I build my walls from the mess they leave.
LANG LEAVThere is a certain quality to words that when strung in a certain way-has an almost hypnotic effect.
More Lang Leav Quotes
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Strange how it mattered so much, when now it matters so little.
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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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The ache will always be there, but the intensity will fade, and you’ll find other beautiful things to fill your days with.
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You must emerge from adversity, scathed but victorious to tell your story and, in turn, light the way for others.
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She can feel it down to her very core-this is her time. She will not only climb mountains-she will move them too.
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There is one who you belong to, whose love- there is no song for.
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He and I When words run dry, he does not try, nor do I. We are on par. He just is, I just am, and we just are.
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The only ones they can turn against you are those who were never with you.
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I don’t want to be in a relationship where I feel the constant need to explain myself. I don’t want to live in a world like that either.
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It’s so dark right now, I can’t see any light around me. That’s because the light is coming from you. You can’t see it but everyone else can.
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That night, we talked the way old friends do, with candor and ease.
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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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The briefest moment shared with you-the longest on my mind.
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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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Sometimes the loneliest place to be is in love.
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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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Here and now I love you, for the moment you have my heart. But you are entitled to my future, you have no ownership of my past.
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Of all you’ve used against me, the worst has been my words.
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He gave her such gifts – not the kind that were put in boxes, but the sort that filled her with imagination, breathing indescribable happiness into her life.
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I will celebrate this life of mine, with or without you. The moon does not need the sun to tell her she is already whole.
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You know, missing someone can sometimes be the best thing for a writer.
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Give me something I can write about.
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I missed you today. Between waking and sleeping, I thought of you.
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I’m a stranger in my own life.
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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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The greatest injustice I have suffered has come under the pretense of love.
LANG LEAV