Findings:

Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "She wasn't running she was flying!"

She always was devious in her beauty
He was an ant on an ill-defined mission. She was the trapdoor spider of love.
someday, when she will think back upon the time when she was as yet undishonored
Fast-talking career gal who thought she was one of the boys
He dreamt he was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty bed
She was buttery. She was asking for it. She was delicious. Let's all give in.
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
She probably thought your first language was English; your real first language was Joyce
Besides the part where she was the only one
What the hell was she thinking?
She was very beautiful. Y'know?
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
Jessica, too tall but still lovely, was not sure she would or should drop the whale
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
A dose of mystery slipped into her cocktail while she was in the ladies' room
I was throwing around useless proverbs when all she needed was to be held and told that she was beautiful
She was free
She didn't know what outside was anymore.
She was so tall, and I was so in love
Existentialism is that girlfriend who cheated on you. Postmodernism is who she was with.
piano outside in the snow. and she was spinning
She always was all tea and oranges that came all the way from China
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
And when she came back she was nobody's wife
I'm sorry I was speeding, officer, but I really have to get to the hospital
I put my head down and hoped to God she wasn't looking at me
The House on the Island Where She Was Born
She was coming out as he was going in.
she was just the dry smell of gasoline
She moved so easily all I could think of was sunlight
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
She was cilantro, jalapeño, habanero. She was the hot plate you must not touch.
She was cilantro, jalepeno, habanero. She was the hot plate you must not touch.
She Was 18, It Was Summer
She was never mine. I always shared her.
She was an intellectual prostitute, seducing me with profound truisms
He stretched out his arms but she was not there
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
She was thinking of a boy in California who had a couch and a job
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
She was so pleased to learn that she was right
She was the seed of a strange tomorrow
She was watching me and I didn’t know it.
I was tired. It was late. She was Russian.
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
She was a Surrealist Woman, She was like a Figure in a Dream
"He was a terrible man," she sobbed, between bites of alimony
When that cow would walk it was like she was dancing
I said I was sorry. Then she looked at me.
She was pain and pleasure all at once, wrapped up in needles and Ramones T-shirts
Outside the train station she was the only person wearing an Orange raincoat and a look of surprise
She is and was
She had become a mutton for punishment and he was a wolf
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
The flowers smiled, but she was gone
She was the cutest necromancer I ever did see
She was like a candle in the wind: unreliable
Because, perhaps she was cold
She knew what she was doing
She was feminine in the most displaced sense I had ever seen, a known quality refracted through stained glass windows.
She was too beautiful to be human
The girl didn't know if she was loved until he said yes.
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.
I knew she wasn't faking
she was waylaid by an octopus
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
When she was bad
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
She wasn't connected to the earth the way the rest of us are
She was locked in time
She was steady
To a girl who thought she was moving away
She dreamt she was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty field
For a lawyer she was surprisingly like a child. Sometimes.
she was once a stealthy ghostship in the fog, now she shines wherever she walks
The Abridged Edition: She was to one side, he was to the other, an untested bridge between them
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.
When she was new, she rolled around the sky like a black umbrella blown by the wind
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 was inside the music, with her eyes closed
She Wanted to Leave
she being Brand
She didn't believe in transcendence
I would have tried, but Charlotte kept Charlotte in the world of Charlotte and she barely heard me
All That She Wants
Jennifer, is she your friend?
she does not know how much I need this
I come home, she lifted up her wings. I guess that this must be the place.
And then, she expressed frustration with life in general
She doesn't know what he sees, but sometimes it makes his face beautiful
She will remember your heart when men are fairy tales in books written by rabbits
You can play with my ex-girlfriend, but treat her like the lady that she is.
She Stoops to Conquer
She really does want to clap along, but at the same time she doesn't want to let the bird get out.
What's she gonna look like with a chimney on her?
She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
The vacuum she left
The picture she drew in my notebook
That one makes me scream, she said
She is Overheard Singing
She Sells Sanctuary
She just looks at me
She just sat there
She threw out all my letters
she broke my heart
She Takes Flight
This is why she stays
When she woke up, her hands were still dreaming
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane
I was promised flying cars
She is the branches, you are the trunk
All She Wanted
She has big eyes and a slightly cracked voice
She wakes me up by tickling my feet
How's she cutting?
She only wants me for sex
I would have liked thunder when she left
She doesn't look like Mother anymore
She said she loved me
I don't like her because she won't like me
She wears her failed relationships like a shield
She told me I'd make a good Satan
Any woman who thinks she is pro-life should ask herself
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
She told me to say that
She Smells of Lilacs
she is not a servant to scattered branches
Why she stopped crying
He and she are one
She flies with her own wings
A chorus of phones each time she calls
She is not beautiful
She Misses Him
She sat in virginal white, eyes closed, with only her face in rose
Isn't She Lovely
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
I am three, she said
she left her handwriting all over the calendar
She remembers the stars
She bought a new smile every week when we first started seeing each other. Then I had to buy them.
There were only twelve raindrops, she counted them on the windshield under heavy soft skies
She hates my futon
Two condoms, she makes me wear
She is the ocean.
She sits where she pleases
She is so beautiful, I gave up Nihilism for her
Dust mop so magic she can not believe how fun it is to clean up after people
She loved me for my maths
She touched my life for a second and made everything peach-scented
Sometimes the apathy she saw made her want to curl up and cry
She threw herself from the bed
I don't tell her these things, and she doesn't ask
She stood on my feet; and we danced
The hardest breath she has
steady as she goes
She started to fall, and knew she would never come back
She Who Holds the Sky
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
Who am I to critique that which she is?
Each thing she learned became part of herself, to be used over and over in new adventures
She dumped me when she found out I'd been faking my Scottish accent
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
She Loves You
She found her bliss between the headphones, and pursed her lips.
This child has talent. She needs a better box of paints.
She Loves Me
She said yes
Her perception of how gorgeous she is will be evident in her lack of movement during sex
If she really wanted to fit in, she'd get a smaller dog.
what she kisses twice
He says she says
She kissed me gently, just once, then walked away crying
She Dwelt Among the Untrodden Ways
They walk around her like she is in danger of breaking
It happened to everyone else; she swore it wouldn't to her
How she saw the moon
She makes my teeth naked
She sang of fantastic green islands, and sparkling fish, never telling that she haunted the waters
He and She
She Sleeps
If she were an insect, she'd be a moth in search of a flame
A tentative laugh, she expected to be interrupted
She still has my Borges book
She is stupidly keeping herself a secret, when I know she has sparkly things to show me
All right. She can fly circles around Uranus, but where's the bathroom?
She Fucks Me
She left without saying goodbye
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 does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
She leaves a busy emptiness in the room

If you Log in you could create a "She wasn't running she was flying!" node. If you don't already have an account, you can register here.