I don’t think all writers are sad, she said. I think it’s the other way around- all sad people write.
LANG LEAVI was coming to the end of a difficult period in my life, though when the end isn’t in plain sight, you don’t realize how close you are.
More Lang Leav Quotes
-
-
That’s the thing about writers – on one hand everything is sacred to them, but, on the other, nothing really is.
LANG LEAV -
I have given so much to things that weren’t worth my time. When all along, it’s the people I love that I should have carried.
LANG LEAV -
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.
LANG LEAV -
But if you don’t love my every flaw, then you mustn’t love me- not at all.
LANG LEAV -
Yes, we took it all for granted-but isn’t that such a blessed thing? When you’re not even thinking about what you have, because you never imagine you someday won’t.
LANG LEAV -
Because someday, in one way or another, you will be taken from me or I you.
LANG LEAV -
I look for you, the way I was taught to look both ways when crossing the road. Uptight and wary, bracing myself for something I know could break me.
LANG LEAV -
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.
LANG LEAV -
If you have to be with someone at all, then be with someone who makes you feel like you are still in control.
LANG LEAV -
The words I heard from you today, are said when there’s nothing left to say. What I would give to make you stay, I would give it all away.
LANG LEAV -
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.
LANG LEAV -
The less you speak, the more weight your words will carry when you do.
LANG LEAV -
Give me something I can write about.
LANG LEAV -
Our love story comes to me in waves, in movie stills and long summer afternoons spent under a sky of incessant blue. I still think of your eyes in flashes of color, your hands in a frenetic, feverish blur-your smile a mosaic of light and shadow. I still find myself lost in those moments of abstraction.
LANG LEAV -
We may be just two different clocks, that do not tock in unison.
LANG LEAV