I have buried myself so deep in my words that sometimes I can’t tell if I am the person writing or the one hiding between the lines.
LANG LEAVIt was beautifully worded and painfully read; the things that were written, were those never said.
More Lang Leav Quotes
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We had no ending, no said goodbye. For all my life, I’ll wonder why.
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The most beautiful thing is not when you learn to live without something: it’s the moment you realize you never needed it in the first place.
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We were born to walk this world in intersecting lines.
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Then there is the boy you can never stop thinking about. Whenever you see his name, it trips you up. Even if it’s one that belongs to many others, even if he belongs to someone else.
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Before I fell in live with words, with setting skies and singing birds – it was you I fell in love with first.
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There are things we sacrifice for love, that we willingly give. But no one who loves you will ever ask you to give up more than you are willing.
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When was the last time you felt like someone knew you and not the person you’ve been pretending to be. When was the last time you felt like yourself.
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Life has a way of working itself out. You’ll see.
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Now I know being close to you was never about the proximity.
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You’re young and there’s still so much ahead. So much uncertainty and doubt. It keeps you up at night-this wild, restless feeling. But you don’t know how free you are. For this short, miraculous time, you have no one to answer to, nothing to lose. You belong wholly to yourself.
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In time she will learn, not to miss them.
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When love finds you, it doesn’t come as crashing waves or thunderbolts. It appears as a song on the radio or a particular blue in the sky. It dawns on you slowly, like a warm winter sunrise-where the promise of summer shines out from within.
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I build my walls from the mess they leave.
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I saw love in your smile and I recognized it for the first time in my life. But you had a plane to catch and I was already home.
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We will remain unwritten through history, no X will mark us on the map; but in books of prose and poetry, you loved me once, in a paragraph.
LANG LEAV