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Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "She was beautiful, and I loved her"

you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
She was a committed romantic and an anarcha-feminist. This was hard for her because it meant she couldn't blow up beautiful buildings.
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 innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
A dose of mystery slipped into her cocktail while she was in the ladies' room
Because I still love her, because I know she still loves me.
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
He was an ant on an ill-defined mission. She was the trapdoor spider of love.
She always was devious in her beauty
I haven't seen her in a month. She is still beautiful.
The girl didn't know if she was loved until he said yes.
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
She was very beautiful. Y'know?
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
She asked me if I loved her and I showed her the tattoo
She is so beautiful, I gave up Nihilism for her
She was so tall, and I was so in love
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
She was never mine. I always shared her.
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
I was throwing around useless proverbs when all she needed was to be held and told that she was beautiful
Veronica loves manipulating her vagina until she explodes
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
And she, with her beautiful words and such a fire burning inside
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
She was too beautiful to be human
she lit her thumb on fire
He touched her once and she turned into a golden creature. He never touched her again.
They walk around her like she is in danger of breaking
All acts of love and pleasure are her rituals
does she need to touch her own face to know?
My best friend reached her aphelion. Oh, and I'm in love with her.
I gave her my heart, she tore it apart, and who gives a fart.
She always confused her greys with white.
I don't remember what her name was so let's call her Doris
You can't stop thinking of her: this is how you explained it, a proof of your being in love.
She found her bliss between the headphones, and pursed her lips.
Seems I might have stolen the blue part of her rainbow, but all I really did was make it bigger, a way bigger blue
Bleed to Love Her
She Will Have Her Way
The portion of her face she allows me to see
I was sure it was her
She asked me to read her a poem
It's been an hour. I still love her.
7 things to say to a girl to make her fall in love with you
My way of showing love was consumption
She pulled the "I love you" on me
She nicknamed her vagina "Crusty"
for a moment the whole world was beautiful
Tell Stacey I love her
"Beautiful" is almost as misused as "love"
You can play with my ex-girlfriend, but treat her like the lady that she is.
When she woke up, her hands were still dreaming
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
She said, while hugging a bowl of turnips close to her bosom
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 think she even knows that I make her smile
i gave her my heart. she gave me a pen.
She gets caught in the little world beneath her sheets
Whatever is loved is beautiful
My love in her attire doth show her wit
She said her father died of cancer in the sixties
I would have attempted to draw her if she had stayed that way.
She Called in Her Soul to Come and See
Her hair was seaweed and the Pacific wind sang
She crashed her car trying to avoid a butterfly
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 keeps her lies everywhere
there was more poetry in her shopping lists than in any of my rhymes
People wouldn't fall in love so often if it were more clearly marked
Each month I love in her own way
Despite her station, the quarry was never alone
Nothing Was Beautiful and Everything Hurt
She wears her failed relationships like a shield
She thought about giving him her heart
It Was a Beautiful Day When Aunt Norma Died
Don't tell her she's beautiful
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane
It happened to everyone else; she swore it wouldn't to her
I don't tell her these things, and she doesn't ask
I come home, she lifted up her wings. I guess that this must be the place.
she left her handwriting all over the calendar
I don't think I was rude to her, just cold and curt
A beautiful instrument, insufficiently loved
At night, her eyes closed, she would
She plugs her tears in the way you'd keep a dam from breaking
I still love her (user)
She opened her eyes, looked at a world made entirely of white light
She is the queen of accidental magic. Her used kleenexes, taken by the wind, become soulful ghosts.
Where was her angel all those times the sky clouded over
Every beautiful woman has someone who is tired of her
She Will Have Her Way: The Songs Of Tim & Neil Finn
I told her I could read her mind, but she didn't believe me. I could tell.
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 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
He loved her so much, he wanted to do her autopsy
I was the center of gravity of Chicago for one beautiful Saturday
Telling Anna you love her the first time
A girl I know had her jaw wired shut, and she vomited.
She is not beautiful
I fell in love with her fist
I got the feeling the Fairy Council was mad at me when the president knocked over her coffee to get a better grip on my neck
If I was beautiful like you
That was what her hunger was like: mesmerizing, directed, floating like a public secret just under the cloud cover.
She, the Last Leviathan. She, the Station Agent. Chin on her Palm, she Watches Every Departure.
She knows no truth except her own.
She is willing to attempt to retrieve the data. Go with her.
she gave her heart to a falling star
She doesn't know what he sees, but sometimes it makes his face beautiful
If I was beautiful, I'd know it
I think I was watching the most beautiful thing I have ever seen
Her sleeves ride up on her arms when she moves
making certain he was touching her
this girl I was in love with
Our love is eternal. The night will end. The dragon is forever. Good will prevail. Mother sits on her throne.
The skyline was beautiful on fire
She smokes. It wraps around her wrists and clings to her neck.
Everything Was Beautiful and Nothing Hurt
That week with her was like drinking bubbles
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
I remember when it was me who made her skin flush
Robert Lionel Fanthorpe fills up the word count in a science fiction novel: she brushed her teeth
She's beautiful in ways that make her seem fleeting
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
Her name was Natalie
I don't like her because she won't like me
I can't tell the girl I love that I love her
She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
A man who never sees a pretty girl without loving her a little
I remember when it was me who made her toilet flush
"I'm sure your song is beautiful," she laughed
All that was left of her was a damp handkerchief
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
If you loved her, you'd be home by now
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
She does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
She flies with her own wings
Her eyes were beautiful in the moonlight
I fell in love with her first
She sat in virginal white, eyes closed, with only her face in rose
I think I fell in love with her right then and right there
An ocean away and here he was, seeping into her
Her photography captured little beautifuls and me
Sometimes the apathy she saw made her want to curl up and cry
What's she gonna look like with a chimney on her?
The sun was caught playing unashamedly in her auburn hair, setting our world on fire with giddiness
I ate her love like a nine-piece bucket of chicken
I love her backwards
Call her up, tell her how love is not a question.
"My God," she said, "I'm beautiful."
I set my sister up with her husband, and all I got was this great dress and a trip to Hawaii
the way she wears her weary
I'm the only person who'd ever told him to his face he was beautiful.
His ex-wife was so frigid, her clitoris was only the tip of the iceberg.
She does not take her trip. She does not shout out loud.
It is her name that I think of when I think about being in love.
why she makes her wishes at 7:07
When she sleeps, is she not moving her legs aside for an unknown garrison?
she had already found her party
She didn't wave goodbye so much as slightly raise her hand
Tomorrow, he must tell her that he doesn't love her anymore.
All he left her was alone
Two of them. Hovering there like bloated gas giants in the heavens. Good God, it was beautiful.
while she sleeps, i write myself into her life
if you fear spells, look away when she decides to share her hair with the wind.
Some nights, alone, he thinks of her, and some nights, alone, she thinks of him
serene. She sips her tea
You can not be in love with every beautiful thing you see
She disappeared as if he had only dreamed her
How long have you been in love with her?
She picked herself up, wiping away at her dignity
She is the sea. Above her, he is thunder.
You cannot be in love with every beautiful thing you see
She practices her speech
You put a hand on her hip, she permits it.
she couldn’t go and be beautiful

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