I don’t think about myself as much as I used to. I guess that’s a good thing. I only think about the things that are missing from me.
LANG LEAVI don’t think about myself as much as I used to. I guess that’s a good thing. I only think about the things that are missing from me.
More Lang Leav Quotes
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We number our days and divide our seasons. We endlessly define what it is to be in love. When in truth, spring blurs into summer and always has, long before that line was ever drawn.
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Somehow, there is a sense of comfort in knowing nothing will ever hit me quite as hard again. Nothing will ever be as beautiful, but neither will anything hurt as much.
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The greatest injustice I have suffered has come under the pretense of love.
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Don’t you get it?” he said. “The ones who are afraid of heights don’t trust themselves enough to jump.
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I wanted everything because I didn’t want anything enough.
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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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I hope someday you will find me and remember what I once meant to you.
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To never do the things I’ve done that once had led to my undoing.
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And the weather was so damn sick of being predictable; I heard it began snowing in the Sahara and I wanted to tell you that I’ve changed.
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In a sea of strangers, you’ve longed to know me. Your life spent sailing to my shores.
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The greatest heartache comes from loving another soul, they said, beyond reason, beyond doubt, with no hope of salvation.
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And if you’ve forgotten, let me remind you. How love never really ends. How your heart breaks the same way it beats, again and again, and again.
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Doesn’t your soul remain the age you were when you first fell in love?
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I used to think people were like lighthouses. That they were there to protect you. But they’re no. People are lime whirlpools. They pull you in; they drag you under. You have to work so hard just to keep your head above water.
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Be patient. Your voice will find its way into the world, not in one loud instance but a steady trickle that turns into a deluge.
LANG LEAV






