Return to I never told you she stole my heart (thing)
|The import of this sentence is that it demonstrates how the meaning changes -- sometimes with [subtlety] -- based on the placement of [emphasis] on any single word in the sentence:|
[I] never told you she stole my heart.
In addition to all these variations, the whole sentence recited without emphasis on any one word is equally diverse in meaning if spoken with a sly smile, or with a sad, slightly distant gaze into the point of nothingness just over your left shoulder, or with an angry bark, or with a jackal's laugh. Notice as well that interposition of a grammatically correct 'that' in the sentence (as in 'I never told you that she stole my heart') breaks the series, for a sentence emphasizing that word ('I never told you that she stole my heart') would simply be weird and distracting to the point of losing its meaningfulness.
(Whoever it was you heard that from, it wasn't me!!)
I [never] told you she stole my heart.
(Sorry bud, but in response to your proposition, that utterance simply did not escape my lips. Ever.)
I never [telling|told] you she stole my heart.
(Yep, she stole it; but I kept that bit of information, ahem, close to my [chest].)
I never told [you] she stole my heart.
(Oh, I told everybody else; but you-- you, I kept in the dark.)
I never told you [she] stole my heart.
(Somebody had done so, I let you know that much, but did I mention it was her who done it?)
I never told you she [stealing|stole] my heart.
(I'd let you know she'd gotten hold of it somehow-- but not by thievery!!)
I never told you she stole [my] heart.
(I let on that she was a heart-stealer; just never that mine was amongst the ones which were stolen....)
I never told you she stole my [heart].
(Perhaps you thought it was my wallet that she stole? my identity? a [kiss]?)