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Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "she settled into her new life"

while she sleeps, i write myself into her life
He touched her once and she turned into a golden creature. He never touched her again.
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
A dose of mystery slipped into her cocktail while she was in the ladies' room
she left her handwriting all over the calendar
Of all the dorm rooms in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.
She is the sea. Above her, he is thunder.
She opened her eyes, looked at a world made entirely of white light
sunset rainwater turns her sidewalk chalk-art into a sherbert delight; a surprise gift from chaos that tumbles her like tinkling bells onto the wet grass
She said her father died of cancer in the sixties
She is so beautiful, I gave up Nihilism for her
"Describe life in two words" she said. "Survival test" he replied.
When she sleeps, is she not moving her legs aside for an unknown garrison?
And she, with her beautiful words and such a fire burning inside
The portion of her face she allows me to see
She is willing to attempt to retrieve the data. Go with her.
I gave her my heart, she tore it apart, and who gives a fart.
She picked herself up, wiping away at her dignity
Sometimes the apathy she saw made her want to curl up and cry
Some nights, alone, he thinks of her, and some nights, alone, she thinks of him
i gave her my heart. she gave me a pen.
a total loss of control over her life
She didn't wave goodbye so much as slightly raise her hand
the way she wears her weary
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
She Called in Her Soul to Come and See
Gaily they went down in the lush field a treasure of valuables or specie or bullion lodged with a crust of bread into her coat of arms weaving currying the embroidering of silk in summer.
She disappeared as if he had only dreamed her
She smokes. It wraps around her wrists and clings to her neck.
And when she turned into a man, we were so proud
Somehow my life falls into place
She always confused her greys with white.
she lit her thumb on fire
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
She walked into the room
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
show me a garden that's bursting into life
Robert Lionel Fanthorpe fills up the word count in a science fiction novel: she brushed her teeth
life is about falling into a hole, and then climbing out of the hole
When she woke up, her hands were still dreaming
Veronica loves manipulating her vagina until she explodes
She always was devious in her beauty
Life's a Bitch and I'm Her Pimp
I come home, she lifted up her wings. I guess that this must be the place.
She Will Have Her Way
She Will Have Her Way: The Songs Of Tim & Neil Finn
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
why she makes her wishes at 7:07
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 was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
Hands cupped into a half circle, he bent foward to help her catch a light
You can play with my ex-girlfriend, but treat her like the lady that she is.
She practices her speech
A girl I know had her jaw wired shut, and she vomited.
She said, while hugging a bowl of turnips close to her bosom
I haven't seen her in a month. She is still beautiful.
She asked me to read her a poem
You put a hand on her hip, she permits it.
She, the Last Leviathan. She, the Station Agent. Chin on her Palm, she Watches Every Departure.
Things to consider before you bring a hamster into your life
My real life, burst into the proper colors
She thought about giving him her heart
Her sleeves ride up on her arms when she moves
Her lack of response opened a gate through which my mind started to wander, into a wilderness where the shadows all had teeth...
in her other life
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
I have failed to integrate the machine experience into my life
she may hold life
Her hands on my back; slipping into sleep
I don't like her because she won't like me
She found her bliss between the headphones, and pursed her lips.
As the band laughed, her finger traced his spine, and he folded into her
Her perception of how gorgeous she is will be evident in her lack of movement during sex
The Right to Write: An Invitation and Initiation into the Writing Life
An ocean away and here he was, seeping into her
serene. She sips her tea
I don't tell her these things, and she doesn't ask
She sat in virginal white, eyes closed, with only her face in rose
I don't think she even knows that I make her smile
She plugs her tears in the way you'd keep a dam from breaking
At night, her eyes closed, she would
She who leaves men as flaming wrecks in the ditch on the side of the road in her wake, yea, even submarines
She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
She wears her failed relationships like a shield
She does not take her trip. She does not shout out loud.
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
She was never mine. I always shared her.
What's she gonna look like with a chimney on her?
She is the queen of accidental magic. Her used kleenexes, taken by the wind, become soulful ghosts.
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
She gets caught in the little world beneath her sheets
she had already found her party
does she need to touch her own face to know?
She flies with her own wings
if you fear spells, look away when she decides to share her hair with the wind.
It happened to everyone else; she swore it wouldn't to her
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
My hands on her back; slipping into sleep
I told her I could read her mind, but she didn't believe me. I could tell.
They walk around her like she is in danger of breaking
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
Because I still love her, because I know she still loves me.
Her raised middle finger came into focus
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
When I look into her eyes, I no longer care about what the world thinks. This is what it feels like to be alive.
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
surrounded by stars, her dark hair blending into the fabric of the night sky
If her secrets spilled from her eyes into his
She knows no truth except her own.
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 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 nicknamed her vagina "Crusty"
she gave her heart to a falling star
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
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.
Into each life some rain must fall
Got to Get You into My Life
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 does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
She crashed her car trying to avoid a butterfly
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
i kissed her one last time, then walked out of her life forever
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane
After living a life in darkness, the first steps into the light are the hardest to bear.
you only live once, but your life echoes into eternity
She said the dance is a prayer. A prayer to toss into the tide all the weight of oblivion and humiliation. This is not a dance for one, fool - where are you?
As she walked into the sea she complained, "I'm drowning."
She touched my life for a second and made everything peach-scented
And then, she expressed frustration with life in general
alcohol neatly halves my life into you and no you
I note that she is pretty, but we are off into the city, my werewolf friend and I
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.
Sadness is just a crack in my life that I fall into, sometimes
If only I could get into her head
her
Her braid; I obeyed
The Lark Burying Her Father
The Woman and Her Hen
The Lark and Her Young Ones
I don't think of her
I can see her face
Things you can tell just by looking at her
Take Her up to Monto
The Author to Her Book
My love in her attire doth show her wit
putting on her makeup
I daydream of her
His 'N' Hers
For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her
A really good sandwich that ideath could make to take to work with her
The Old Woman And Her Pig
Her Majesty
There is no Goddess but Goddess and She is Your Goddess
The Saran Wrap Dominatrix and Her Cellophane Bondage Slave
Since I left her
A Jury of Her Peers: 2
The sad thing is, if you get her you'll be sick of her in a year
A New Student and Her Father
Including her knees and a dragon made from a sock
her eyes
watching her dance
dance with her
I met Death face to face, and I mocked her!
I never called her momma
Bathe her and bring her to me
I still find strands of her hair in bed
Her knees
A man who never sees a pretty girl without loving her a little
Property of Her Majesty The Queen
What do girls think about guys when they catch guys staring at their breasts, but the guy is actually trying to read her shirt?
Somewhere someone is tired of taking her shit
My preconceived view of perfection could not accommodate her.

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