Lang Leav

Because sooner or later, all kinds of love - crazy love, wild love- fade into the same thing. The love becomes old and predictable -safe.

Audrey, if you had the choice, would you rather be his muse or be in his arms?" "I want to be both. I know it's the exception rather than the rule, but I can't hepl what I want.

RegretsTiming is irrelevant when two people are meant for each other. It's what I once believed.But we met during a time when I was such a mess, when I still had so much to figure out. How could I have known how crucial every word, every action was or how losing you would be something I would always regret?If only you could have met me now, how different it would be. How much I have changed. How I have grown. I learned so much from all the mistakes I made with you. I just wish I had made them with someone else.

It happens like this. "One day you meet someone and for some inexplicable reason, you feel more connected to this stranger than anyone else--closer to them than your closest family. Perhaps this person carries within them an angel--one sent to you for some higher purpose; to teach you an important lesson or to keep you safe during a perilous time. What you must do is trust in them--even if they come hand in hand with pain or suffering--the reason for their presence will become clear in due time."Though here is a word of warning--you may grow to love this person but remember they are not yours to keep. Their purpose isn't to save you but to show you how to save yourself. And once this is fulfilled; the halo lifts and the angel leaves their body as the person exits your life. They will be a stranger to you once more.-------------------------------------------------It's so dark right now, I can't see any light around me. That's because the light is coming from you. You can't see it but everyone else can.

When every dream has turned to dust, and your highest hopes no longer soar.When places you once yearned to see, grow further away on distant shores.When every night you close your eyes, and long inside for something more.Remember this and only this, if nothing else you can recall__here was a life a girl once led, where you were loved the most of all.

In a sea of strangers,you've longed to know me.Your life spent sailingto my shores.

Stardust__f you came to me with a face I have not seen, with a voice I have never heard, I would still know you. Even if centuries separated us, I would still feel you. Somewhere between the sand and the stardust, through every collapse and creation, there is a pulse that echoes of you and I.__hen we leave this world, we give up all our possessions and our memories. Love is the only thing we take with us. It is all we carry from one life to the next.

Xs and OsLove is a gameof tic-tac-toe,constantly waiting,for the next x or o.

She lends her pen,to thoughts of him,that flow from it,in her solitary.For she is his poet,And he is her poetry.

I don't think all writers are sad, she said.I think it's the other way around__ll sad people write.

Writing is a conduit. It opens up a passageway into the past. Not just for the writer, but for the reader too. Both readers and writer are linked by the commonality of human experience.

You can create something that is pure genius, but you have to get your timing right.

Every letterthat she types;every keystrokethat she strikes-To spell your nameagain and again,is all she everwants to write.

Neither here, nor there. But everywhere.

If any person claims to have loved twice in all their life _ they have not loved at all.

AGE DIFFERENCEWhat if I told you that one day you will meet a girl who is unlike anyone else you've known. She will know all the right things to say, what makes you laugh, what turns you on, what drives you wild and best of all, you will do for her exactly what she does for you."When will I meet her?"Well let's put it this way, she doesn't even exist yet.

AcceptanceThere are things I missthat I shouldn't,and those I don'tthat I should.Sometimes we wantwhat we couldn't__ometimes we lovewho we could.

Saving YouThe darkness takes him over, the sickness pulls him in; his eyes__ blown out candle, I wish to go with him.Sometimes I see a flicker_ a light that shone from them; I hold him to me tightly, before he's gone again.