“her”可以造什么句，her造句
Her parents encouraged her in her studies.
Her conduct displeased her family.
Her eyes mirrored her thought.
WE CAN bury her, burn her, or dump her.
Her father thought her boyfriends were zombies.
Chat with her about her about recipes.
None of her friends had deserted her.
That was her trait.
She resigned her portfolio.
Also try holding the back of her head and stroking her temple, or hold her arm and stroke her shoulder, or her thigh and stroke her knee.
Her arm was shattered and her right hip was fractured.
She held her head erect and her back straight.
Her exercise programme has worked miracles for her.
She knew he loved her.
Paul refuses to baptize her.
She was carrying a book under her arm, ie between her arm and her body.
The violence of her emotion made her set her teeth, as if were, against giving way.
When I went to see her at her parliamentary office, neitherher tan, sun-bleached hair nor her bright violet dress could hide her irritation.
Her love for her daughters, and the rebellious spirit of her younger daughter, finally forced her to moderate her stance and allow her them to make some of their own choices.
Her son, the legacy of a GI who'd loved her and left her was now twenty years old.
Each worker chooses to reveal herself or not depending on her needs, her entourage’s open-mindedness and her social environment.
Happy tears have gathered in her eyes.
Her heart, hero no regrets, no pass.
Stop her? Warn her?
Her smile masked her anger.
Her fans were stormed by her performance and her charm.
Her enemies were accusing her of treason.
Touching her hair.
Her parents fought violently through her teens. Her fiancé dumped her and, the day after attending her high school graduation, her father walked out.
Her book portrays her stepfather as a cruel man.
The needle pierced her finger.
I loved her and wanted to be with her, but I understood her reservations.
Each morning she would arrange her tools carefully, her chisel, her hammer, her mallet, her tape measure, her plumb line, and then she would look over the stones that she had to work with that day.
She coolly asked the agents to let her freshen her makeup before the police filmed her transfer to jail.
She prefers to steam her dumplings.
Her heart anguished within her.
Her skin was leathery, her hands rough.
Domestic details imprisoned her.
The story stirred her sympathy.
She smiles, and holdsout her hands, and I gently pull her out of her chair.
She stood before him, at the end of her speech, with her teeth clenched, her cheeks flaming.
Her profile page shows her picture and her specialty — neuroscience.
Her road to peace advocacy began with her social work.
Abruptly turning her face away, she covered her mouth with her shoulders heaved and she burst into sobs.
A honk behind her.
The pills gave her some relief.
His claws tore her pelt as he dragged her to the her to the ground.
