How do I thank my mother for giving me the life she desperately wanted to give herself.
LANG LEAV
Related Topics
Destruction
To never do the things I’ve done that once had led to my undoing.
More Lang Leav Quotes
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How do I thank my mother for giving me the life she desperately wanted to give herself.
LANG LEAV -
One day you meet someone and for some inexplicable reason, you feel more connected to this stranger than anyone else.
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I can’t believe how hard it is. The pain is indescribable. It’s like I’ve been turned into sandstone and my insides are being slowly hollowed out by a chisel and mallet.
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It was a question I had worn on my lips for days – like a loose thread on my favourite sweater I couldn’t resist pulling – despite knowing it could all unravel around me. “Do you love me, I ask?” In your hesitation I found my answer.
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When words run dry, he does not try, nor do I. We are on par. He just is, I just am and we just are.
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The only ones they can turn against you are those who were never with you.
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That’s the thing about writers – on one hand everything is sacred to them, but, on the other, nothing really is.
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Take me someplace where I can feel something-I want to give away my heart. Tell me his name so I can know love when it speaks to me. Give me someone I can write about.
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A Betrayal I cannot undo what I have done; I can’t un-sing a song that’s sung. And the saddest thing about my regret- I can’t forgive me, and you can’t forget.
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Where are you?” She asked. “I have been searching all my life.” “Stop looking for me,” Love replied, “and I will find you.
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Most people want to save the entire world. It’s a lovely thought, and I’m not saying it’s not a noble pursuit-but it’s impossible to save everyone. You just have to pick your little corner of the world and focus your energy there. That’s the only way you will ever make a difference.
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I know you were born with your heart already broken. But the world began in pieces and somehow made itself whole.
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We 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.
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In many ways, a book is, in itself, a tiny universe. Each page is like a newly formed galaxy, fashioned from a single, pulsing thought. A book travels for days, for years, sometimes for centuries to meet you at an exact point in time.
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I used to think people were like lighthouses. That they were there to protect you. But they’re no. People are lime whirlpools. They pull you in; they drag you under. You have to work so hard just to keep your head above water.
LANG LEAV