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.
LANG LEAVShe was the book that was not written. The sentence that was not scripted. She was the word you wished you could have said.
More Lang Leav Quotes
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Have you ever loved a rose, and bled against her thorns; and swear each night to let her go, then love her more by dawn.
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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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How do I thank my mother for giving me the life she desperately wanted to give herself.
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But tomorrow, tomorrow could be different, and that is what keeps me going today.
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I know how hard it is to have to love someone in secret.
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It was the year you learned that shooting stars were either a blessing or a curse, depending on what you wanted to believe.
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There is a savagery to what you feel. It eats you up inside. But you will get through it; you don’t need his mouth to placate you. You don’t need his hands to untangle the butterfly knot in your heart. Your love is a fire that will burn itself out. Let it ravage 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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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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But if you don’t love my every flaw, then you mustn’t love me- not at all.
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When you don’t have the whole attention of someone, you find yourself begging for it from everyone.
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We had no ending, no said goodbye. For all my life, I’ll wonder why.
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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.
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People who are prone to sadness are more likely to pick up a pen.
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When in truth, it is the transparency that kills you. The pain of seeing through to something you can never quite touch.
LANG LEAV