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Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "we're too much for her, she says"

you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
I have too much to say
When she woke up, her hands were still dreaming
Dinosaurs were just lizards who got too much oxygen
She didn't wave goodbye so much as slightly raise her hand
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane
Sometimes the apathy she saw made her want to curl up and cry
Too Much Light Makes The Baby Go Blind
You put a hand on her hip, she permits it.
the way she wears her weary
Too much living is no way to die
think too much (user)
Her eyes were beautiful in the moonlight
I would have attempted to draw her if she had stayed that way.
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
I think I think too much
It wasn't so much what you said, or what I did, but more what you said I did, and what I didn't say at all.
Think there's too much violence in society today? Maybe, but consider this:
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
He loved her so much, he wanted to do her autopsy
I come home, she lifted up her wings. I guess that this must be the place.
She picked herself up, wiping away at her dignity
Here her lesser words were freed to tumble
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 always was devious in her beauty
On the cost of First Class postage
Everything seems to complicate too much when your desires are fulfilled
Obsession hurt too much
Windows were never meant to flicker so much
Days when art is too much to bear
There is not much new to say about snow, or about broken love
grumbling dissertation on how everything would be much better if it all were to explode
Her black eyes were surely the source of my angst
You can play with my ex-girlfriend, but treat her like the lady that she is.
She Will Have Her Way: The Songs Of Tim & Neil Finn
you laugh and then you cry but you're still laughing but you miss her so damn much
Some nights, alone, he thinks of her, and some nights, alone, she thinks of him
She plugs her tears in the way you'd keep a dam from breaking
If this were in person, I would have kissed her now
confusion in her eyes that says it all
She, the Last Leviathan. She, the Station Agent. Chin on her Palm, she Watches Every Departure.
Her heart's too real to not have its own beat
She asked me if I loved her and I showed her the tattoo
what she's building now, it isn't much, but it's hers
She was never mine. I always shared her.
Say that turning a teenage girl to stone is depriving the world of her
I can hear your thoughts much too clearly
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
Almost Too Much
Not enough chlorine in that gene pool
Effects of too much Angband
The World is too much with us
Too Much Mustard
How Eulenspiegel, along with the other boys, was made to eat too much bread
A River Aint' Too Much to Love
too much chasing; not enough catching
Too much awesome poetry on E2
Robert Lionel Fanthorpe fills up the word count in a science fiction novel: she brushed her teeth
Too much law, not enough justice.
Too much beauty
Seeing too much blue
she left her handwriting all over the calendar
The portion of her face she allows me to see
She who leaves men as flaming wrecks in the ditch on the side of the road in her wake, yea, even submarines
She does not take her trip. She does not shout out loud.
At night, her eyes closed, she would
I don't tell her these things, and she doesn't ask
the linear and the docile go feral at her command. we're on the run from rogue rivers and predatory trains.
She gets caught in the little world beneath her sheets
She opened her eyes, looked at a world made entirely of white light
When she sleeps, is she not moving her legs aside for an unknown garrison?
A dose of mystery slipped into her cocktail while she was in the ladies' room
she had already found her party
She is so beautiful, I gave up Nihilism for her
he doesn't know, but her eyes widen too far
Someone outlined against the sky, the sun too bright to see her face
She said, while hugging a bowl of turnips close to her bosom
I haven't seen her in a month. She is still beautiful.
She knows no truth except her own.
She disappeared as if he had only dreamed her
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
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 gave her heart to a falling star
Funny -- she looks much smaller from outside her head
She thought about giving him her heart
Alice without opening her eyes says You have to stop crying you are shaking the bed.
If You See Her, Say Hello
She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
Too Much Coffee Man
Too much bandwidth
You take up too much space
The lady doth protest too much, methinks
I sometimes think I am too much
Too much spring
When words mean too much
My man loves action figures too much
Too much bad poetry on E2
you were angels, so much more than everything.
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
the rides at the state fair this year are much too dangerous
No knowledge is too much to bear
Too much information
The Man Who Knew Too Much
Thinking too much
Too Much of Heaven
Too much to lose
she does not know how much I need this
so much to say
When I said too much I wasn't kidding.
I don't like her because she won't like me
she does not know how much I need this (idea) mp3 (recording)
She found her bliss between the headphones, and pursed her lips.
I put too much weight on your shoulders, I'm sorry
Too much candy
Her perception of how gorgeous she is will be evident in her lack of movement during sex
When too much Dungeons and Dragons changes your religion
too much
serene. She sips her tea
Most of the men were disillusioned long before they met her
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
I don't think she even knows that I make her smile
All of her seconds were unencumbered
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
She wears her failed relationships like a shield
Veronica loves manipulating her vagina until she explodes
Only her big toes were painted
He touched her once and she turned into a golden creature. He never touched her again.
She sat in virginal white, eyes closed, with only her face in rose
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
She Will Have Her Way
And she, with her beautiful words and such a fire burning inside
She is the queen of accidental magic. Her used kleenexes, taken by the wind, become soulful ghosts.
She flies with her own wings
why she makes her wishes at 7:07
It happened to everyone else; she swore it wouldn't to her
her eyes were brimming with souls
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
I told her I could read her mind, but she didn't believe me. I could tell.
if you fear spells, look away when she decides to share her hair with the wind.
They walk around her like she is in danger of breaking
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
does she need to touch her own face to know?
What's she gonna look like with a chimney on her?
She is the sea. Above her, he is thunder.
She is willing to attempt to retrieve the data. Go with her.
Her eyes were gray like a storm, and even more dangerous
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
She practices her speech
while she sleeps, i write myself into her life
Because I still love her, because I know she still loves me.
A girl I know had her jaw wired shut, and she vomited.
She Called in Her Soul to Come and See
she lit her thumb on fire
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
It's okay. I thought I knew her too.
She smokes. It wraps around her wrists and clings to her neck.
She nicknamed her vagina "Crusty"
She keeps her lies everywhere
She said her father died of cancer in the sixties
7 things to say to a girl to make her fall in love with you
I gave her my heart, she tore it apart, and who gives a fart.
She crashed her car trying to avoid a butterfly
She always confused her greys with white.
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 does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
She asked me to read her a poem
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
i gave her my heart. she gave me a pen.
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
Too much school makes us crack
You Worry Too Much
Can I masturbate too much?
Too Much Joy
The world would be in much better shape if our leaders were hamsters
You have far too much time on your hands
Laughing Too Much (user)
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.
Her sleeves ride up on her arms when she moves

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