Here’s the story of my life. Hoping they would care about me or wishing they wouldn’t care so much.
LANG LEAVWhen 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.
More Lang Leav Quotes
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Who you love and who loves you back determines so much in your life.
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He gave her such gifts – not the kind that were put in boxes, but the sort that filled her with imagination, breathing indescribable happiness into her life.
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Don’t let them tell you that your pain should be confined to the past, that it bears no relevance to the present.
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Have you ever loved a rose, and bled against her thorns; and swear each night to let her go, then love her more by dawn.
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I have happened in so many places, to so many people – the essence of me lives on in these nuances, these moments.
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When you don’t have the whole attention of someone, you find yourself begging for it from everyone.
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You can’t borrow from the future, to make up for the past.
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We spoke once about lovers who kept finding each other, no matter how many times the world came between them. And I think I had to break your heart, and you had to break mine. How else could we know the worth of what we were given?
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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 look for you, the way I was taught to look both ways when crossing the road. Uptight and wary, bracing myself for something I know could break me.
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A book travels for days, for years, sometimes for centuries to meet you at an exact point in time.
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The words I heard from you today, are said when there’s nothing left to say. What I would give to make you stay, I would give it all away.
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Some pieces will sing to your present, others may echo of your past, and the rest could whisper of your future.
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I don’t think all writers are sad, she said. I think it’s the other way around- all sad people write.
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In the wrong hands, your past is a weapon.
LANG LEAV