The second I tried to tell myself I wasn’t in love was the moment I realized I was.
LANG LEAVSome days I feel like my soul is being pulled in one direction and my heart in another.
More Lang Leav Quotes
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It was beautifully worded and painfully read; the things that were written, were those never said.
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It was the year you learned that shooting stars were either a blessing or a curse, depending on what you wanted to believe.
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You only get one chance to fall in love with your heart still whole.
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She would fondly call him her Frankenstein, this man who was a patchwork of all the things she had ever longed for.
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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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The briefest moment shared with you-the longest on my mind.
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I used to think I couldn’t go a day without your smile. Without telling you things and hearing your voice back.
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I don’t know how you are so familiar to me-or why it feels less like I am getting to know you and more as though I am remembering who you are. How every smile, every whisper brings me closer to the impossible conclusion that I have known you before, I have loved you before-in another time, a different place, some other existence.
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The things that seem to matter less, are the ones we put on show.
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Some days I feel like my soul is being pulled in one direction and my heart in another.
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Understand that we must lose our way, over and over, before we can find the best version of ourselves.
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There are many things in life you can postpone, but love isn’t one of them.
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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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If you love me for what you see, only your eyes would be in love with me.
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There is a certain quality to words that when strung in a certain way-has an almost hypnotic effect.
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Isn’t it strange how much of our lives are interchangeable, how little is truly ours.
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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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When was the last time you felt like someone knew you and not the person you’ve been pretending to be. When was the last time you felt like yourself.
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How many people have we known all our lives and never once loved. How many people have we loved and never known.
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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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I think the mysterious pull that draws you to another person is identical to the one that moves our eyes upward to the stars.
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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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Doesn’t your soul remain the age you were when you first fell in love?
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What I feel for you is at once the expression of language and the absence of it.
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In cemeteries of memories, our love will lie in caskets.
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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.
LANG LEAV