black
grey
blue
red
brown
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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.

Lang Leav

I don’t think about myself as much as I used to. I guess that’s a good thing. I only think about the things that are missing from me.
LANG LEAV

Goodness Missing Myself Thinking
And I sighed and wept for what could not be–and for all that could have been.
LANG LEAV

Cry Dream Future Myself Sadness
The less you speak, the more weight your words will carry when you do.
LANG LEAV

Important Talk Value Weight Word Yourself
What I feel for you is at once the expression of language and the absence of it.
LANG LEAV

Absence Expression Feeling Language Myself
In cemeteries of memories, our love will lie in caskets.
LANG LEAV

Break Up Fade Love Lying Memories Ourselves Time
She was the book that was not written. The sentence that was not scripted. She was the word you wished you could have said.
LANG LEAV

Book Scripture Word Writing Yourself
You said my sadness was like the sun, beautiful from a distance but it hurt you too much to come closer.
LANG LEAV

Beautiful Close Hurt Sadness Sun Yourself
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
I have always thought of memories as fragments, like colored glass shards in a kaleidoscope. It is the source of great beauty in our lives, yet the cause of such heartache. It remains the bridge between our past and present – it gives weight and dimension to our very existence.
LANG LEAV

Beautiful Color Dimension Existence Fragment Glass Greatness Heart Broken Memories Ourselves Source
My indecision. I wanted everything because I didn’t want anything enough.
LANG LEAV

Decision Enough Myself
How many people have we known all our lives and never once loved. How many people have we loved and never known.
LANG LEAV

Deep Known Live Love People
It was beautifully worded and painfully read; the things that were written, were those never said.
LANG LEAV

Beautiful Myself Pain Reading Word
Do you remember the song that was playing the night we met? No, but I remember every song I have heard since you left.
LANG LEAV

Myself Night Remember Song
You are a writer bleeding words onto a page. And the ones who hate you will trample on that page. And the ones who love you will cut you, to keep you bleeding.
LANG LEAV

Blood Page Writing Yourself
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.
LANG LEAV

Known People Self Love Thinking Whole Yourself
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.
LANG LEAV

Finding Patience Voice World Yourself

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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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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Popular Authors

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