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Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "ponders on her existence as she looks through family pictures"

What's she gonna look like with a chimney on her?
She opened her eyes, looked at a world made entirely of white light
if you fear spells, look away when she decides to share her hair with the wind.
She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
She doesn't look like Mother anymore
why she makes her wishes at 7:07
She was never mine. I always shared her.
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane
When I look into her eyes, I no longer care about what the world thinks. This is what it feels like to be alive.
She flies with her own wings
remember, when they look right through you, you're still there
she looked good
does she need to touch her own face to know?
At night, her eyes closed, she would
She found her bliss between the headphones, and pursed her lips.
while she sleeps, i write myself into her life
Her lack of response opened a gate through which my mind started to wander, into a wilderness where the shadows all had teeth...
I would have attempted to draw her if she had stayed that way.
I told her I could read her mind, but she didn't believe me. I could tell.
she left her handwriting all over the calendar
I said I was sorry. Then she looked at me.
She Moved Through The Fair
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
I don't think she even knows that I make her smile
She Will Have Her Way: The Songs Of Tim & Neil Finn
She plugs her tears in the way you'd keep a dam from breaking
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
I told her the driftwood looked like Spain
I Knew Her Through a Window
She Called in Her Soul to Come and See
You put a hand on her hip, she permits it.
It happened to everyone else; she swore it wouldn't to her
The picture she drew in my notebook
She told me I looked like a Henry, and this is how she would know me
She was feminine in the most displaced sense I had ever seen, a known quality refracted through stained glass windows.
Look, she is also mostly confident front.
she looked at me then whispered, we are all made of stardust
She thought about giving him her heart
The colors flow through her like a rainbow
She is so beautiful, I gave up Nihilism for her
Sometimes the apathy she saw made her want to curl up and cry
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 perception of how gorgeous she is will be evident in her lack of movement during sex
She always was devious in her beauty
The look in her eyes
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
She is the queen of accidental magic. Her used kleenexes, taken by the wind, become soulful ghosts.
She gets caught in the little world beneath her sheets
Her picture in my wallet
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
The portion of her face she allows me to see
I don't like her because she won't like me
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.
When she sleeps, is she not moving her legs aside for an unknown garrison?
She is willing to attempt to retrieve the data. Go with her.
She picked herself up, wiping away at her dignity
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
The shadows made her look a little treacherous.
before the internet when teen had REAL relationship the boy could look at the girl and judge the diameter of her thorax with his feelers and determine whether the mating ritual could commence but NO MORE. evil woman use her computer sorcery
She knows no truth except her own.
She keeps her lies everywhere
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
she gave her heart to a falling star
She asked me if I loved her and I showed her the tattoo
She didn't wave goodbye so much as slightly raise her hand
Funny -- she looks much smaller from outside her head
Every time I look at this picture, I feel a little more in love
we must look at the entire picture
She Came In Through The Bathroom Window
Making the Movies III Eyesight Damage Caused Through the Motion Picture Arcs
She Looked Slutty. I Don't Mean That in a Bad Way.
She looks good in black
She went out through the bathroom window
She came through the glass door, untouched by the storm that raged outside.
Red aura, she looked bright
How Ozma Looked into the Magic Picture
She wears her failed relationships like a shield
She was a committed romantic and an anarcha-feminist. This was hard for her because it meant she couldn't blow up beautiful buildings.
They walk around her like she is in danger of breaking
She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
I haven't seen her in a month. She is still beautiful.
She sat in virginal white, eyes closed, with only her face in rose
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
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
She does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
She said, while hugging a bowl of turnips close to her bosom
He touched her once and she turned into a golden creature. He never touched her again.
serene. She sips her tea
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
She does not take her trip. She does not shout out loud.
These pictures are her past. These pictures are my future.
If you could see her through my eyes
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
the way she wears her weary
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
She who leaves men as flaming wrecks in the ditch on the side of the road in her wake, yea, even submarines
she had already found her party
She Will Have Her Way
And she, with her beautiful words and such a fire burning inside
Some nights, alone, he thinks of her, and some nights, alone, she thinks of him
Veronica loves manipulating her vagina until she explodes
I don't tell her these things, and she doesn't ask
Robert Lionel Fanthorpe fills up the word count in a science fiction novel: she brushed her teeth
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
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
She practices her speech
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
i gave her my heart. she gave me a pen.
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.
she lit her thumb on fire
She is the sea. Above her, he is thunder.
She disappeared as if he had only dreamed her
do not look upon her; you shall be blinded
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
She asked me to read her a poem
She, the Last Leviathan. She, the Station Agent. Chin on her Palm, she Watches Every Departure.
pretends to sleep as he looks her over
She nicknamed her vagina "Crusty"
She smokes. It wraps around her wrists and clings to her neck.
She always confused her greys with white.
I gave her my heart, she tore it apart, and who gives a fart.
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 said her father died of cancer in the sixties
A girl I know had her jaw wired shut, and she vomited.
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
Outside the train station she was the only person wearing an Orange raincoat and a look of surprise
She looks at me and she laughs
She Looks Good, but She Has an Ugly Heart
she looks smilingly towards the future
She just looks at me
look straight through you
She stopped and took a second look
that's where she lost me as I began imagining my family amongst blood-dripped hedges
Proof of the existence of irrational numbers
Guido Ubaldus' proof of the existence of God
The Trial by Existence
Navier-Stokes Existence and Smoothness
The Cartesian Argument for the Existence of God
Spinoza's Argument for the Existence of God
Existence of the System Administrator
Meditation VI: Of the Existence of Material Things, and of the real Distinction between the Soul and Body of Man
The corporate existence as yet another a way of avoiding life
Your job is to find kitten. This task is complicated by the existence of various things which are not kitten.
The Crosgasby Proof of the Existence of God
Banana proof of the existence of God
Existence of Primitives
immediate family
Uncle Moe's Family Feedbag
Family reunion
family gatherings
Partridge Family Temple
The Kallikak Family
Al-Anon Family Groups
All in the Family
Tony DeFranco and the DeFranco Family
Playing hooky from the family
Family Ties
Republic Family Restaurant
Focus on the Family

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