Of all you’ve used against me, the worst has been my words.
LANG LEAVWe all have moments of darkness, moments when we are so unlike ourselves. And like vultures they wait for a slip, a misstep, then they take that part of us and try to convince the world that is all we are.
More Lang Leav Quotes
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Our love story comes to me in waves, in movie stills and long summer afternoons spent under a sky of incessant blue. I still think of your eyes in flashes of color, your hands in a frenetic, feverish blur-your smile a mosaic of light and shadow. I still find myself lost in those moments of abstraction.
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You talk to me in riddles, I will answer you in rhyme. I loved you for a little- I will love you for all time.
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What is she like? I was told – she is a melancholy soul.
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Before the tears that tore us, when our history was before us.
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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.
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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 hope someday you will find me and remember what I once meant to you.
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Fear isn’t a reason when it comes to love–it’s an excuse. Anyone who has ever been in love will tell you that.
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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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I know you are scared. Who could blame you? Love is a hurricane wrapped inside a chrysalis. And you are a girl walking into the storm.
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The things that seem to matter less, are the ones we put on show.
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Don’t you get it?” he said. “The ones who are afraid of heights don’t trust themselves enough to jump.
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You won’t hear from me again after today, and I don’t want you to worry. I’ll be okay. Because I have to be.
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There are things I miss that I shouldn’t, and things I don’t that I should. Sometimes we want what we couldn’t, sometimes we love what we could.
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You are a writer bleeding words onto a page. And the ones who hate you will trample on that page. And the ones who love you will cut you, to keep you bleeding.
LANG LEAV