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?
LANG LEAVI think there is a sense of ownership in knowing, isn’t there? You let people in, and they claim parts of you-they fly their flag over uncharted territory and from then onward-you cease to belong wholly to yourself.
More Lang Leav Quotes
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Somehow, there is a sense of comfort in knowing nothing will ever hit me quite as hard again. Nothing will ever be as beautiful, but neither will anything hurt as much.
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But it was now time for her to go away-to find someone who could show her what happiness was.
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I know how hard it is to have to love someone in secret.
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In cemeteries of memories, our love will lie in caskets.
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And I sighed and wept for what could not be–and for all that could have been.
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How much love is a person capable of giving? I thought I knew the answer until I met you.
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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 thought you were a keeper, I wish I could have kept you.
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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.
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You can create something that is pure genius, but you have to get your timing right.
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I don’t know if what we had was love, but if it wasn’t, I hope never to fall in love. Because of you, I know I am too fragile to bear it.
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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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Doesn’t your soul remain the age you were when you first fell in love?
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I just hope you realize how much you mean to me. I just wish I could remind you of how beautiful you are. I’m sorry I haven’t told you in so long. But please don’t think I have given up on you. I will never give up on you. My arms are wide open. There is always a place for you here.
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We may be just two different clocks, that do not tock in unison.
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In the wrong hands, your past is a weapon.
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Sometimes I am caught between poetry and prose, like two lovers I can’t decide between. Prose says to me, let’s build something long and lasting. Poetry takes me by the hand, and whispers, come with me, let’s get lost for awhile.
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The second I tried to tell myself I wasn’t in love was the moment I realized I was.
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But you’re not the kind of girl who builds her house from sticks; you are a fortress, stubborn and strong. Do not give away the keys to the kingdom to anyone less than a king.
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I think there is a sense of ownership in knowing, isn’t there? You let people in, and they claim parts of you-they fly their flag over uncharted territory and from then onward-you cease to belong wholly to yourself.
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Maybe we slip in and out of alternate worlds through our minds and our imaginations, picking up scar tissue from other dimensions.
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Be patient. Your voice will find its way into the world, not in one loud instance but a steady trickle that turns into a deluge.
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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 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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Don’t stay where you are needed. Go where you are loved.
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What is she like? I was told – she is a melancholy soul.
LANG LEAV