It was the year you learned that shooting stars were either a blessing or a curse, depending on what you wanted to believe.
LANG LEAVHe 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.
More Lang Leav Quotes
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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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He swept in like a tsunami, wave after wave, and I didn’t stand a chance. All those warnings, all the things they tried to prepare me for-lost in an instant-to the enormity of what I felt.
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Isn’t it strange how much of our lives are interchangeable, how little is truly ours.
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When two souls fall in love, there is nothing else but the yearning to be close to the other. The presence that is felt through a hand held, a voice heard, or a smile seen.
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When you don’t have the whole attention of someone, you find yourself begging for it from everyone.
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Yes, I think it is entirely possible to fall in love with someone you’ve never met. Physicality is an expression of intimacy- not an indication of it.
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We may be just two different clocks, that do not tock in unison.
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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.
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I want you to remember my lips beneath your fingers and how you told me things you never told another soul. I want you to know that I have kept sacred, everything you had entrusted in me and I always will.
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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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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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But when I look at you, I just know instinctively, that despite the odds against you and although life will always find a way to test you, someday you’ll have everything you want. Your ending will be a happy one.
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Now that you have it all, do you ever wish you could go back to when you had it simple?
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Sometimes I am caught between poetry and prose, like two lovers I can’t decide between. Prose says to me, let’s build something long and lasting. Poetry takes me by the hand, and whispers, come with me, let’s get lost for awhile.
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She was the book that was not written. The sentence that was not scripted. She was the word you wished you could have said.
LANG LEAV