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Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "Your standard dream-spawned ghost. She drinks because President Lincoln broke her heart once."

I gave her my heart, she tore it apart, and who gives a fart.
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
I don't like her because she won't like me
She is the queen of accidental magic. Her used kleenexes, taken by the wind, become soulful ghosts.
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.
She thought about giving him her heart
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
i gave her my heart. she gave me a pen.
Because I still love her, because I know she still loves me.
she gave her heart to a falling star
she broke my heart
He touched her once and she turned into a golden creature. He never touched her again.
I never met him. He broke my heart.
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.
I never told you she stole my heart
She crashed her car trying to avoid a butterfly
The Dancefloor is our Mother. Her heart beats at 125 BPM.
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
She was never mine. I always shared her.
I bet she drinks from the bottle
She, the Last Leviathan. She, the Station Agent. Chin on her Palm, she Watches Every Departure.
broke (n hearted)
she left her handwriting all over the calendar
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
What's she gonna look like with a chimney on her?
she wants to kill and break hearts
Don't kill your invisible husband to see what he looks like or you'll sob your heart out. But don't worry about the millions of invisible men coming to attack your village because they won't kill you if you don't know how to fight them.
President George W. Bush's speech aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln, May 1, 2003
She keeps her lies everywhere
her beauty broke my bones, shattered my thoughts, tore apart my soul
She found her bliss between the headphones, and pursed her lips.
She said, while hugging a bowl of turnips close to her bosom
Her heart's too real to not have its own beat
She always was devious in her beauty
I don't think she even knows that I make her smile
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane
she had already found her party
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
She is so beautiful, I gave up Nihilism for her
I choose my soft drink because of commercials
She smokes. It wraps around her wrists and clings to her neck.
she was once a stealthy ghostship in the fog, now she shines wherever she walks
She always confused her greys with white.
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
She Called in Her Soul to Come and See
She will remember your heart when men are fairy tales in books written by rabbits
I dug my claws in her heart
She collected broken hearts
And her heart stopped beating.
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
She wears her failed relationships like a shield
Her perception of how gorgeous she is will be evident in her lack of movement during sex
(she's a monster) she ate my heart
She has a heap of hearts on a platter and she's not getting mine
Did you know you broke my heart today?
Sometimes the apathy she saw made her want to curl up and cry
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
She plugs her tears in the way you'd keep a dam from breaking
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.
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
She sat in virginal white, eyes closed, with only her face in rose
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
Some nights, alone, he thinks of her, and some nights, alone, she thinks of him
She didn't wave goodbye so much as slightly raise her hand
Because it is bitter and because it is my heart
She is the sea. Above her, he is thunder.
You put a hand on her hip, she permits it.
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
And she, with her beautiful words and such a fire burning inside
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
It's easier to drink on an empty stomach than to eat on a broken heart
A girl I know had her jaw wired shut, and she vomited.
She said her father died of cancer in the sixties
She nicknamed her vagina "Crusty"
She asked me if I loved her and I showed her the tattoo
I would have attempted to draw her if she had stayed that way.
She kissed me gently, just once, then walked away crying
Letter from President Davis to President Lincoln
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
Once upon a time, I imagined she would be a river
She was pain and pleasure all at once, wrapped up in needles and Ramones T-shirts
You cherish this box because it once held your dreams
because his heart was heavy, closing, like a tired eyelid
Just because she's nice to you doesn't mean she wants to fuck you
Just because I'm nice to her doesn't mean I want to fuck her
She knows no truth except her own.
she is still a ghost
Because, perhaps she was cold
How to Forgive the First Girl who Broke Your Heart
He breaks her heart on a daily basis
To her secret heart
She breaks hearts almost as often as she breaks the speed of sound
Her heart is in little tiny pieces that are going to blow away.
Her hand on my heart
Is this the world of her heart?
she left a little Java-shaped hole in my heart
A cute lady mechanic who fixed his engine and damn near broke his heart
My Heart and Mind are a Hundred Assassins All Coming for the Lady at Once
licking at her broken heart
crystal eats her grilled cheese sandwiches with ketchup hearts
I haven't seen her in a month. She is still beautiful.
Robert Lionel Fanthorpe fills up the word count in a science fiction novel: she brushed her teeth
I don't want to set the world on fire. I just want to start a flame in her heart.
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
She flies with her own wings
She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
She Looks Good, but She Has an Ugly Heart
She does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
When she woke up, her hands were still dreaming
I come home, she lifted up her wings. I guess that this must be the place.
You can play with my ex-girlfriend, but treat her like the lady that she is.
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
The portion of her face she allows me to see
serene. She sips her tea
At night, her eyes closed, she would
does she need to touch her own face to know?
Veronica loves manipulating her vagina until she explodes
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
I don't tell her these things, and she doesn't ask
They walk around her like she is in danger of breaking
She Will Have Her Way: The Songs Of Tim & Neil Finn
the way she wears her weary
She Will Have Her Way
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 gets caught in the little world beneath her sheets
She opened her eyes, looked at a world made entirely of white light
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.
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 practices her speech
because eventually you will see past my magical words and focus once again on the matter at hand
while she sleeps, i write myself into her life
why she makes her wishes at 7:07
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
It happened to everyone else; she swore it wouldn't to her
I killed my dog and broke my own heart
She asked me to read her a poem
Because she is unchanging, you are crazy
She had incongruity for breakfast because she felt like it
She disappeared as if he had only dreamed her
she lit her thumb on fire
beauty is invented, but it is also personified, and I know this because I have met her
She is willing to attempt to retrieve the data. Go with her.
She picked herself up, wiping away at her dignity
we are starving because we are afraid of our own hearts, and there must be another way
Don't Sit Next to Me Just Because I'm Asian
Because I dig you
I lost a chance at $40,000 because my mommy wouldn't let me sell my stock
Just because Linux is Free doesn't mean Linux Software has to be Free
Because that would make sense
Don't assume that just because I'm gay, all I want is sex
No one asks me if I'm a Satanist or anything because I take the precaution of wearing a predominantly flannel and hawaiian shirt-oriented wardrobe
The Revolution was Postponed Because of Rain
because I love skating bears
I Had No Time to Hate, Because
Because the suburbs lacked the proper elevation
Because I love you
Just because I like ballet it doesn't mean I'm a poof
The time a thug punched my friend in the face because he could
I give blood because I've got it on my hands.
Because I lived in Paradise
just because you've forgotten doesn't mean that you're forgiven
It's easier to kick a praying man, because he's on his knees already
I ran from Iran because I slam Islam
I say yes, because I believe in sailboats
or because we are all Supermen living in the city of the future
We love foxes because we killed the wolves
We do what we do because of who we are. If we did otherwise, we would not be ourselves.
When the seagulls follow the trawler, it is because they think sardines will be thrown into the sea.
If people are good only because they fear punishment, and hope for reward, then we are a sorry lot indeed.
Ignoring a leak because it's on the other side of the boat

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