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.
LANG LEAVHere’s the story of my life. Hoping they would care about me or wishing they wouldn’t care so much.
More Lang Leav Quotes
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My heart is like a time capsule-it keeps safe the memory of you. I know it’s harder with you gone than if you had never been here at all-but I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
LANG LEAV -
You’re young and there’s still so much ahead. So much uncertainty and doubt. It keeps you up at night-this wild, restless feeling. But you don’t know how free you are. For this short, miraculous time, you have no one to answer to, nothing to lose. You belong wholly to yourself.
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You can’t borrow from the future, to make up for the past.
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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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There are many things in life you can postpone, but love isn’t one of them.
LANG LEAV -
To never do the things I’ve done that once had led to my undoing.
LANG LEAV -
I think that bothers me more than anything. That he could look in my eyes and tell me something that is completely contrary to the truth.
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Before the tears that tore us, when our history was before us.
LANG LEAV -
you cannot control the depth of a wound another inflicts upon you.
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Understand that we must lose our way, over and over, before we can find the best version of ourselves.
LANG LEAV -
You’re still crying about him aren’t you? Silly girl. What good will it do you to spill those sky blu tears? You meant either everything to him or absolutely nothing at all.
LANG LEAV -
Fear isn’t a reason when it comes to love–it’s an excuse. Anyone who has ever been in love will tell you that.
LANG LEAV -
Don’t let them tell you that your pain should be confined to the past, that it bears no relevance to the present.
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My father was a house,my mother was a home.
LANG LEAV -
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.
LANG LEAV