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 LEAVSummer was felt a little more; in autumn I began to fall. When winter came with all its white, you were mine to kiss goodnight.
More Lang Leav Quotes
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It was like being seen after a perpetual darkness, I replied. To be heard after a lifetime of silence.
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We spoke once about lovers who kept finding each other, no matter how many times the world came between them. And I think I had to break your heart, and you had to break mine. How else could we know the worth of what we were given?
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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.
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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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When love finds you, it doesn’t come as crashing waves or thunderbolts. It appears as a song on the radio or a particular blue in the sky. It dawns on you slowly, like a warm winter sunrise-where the promise of summer shines out from within.
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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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I know you were born with your heart already broken. But the world began in pieces and somehow made itself whole.
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What is she like? I was told – she is a melancholy soul.
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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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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.
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The less you speak, the more weight your words will carry when you do.
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You won’t hear from me again after today, and I don’t want you to worry. I’ll be okay. Because I have to be.
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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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There are many things in life you can postpone, but love isn’t one of them.
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And I told him, if I am so hard to love, then let me run wild.
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I just hope you realize how much you mean to me. I just wish I could remind you of how beautiful you are. I’m sorry I haven’t told you in so long. But please don’t think I have given up on you. I will never give up on you. My arms are wide open. There is always a place for you here.
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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.
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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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The memory of you is fading, a little at a time, and I can feel myself forgetting.
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If they were meant to be in your life, nothing cover ever make them leave. If they weren’t, nothing in the world could make them stay.
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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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You only get one chance to fall in love with your heart still whole.
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In cemeteries of memories, our love will lie in caskets.
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We had no ending, no said goodbye. For all my life, I’ll wonder why.
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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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Some pieces will sing to your present, others may echo of your past, and the rest could whisper of your future.
LANG LEAV