Findings:

Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "She was the queen of the Underground monster kingdom in the last game who left her husband Asgore after he vowed to kill all humans. She made it her mission to protect any humans who fell into the underground. She tried to adopt you."

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
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
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 left her handwriting all over the calendar
I gave her my heart, she tore it apart, and who gives a fart.
She who leaves men as flaming wrecks in the ditch on the side of the road in her wake, yea, even submarines
A dose of mystery slipped into her cocktail while she was in the ladies' room
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.
He touched her once and she turned into a golden creature. He never touched her again.
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
She, the Last Leviathan. She, the Station Agent. Chin on her Palm, she Watches Every Departure.
All he left her was alone
She was never mine. I always shared her.
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.
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
I remember when it was me who made her skin flush
She is the sea. Above her, he is thunder.
He was an ant on an ill-defined mission. She was the trapdoor spider of love.
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
She was too beautiful to be human
Fast-talking career gal who thought she was one of the boys
Sometimes the apathy she saw made her want to curl up and cry
She was thinking of a boy in California who had a couch and a job
She was a committed romantic and an anarcha-feminist. This was hard for her because it meant she couldn't blow up beautiful buildings.
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
She is the queen of accidental magic. Her used kleenexes, taken by the wind, become soulful ghosts.
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
To a girl who thought she was moving away
Some nights, alone, he thinks of her, and some nights, alone, she thinks of him
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
Any woman who thinks she is pro-life should ask herself
I remember when it was me who made her toilet flush
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 disappeared as if he had only dreamed her
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
She always was devious in her beauty
She opened her eyes, looked at a world made entirely of white light
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
while she sleeps, i write myself into her life
My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He Ate Me
God is a pretty girl across the bar who smiles and waves in your direction; and you think she is waving at you
It was men who made breasts into a secret.
I haven't seen her in a month. She is still beautiful.
A man who never sees a pretty girl without loving her a little
she gave her heart to a falling star
An ocean away and here he was, seeping into her
She Who Is
she seems bored with me after all this time
Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.
All that was left of her was a damp handkerchief
A girl I know had her jaw wired shut, and she vomited.
She asked me to read her a poem
She Called in Her Soul to Come and See
We hold the proud distinction of being among the very last humans who will ever die
Robert Lionel Fanthorpe fills up the word count in a science fiction novel: she brushed her teeth
She wears her failed relationships like a shield
They walk around her like she is in danger of breaking
I come home, she lifted up her wings. I guess that this must be the place.
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane
I set my sister up with her husband, and all I got was this great dress and a trip to Hawaii
She Will Have Her Way
she looked at me then whispered, we are all made of stardust
She gets caught in the little world beneath her sheets
The portion of her face she allows me to see
She picked herself up, wiping away at her dignity
The Abridged Edition: She was to one side, he was to the other, an untested bridge between them
she lit her thumb on fire
she made them, like fire, expansible over all space
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?
I told her I could read her mind, but she didn't believe me. I could tell.
She was coming out as he was going in.
She flies with her own wings
She crashed her car trying to avoid a butterfly
I don't like her because she won't like me
She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
She was buttery. She was asking for it. She was delicious. Let's all give in.
serene. She sips her tea
You can play with my ex-girlfriend, but treat her like the lady that she is.
I was throwing around useless proverbs when all she needed was to be held and told that she was beautiful
When she woke up, her hands were still dreaming
does she need to touch her own face to know?
What's she gonna look like with a chimney on her?
Veronica loves manipulating her vagina until she explodes
"He was a terrible man," she sobbed, between bites of alimony
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.
He dreamt he was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty bed
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
i gave her my heart. she gave me a pen.
She is willing to attempt to retrieve the data. Go with her.
Because I still love her, because I know she still loves me.
if you fear spells, look away when she decides to share her hair with the wind.
I would have attempted to draw her if she had stayed that way.
She had become a mutton for punishment and he was a wolf
She knows no truth except her own.
She smokes. It wraps around her wrists and clings to her neck.
She said her father died of cancer in the sixties
She asked me if I loved her and I showed her the tattoo
The girl didn't know if she was loved until he said yes.
When she sleeps, is she not moving her legs aside for an unknown garrison?
She said, while hugging a bowl of turnips close to her bosom
Her sleeves ride up on her arms when she moves
For the first time in either of her lives, she is held gently
She thought about giving him her heart
We hold the proud distinction of being among the very last humans who will ever live
The memory cuts through her like the blade she wields
Her perception of how gorgeous she is will be evident in her lack of movement during sex
She keeps her lies everywhere
She nicknamed her vagina "Crusty"
She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
She found her bliss between the headphones, and pursed her lips.
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
She does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
It happened to everyone else; she swore it wouldn't to her
She always was all tea and oranges that came all the way from China
She always confused her greys with white.
Who am I to critique that which she is?
she plays into the stereotype she made of herself
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
Here's Me Inside Her But I Can Tell From Her Vagina She Doesn't Really Care
She Who Holds the Sky
I don't think she even knows that I make her smile
She who abandons does not return
She sat in virginal white, eyes closed, with only her face in rose
It's too bad she won't live. But then again, who does?
At night, her eyes closed, she would
The Princess who was Hidden Underground
She does not take her trip. She does not shout out loud.
She plugs her tears in the way you'd keep a dam from breaking
she is the sort of woman who, when put to the magnifying glass, refused to burn
And she, with her beautiful words and such a fire burning inside
she had already found her party
He stretched out his arms but she was not there
She Will Have Her Way: The Songs Of Tim & Neil Finn
Of all the dorm rooms in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.
the way she wears her weary
She is so beautiful, I gave up Nihilism for her
She was pain and pleasure all at once, wrapped up in needles and Ramones T-shirts
I don't tell her these things, and she doesn't ask
You put a hand on her hip, she permits it.
She didn't wave goodbye so much as slightly raise her hand
why she makes her wishes at 7:07
My friend is dating someone who likes him far more than he likes her
Hands cupped into a half circle, he bent foward to help her catch a light
All the things she had at one point wanted to be
all she ever wanted
I killed him today, he who does not exist
you never felt her hot blood on your face but, hey, who's keeping track
As the band laughed, her finger traced his spine, and he folded into her
all I ever learned from love was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
He was the kind of man who shacked up for shelter
she, he, and me
She couldn't imagine that he liked dancing
She doesn't know what he sees, but sometimes it makes his face beautiful
she likes to dance on the edge. it's all she's known and she won't change now
he/she
lest she lose all else
It will be a love story ... for she will be my heroine for all time
Meanwhile, the PILOT, who has been laughing hysterically through the entire sequence, finally loses it. He falls out of his chair and bangs his head against the panel, causing the ship to lose control and crash into a nearby planet
He who does not forget his first love will not recognize his last
She lights everything up. He glows in the dark.
She makes the sign of the teaspoon, he makes the sign of the wave
Her lack of response opened a gate through which my mind started to wander, into a wilderness where the shadows all had teeth...
He and She
All that’s left of her is black print
it doesn't matter who I was, all that matters is who I am
He says she says
He and she are one
After all, who looks at the sky anymore?
The artifact was completely impenetrable to all forms of matter except living human flesh
Monster Truck Rally Announcer guy who comes over and eats all your food
For every rich man who tries to leave this world for a better one with his fancy tomb surrounded by mourners, there are many more who perish alone in the cold, forgotten by all but God.
He Said, She Said

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