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.
LANG LEAVI don’t know how you are so familiar to me-or why it feels less like I am getting to know you and more as though I am remembering who you are. How every smile, every whisper brings me closer to the impossible conclusion that I have known you before, I have loved you before-in another time, a different place, some other existence.
More Lang Leav Quotes
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Let her be herself. Or she will be somebody else’s.
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Before I fell in live with words, with setting skies and singing birds – it was you I fell in love with first.
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When someone stirs a world of emotion in you and it’s so intense you can barely stand to be with him.
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I am already nostalgic for what we have, even with you still here.
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Are you like me? Do you give too much, too quickly? Do you throw yourself blindly at the world, thinking that it will always open its arms up to you?
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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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My heart is like a time capsule-it keeps safe the memory of you. I know it’s harder with you gone than if you had never been here at all-but I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
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Of all you’ve used against me, the worst has been my words.
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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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You’re still crying about him aren’t you? Silly girl. What good will it do you to spill those sky blu tears? You meant either everything to him or absolutely nothing at all.
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Because sooner or later, all kinds of love – crazy love, wild love- fade into the same thing. The love becomes old and predictable -safe.
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If a boy ever says, you remind me of someone–don’t fall in love with him. You will never be anything more than second best.
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Anything and everything, the two almost the same–everything says, have it all; anything, one to claim.
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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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The ache will always be there, but the intensity will fade, and you’ll find other beautiful things to fill your days with.
LANG LEAV