black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

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.

Lang Leav

Whatever path you choose will take you to the same destination. The only thing that should guide you is your intuition.
LANG LEAV

Choice Destination Guide Intuition Path Yourself
For me, that was the death of the word, or; because now, there is no other. It was the end of the word, and; for I love only you.
LANG LEAV

Death I Love You Relationship
Isn’t it strange how much of our lives are interchangeable, how little is truly ours.
LANG LEAV

Live Ourselves Strange True
For she is his poet, and he is her poetry.
LANG LEAV

Herself Himself Love Poet Poetry
Strange how it mattered so much, when now it matters so little.
LANG LEAV

Important Strange Value
It was like being seen after a perpetual darkness, I replied. To be heard after a lifetime of silence.
LANG LEAV

Darkness Heard Life Reply Silence Time
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.
LANG LEAV

Abstraction Hands Light Love Moments Ourselves Shadow Wave
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 LEAV

Bury Hide Myself Person Poem Word Writing
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.
LANG LEAV

Build Home Kind Strong Stubborn Yourself
I will celebrate this life of mine, with or without you. The moon does not need the sun to tell her she is already whole.
LANG LEAV

Celebration Life Moon Myself Sun Whole
If you love my heart and mind, then you would love me, for all that I’m. But if you don’t love my every flaw, then you mustn’t love me- not at all.
LANG LEAV

Flaw Heart Love Mindset Myself
Yes, we took it all for granted-but isn’t that such a blessed thing? When you’re not even thinking about what you have, because you never imagine you someday won’t.
LANG LEAV

Blessing Grant Imagination Relationship Thinking Yourself
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.
LANG LEAV

Doubt Feeling Lose Miracle Time Young Yourself
I still search for you in crowds, in empty fields and soaring clouds. In city lights and passing cars, on winding roads and wishing stars.
LANG LEAV

Break Up Crowd Empty Light Missing Myself Search Winding Yourself
That’s the thing about writers – on one hand everything is sacred to them, but, on the other, nothing really is.
LANG LEAV

Hands Oneself Sacred Writing
I know there is a terrible distance between us. But our bodies are made of stardust, and we are hurtling through space and time, toward the most beautiful collision.
LANG LEAV

Beautiful Body Collision Distance Hurt Known Myself Space Time

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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Popular Authors

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.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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