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Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "she was proud"

She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
And when she came back she was nobody's wife
I was tired. It was late. She was Russian.
She was cilantro, jalapeño, habanero. She was the hot plate you must not touch.
She was coming out as he was going in.
And when she turned into a man, we were so proud
He was an ant on an ill-defined mission. She was the trapdoor spider of love.
She was an intellectual prostitute, seducing me with profound truisms
someday, when she will think back upon the time when she was as yet undishonored
She was watching me and I didn’t know it.
She always was all tea and oranges that came all the way from China
The girl didn't know if she was loved until he said yes.
She knew what she was doing
She was like a candle in the wind: unreliable
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
She always was devious in her beauty
Fast-talking career gal who thought she was one of the boys
When that cow would walk it was like she was dancing
"He was a terrible man," she sobbed, between bites of alimony
The flowers smiled, but she was gone
I said I was sorry. Then she looked at me.
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.
Existentialism is that girlfriend who cheated on you. Postmodernism is who she was with.
The Abridged Edition: She was to one side, he was to the other, an untested bridge between them
She was free
She was so tall, and I was so in love
She is and was
She was feminine in the most displaced sense I had ever seen, a known quality refracted through stained glass windows.
She didn't know what outside was anymore.
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
I'm sorry I was speeding, officer, but I really have to get to the hospital
she was once a stealthy ghostship in the fog, now she shines wherever she walks
She was the seed of a strange tomorrow
She moved so easily all I could think of was sunlight
She was locked in time
She probably thought your first language was English; your real first language was Joyce
She was steady
For a lawyer she was surprisingly like a child. Sometimes.
I was throwing around useless proverbs when all she needed was to be held and told that she was beautiful
She was a Surrealist Woman, She was like a Figure in a Dream
When she was bad
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
She was pain and pleasure all at once, wrapped up in needles and Ramones T-shirts
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
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 House on the Island Where She Was Born
To a girl who thought she was moving away
She was very beautiful. Y'know?
She was never mine. I always shared her.
Outside the train station she was the only person wearing an Orange raincoat and a look of surprise
She was the cutest necromancer I ever did see
She was too beautiful to be human
Because, perhaps she was cold
she was just the dry smell of gasoline
What the hell was she thinking?
she was waylaid by an octopus
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 was so quiet that nobody heard her
She dreamt she was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty field
She grew a little older, while he was telling 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 was cilantro, jalepeno, habanero. She was the hot plate you must not touch.
She was thinking of a boy in California who had a couch and a job
Besides the part where she was the only one
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 buttery. She was asking for it. She was delicious. Let's all give in.
piano outside in the snow. and she was spinning
When she was new, she rolled around the sky like a black umbrella blown by the wind
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
She Was 18, It Was Summer
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
Jessica, too tall but still lovely, was not sure she would or should drop the whale
He stretched out his arms but she was not there
She was so pleased to learn that she was right
He dreamt he was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty bed
I will wait for you in the ruins of the food court near what was once the Cinnabon
Queen Mother is 100 - The UK is proud (apparently)
Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?
Death Be Not Proud
drug free and proud
Tarquin the Proud
It Makes a Fellow Proud to Be a Soldier
Proud New York
proud flesh
Proud of Your Boy
proud *muslim (user)
He climbed on top the fallen ruins of the once tall and proud buildings
and I feel so proud when the Reckoning arrives
house proud
The Few and the Proud
Pronoun and proud
We hold the proud distinction of being among the very last humans who will ever die
We hold the proud distinction of being among the very last humans who will ever live
I am a proud page-flipper
She said
he/she
She Walks in Beauty
She stopped and took a second look
She pulled the "I love you" on me
That's all she wrote
What She Said
She sells sea shells
She approached me with some vague line
She Who Is
she left a little Java-shaped hole in my heart
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
Surah 58 She that Disputeth
Surah 60 She that is to be Examined
Murder She Wrote
English As She Is Spoke: Idiotisms and Proverbs
She breaks hearts almost as often as she breaks the speed of sound
She arose and said matter-of-factly
she turns and smiles, then walks away
She misses me
So then she said
(s)he
She has the biggest cock of any girl I know
I knew she wasn't faking
So happy she drools
She writes notes to me, to keep me in check
She Came In Through The Bathroom Window
God is a she
She said, while hugging a bowl of turnips close to her bosom
She thought about giving him her heart
Is she really going out with him?
what she kisses twice
She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
She Is Suffering
she being Brand
The picture she drew in my notebook
A chorus of phones each time she calls
And then, she expressed frustration with life in general
Any woman who thinks she is pro-life should ask herself
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
Who am I to critique that which she is?
She has trouble acting normal
She said she loved me
She dumped me when she found out I'd been faking my Scottish accent
She just sat there
Each thing she learned became part of herself, to be used over and over in new adventures
If she really wanted to fit in, she'd get a smaller dog.
This child has talent. She needs a better box of paints.
She told me I'd make a good Satan
Jennifer, is she your friend?
I don't like her because she won't like me
She found her bliss between the headphones, and pursed her lips.
The vacuum she left
She Loves You
Her perception of how gorgeous she is will be evident in her lack of movement during sex
She Loves Me
She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
So she wet the bed
She said yes
If she were an insect, she'd be a moth in search of a flame
She leaves a busy emptiness in the room
She does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
She is not beautiful
She Wanted to Leave
she broke my heart
She will remember your heart when men are fairy tales in books written by rabbits
All right. She can fly circles around Uranus, but where's the bathroom?
She is stupidly keeping herself a secret, when I know she has sparkly things to show me
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane
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 left without saying goodbye
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
she does not know how much I need this
She Misses Him
She threw out all my letters
Isn't She Lovely
What's she gonna look like with a chimney on her?
She sat in virginal white, eyes closed, with only her face in rose
She bought a new smile every week when we first started seeing each other. Then I had to buy them.
She remembers the stars
she left her handwriting all over the calendar
Two condoms, she makes me wear
She doesn't know what he sees, but sometimes it makes his face beautiful
This is why she stays
She hates my futon
She Takes Flight

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