There is a savagery to what you feel. It eats you up inside. But you will get through it; you don’t need his mouth to placate you. You don’t need his hands to untangle the butterfly knot in your heart. Your love is a fire that will burn itself out. Let it ravage you.
LANG LEAVHow do I thank my mother for giving me the life she desperately wanted to give herself.
More Lang Leav Quotes
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Most people want to save the entire world. It’s a lovely thought, and I’m not saying it’s not a noble pursuit-but it’s impossible to save everyone. You just have to pick your little corner of the world and focus your energy there. That’s the only way you will ever make a difference.
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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.
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It was like being seen after a perpetual darkness, I replied. To be heard after a lifetime of silence.
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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.
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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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And I told him, if I am so hard to love, then let me run wild.
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I do know there are all kinds of barriers to love. I do believe the world needs less of them.
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Every day I measure the weight of my past against the present and feel the drag of what could have been.
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The greatest injustice I have suffered has come under the pretense of 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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I was there in your forgetting, until I was forgot.
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Why do you write? he asked. So I can take my love for you and give it to the world, I reply. Because you won’t take it from me.
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Some days it felt like a burden, to smile for you. To keep the lines of worry from etching into your forehead.
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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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Like time suspended, a wound unmended – you and I. We had no ending, no said goodbye; For all my life, I’ll wonder why.
LANG LEAV