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Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "Every day she told herself she was happy"

I was throwing around useless proverbs when all she needed was to be held and told that she was beautiful
every day she stands there, waiting. every day, she's gone when i get there.
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
She was watching me and I didn’t know it.
She always was devious in her beauty
she lit a fire and now she's in my every thought
She dreamt she was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty field
She told me she wouldn't
She was very beautiful. Y'know?
When that cow would walk it was like she was dancing
And when she came back she was nobody's wife
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
She was so pleased to learn that she was right
she reads all day
She picked herself up, wiping away at her dignity
Any woman who thinks she is pro-life should ask herself
Jessica, too tall but still lovely, was not sure she would or should drop the whale
someday, when she will think back upon the time when she was as yet undishonored
She had become a mutton for punishment and he was a wolf
The girl didn't know if she was loved until he said yes.
When she was bad
The flowers smiled, but she was gone
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
She always was all tea and oranges that came all the way from China
I never told you she stole my heart
She told me she remembers three things about me
She was coming out as he was going in.
It’s herself she didn’t love
every little thing she does is magic
She told me I looked like a Henry, and this is how she would know me
"He was a terrible man," she sobbed, between bites of alimony
She told me I'd make a good Satan
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
She was an intellectual prostitute, seducing me with profound truisms
The House on the Island Where She Was Born
To a girl who thought she was moving away
She was a Surrealist Woman, She was like a Figure in a Dream
He dreamt he was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty bed
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
We light candles on the day she died
She spent most of the day sleeping in my shirt pocket
She was like a candle in the wind: unreliable
She was so tall, and I was so in love
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.
When she was new, she rolled around the sky like a black umbrella blown by the wind
She was the cutest necromancer I ever did see
She bought a new smile every week when we first started seeing each other. Then I had to buy them.
Because, perhaps she was cold
She knew what she was doing
she was waylaid by an octopus
She threw herself from the bed
Each thing she learned became part of herself, to be used over and over in new adventures
She, the Last Leviathan. She, the Station Agent. Chin on her Palm, she Watches Every Departure.
She was steady
She was cilantro, jalepeno, habanero. She was the hot plate you must not touch.
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.
Every Little Thing She Cooks with Bacon (idea) mp3 (recording)
She told me to say that
She moved so easily all I could think of was sunlight
She was locked in time
piano outside in the snow. and she was spinning
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
She was never mine. I always shared her.
He stretched out his arms but she was not there
She was thinking of a boy in California who had a couch and a job
She was the seed of a strange tomorrow
She was cilantro, jalapeño, habanero. She was the hot plate you must not touch.
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
She probably thought your first language was English; your real first language was Joyce
The day she lost the light
The Abridged Edition: She was to one side, he was to the other, an untested bridge between them
I'm sorry I was speeding, officer, but I really have to get to the hospital
She was buttery. She was asking for it. She was delicious. Let's all give in.
I said I was sorry. Then she looked at me.
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
On the third day, she rose
she was just the dry smell of gasoline
I told her I could read her mind, but she didn't believe me. I could tell.
She was pain and pleasure all at once, wrapped up in needles and Ramones T-shirts
I was tired. It was late. She was Russian.
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
She is and was
She was too beautiful to be human
For a lawyer she was surprisingly like a child. Sometimes.
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
Outside the train station she was the only person wearing an Orange raincoat and a look of surprise
Existentialism is that girlfriend who cheated on you. Postmodernism is who she was with.
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 was free
She was feminine in the most displaced sense I had ever seen, a known quality refracted through stained glass windows.
Besides the part where she was the only one
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.
Every Little Thing She Cooks with Bacon
she was once a stealthy ghostship in the fog, now she shines wherever she walks
She Was 18, It Was Summer
The walls she had built around herself cracked and crumbled
She is stupidly keeping herself a secret, when I know she has sparkly things to show me
So happy she drools
Every Little Thing She Cooks with Bacon (idea) mp3 (recording)
she gave herself that holocaust haircut. cinnamon colored clippings cover the motel bedspread like sprinkles.
Tell him, she told me
Every Little Thing She Cooks with Bacon (idea) mp3 (recording)
He was an ant on an ill-defined mission. She was the trapdoor spider of love.
What the hell was she thinking?
Fast-talking career gal who thought she was one of the boys
She was a committed romantic and an anarcha-feminist. This was hard for her because it meant she couldn't blow up beautiful buildings.
(s)he
Murder She Wrote
She Is Suffering
I haven't seen her in a month. She is still beautiful.
Happy Days
English As She Is Spoke: Familiar Anecdotes
English As She Is Spoke: Familiar Dialogues, Part II
That's all she wrote
She writes notes to me, to keep me in check
She has trouble acting normal
A chorus of phones each time she calls
She has the biggest cock of any girl I know
By the way, she has a penis; just so you know.
every secret thing was made by some one
Still she cried, and still the world pursues
She is why God is God.
She pulled the "I love you" on me
English As She Is Spoke: Familiar Phrases
English As She Is Spoke: Idiotisms and Proverbs
She Hangs Brightly
English As She Is Spoke: Familiar Dialogues, Part I
She thought about giving him her heart
How clear she shines
So then she said
she being Brand
She said she loved me
She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
She Came In Through The Bathroom Window
She approached me with some vague line
She stopped and took a second look
She smiles in colors
English As She Is Spoke
She Moved Through The Fair
Surah 60 She that is to be Examined
What She Said
English As She Is Spoke: Useful Words, Part II
English As She Is Spoke: Familiar Letters
She breaks hearts almost as often as she breaks the speed of sound
Robert Lionel Fanthorpe fills up the word count in a science fiction novel: she brushed her teeth
Happy Labor Day from Insomnia Boy
English As She Is Spoke: Familiar Dialogues, Part III
English As She Is Spoke: Useful Words, Part I
I knew she wasn't faking
She misses me
She said, while hugging a bowl of turnips close to her bosom
Is she really going out with him?
God is a she
she turns and smiles, then walks away
And then, she expressed frustration with life in general
The picture she drew in my notebook
Who am I to critique that which she is?
She dumped me when she found out I'd been faking my Scottish accent
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
what she kisses twice
She arose and said matter-of-factly
One big happy random assortment of truckstop trinkets
The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne
he/she
she
How Gudrun cast herself into the Sea, but was brought ashore again
she left a little Java-shaped hole in my heart
She Who Is
She sells sea shells
Surah 58 She that Disputeth
Working for a Car Dealership compromises my soul every day
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
She Walks in Beauty

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