QUIET
If she were an insect, she'd be a moth in search of a flame
All That She Wants
all she ever wanted
The hardest breath she has
Empty at last she had room to unfurl
How to be strong for her, when all you want is to depend on her
She tells stories as if she knows what the ending will be.
She teaches a night class. Psychology 100, to be precise.
do not look upon her; you shall be blinded
A tentative laugh, she expected to be interrupted
lest she lose all else
She Had to Be Sure
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.
There's a sign on the wall. But she wants to be sure. Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings.
I set my sister up with her husband, and all I got was this great dress and a trip to Hawaii
A salted moment of memories smudged across my face, and I’ve already forgiven her. It’s all over now
The sun was caught playing unashamedly in her auburn hair, setting our world on fire with giddiness
She must be what cocaine is like
If you meet a strange, confident woman, she may well be a witch
If I'd have shot her when I met her, I'd be out of jail by now.
she can't remember what it's like to be found
I think I fell in love with her right then and right there
she couldn’t go and be beautiful
You have the right to be angry at me for breaking my heart.
she can scream so loud you'll be looking for your ears on the floor
I don't think I was rude to her, just cold and curt
Once upon a time, I imagined she would be a river
so that all her children will be adventurers in light
All he left her was alone
It must be morning when she dreams.

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