I have given so much to things that weren’t worth my time. When all along, it’s the people I love that I should have carried.
LANG LEAVBe patient. Your voice will find its way into the world, not in one loud instance but a steady trickle that turns into a deluge.
More Lang Leav Quotes
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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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I loved you once and now I must spend my whole life explaining why.
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Whatever path you choose will take you to the same destination. The only thing that should guide you is your intuition.
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Who you love and who loves you back determines so much in your life.
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My father was a house,my mother was a home.
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If you love me for what you see, only your eyes would be in love with me.
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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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Don’t stay where you are needed. Go where you are loved.
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Souls do not have calendars or clocks, nor do they understand the notion of time or distance. They only know it feels right to know one other.
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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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Some Time Out The time may not be prime for us, though you are a special person. We may be just two different clocks, that do not tock, in unison.
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It should be my right to mourn someone who has yet to leave this world but no longer wants to be part of mine.
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I loved you more than love was allowed.
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Some days it felt like a burden, to smile for you. To keep the lines of worry from etching into your forehead.
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The only ones they can turn against you are those who were never with you.
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It was pure bliss and absolute torture at the same time. I was in daze, as if my brain had suddenly packed up and gone on vacation. I could barely string words together in a sentence.
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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.
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The distance from you is measured in how far I’ve come.
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Because someday, in one way or another, you will be taken from me or I you.
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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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Then there is the boy you can never stop thinking about. Whenever you see his name, it trips you up. Even if it’s one that belongs to many others, even if he belongs to someone else.
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And I told him, if I am so hard to love, then let me run wild.
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Hands are no longer hands. They are caresses. Mouths are no longer mouths. They are kisses. My name is no longer a name, it is a call. And love is no longer love – love is you.
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It is only the year that is ending. So why does it feel like the world is?
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He swept in like a tsunami, wave after wave, and I didn’t stand a chance. All those warnings, all the things they tried to prepare me for-lost in an instant-to the enormity of what I felt.
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There are things we sacrifice for love, that we willingly give. But no one who loves you will ever ask you to give up more than you are willing.
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