It was a kind love, a selfless love. I was a dreamer, and you were a traveler. We met at the crossroads. I saw love in your smile, and I recognized it for the first time in my life. But you had a plane to catch, and I was already home.
LANG LEAVOur emotions pull us in different directions. The stronger the emotion, the greater the pull. Feelings are not always practical, nor do they make any logical sense. That’s just the way it goes.
More Lang Leav Quotes
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You were none, and now you’re all; your worth will rise, the more I fall.
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you cannot control the depth of a wound another inflicts upon you.
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Remember, your words are your power. Never forget your words.
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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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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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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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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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I did not know that it was love until I knew.
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Do you remember the song that was playing the night we met? No, but I remember every song I have heard since you left.
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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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Don’t stay where you are needed. Go where you are loved.
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That’s the thing about writers – on one hand everything is sacred to them, but, on the other, nothing really is.
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Loving you is like being ten years old again, scaling a tree with my eyes bright and skyward, wanting only to get higher and higher, without a thought of how I would get back down.
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We all have moments of darkness, moments when we are so unlike ourselves. And like vultures they wait for a slip, a misstep, then they take that part of us and try to convince the world that is all we are.
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I wish I could put a pen in your hand and gently remind you how the world has given you poetry and now you must give it back.
LANG LEAV