She lived by the rules, never compromising, never blinded or diverted by circumstance.

She was Ellen Aldridge, a widow of good repute who was employed by Gorton's wife and lived with the family.

She and her husband had formerly lived in New York, where she had many friends, but Mr. Flannagan thought the country would be safer in case of war.

She lived in an ultra-modern house whose decoration, appointments, paint, and even pets were chosen to complement her coloring ; ;

She knew that I lived at a good address on the Gold Coast, that I had once been a medical student and was thinking of returning to the university to finish my medical studies.

She lived alone in the older part of the city, in one of those renovated houses whose brick facade some early settler had constructed.

She lived on the Palatine Hill in Rome.

She lived as a virtual prisoner at Durham House in London.

She gave birth to a daughter on 10 November, but the child was weak and lived either only a few hours or at most a week.

She lived in Rome until her death in 1380.

According to Rachael Hanel, " She lived off her savings, interest income from a trust, money from her parents, and selling her simple, Rubenesque line drawings.

She was born on 5 July 1996 and she lived until the age of six, at which point she died from a progressive lung disease.

She has lived in California since 1982.

She sends letters, in Ahab's name, to the elders and nobles who lived near Naboth.

She lived until 1880.

She lived there in the 1960s with her boyfriend Country Joe McDonald.

She lived separately from Philby, settling with their children in Crowborough while he lived first in London and later in Beirut.

She has lived much of her life under the alias Sara Jane Olson, which is now her legal name.

" She has undertaken a signature personal element of traveling around the country and talking to women at hospital and community events featuring the experiences of women who live, or had lived, with the condition.

She traveled many times to Africa to photograph the Nuba tribes in Sudan, with whom she sporadically lived, learning about their culture so she could photograph them more easily.

She spent her last years in a close personal and professional collaboration with anthropologist Rhoda Metraux, with whom she lived from 1955 until her death in 1978. Letters between the two published in 2006 with the permission of Mead's daughter clearly express a romantic relationship.

She lived exclusively in the company of her German ladies-in-waiting and had difficulty in adapting herself to the Swedish people, countryside and climate.

She lived much of her adult life in France, where she first befriended Edgar Degas and later exhibited among the Impressionists.

She was amazingly light, and so relaxed in his arms that he wasn't even sure she was conscious.

She was carrying a quirt, and she started to raise it, then let it fall again and dangle from her wrist.

She glanced around the clearing, taking in the wagon and the load of supplies and trappings scattered over the ground, the two kids, the whiteface bull that was chewing its cud just within the far reaches of the firelight.

She said, and her tone had softened until it was almost friendly.

She had picked up the quirt and was twirling it around her wrist and smiling at him.

She was quick.

She brought up her free hand to hit him, but this time he was quicker.

She regarded them as signs that she was nearing the glen she sought, and she was glad to at last be doing something positive in her unenunciated, undefined struggle with the mountain and its darkling inhabitants.

She was sure she would reach the pool by climbing, and she clung to that belief despite the increasing number of obstacles.

She was bewildered.

She was standing in a thick grove.

She already knew this unwholesome, chilling atmosphere that was somehow grotesquely alive.

She was glad, completely and unselfishly glad, to see that things were working out the right way for both Sally and Dan.

She was still hugging the stained coat around her, so I said, `` Relax, let me take your things.

She was wearing nothing beneath the coat.

She was standing with her back to the glass door.

She was just not able to break the spell.

She was telling herself that this might just be her reward at the end of a long meaningful search for truth.

Meredith was irritated when the Grafin knocked at his door and told him, `` She is a great beauty!!

She confessed she was unhappy, he asked was it her husband??

She began to explain, `` There was this poet, in Italy '' He interrupted, `` Please don't judge all poets ''.

She was like charcoal, he thought -- dark, opaque, explosive.