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

— Lang Leav

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

— Lang Leav

I have always thought of memories as fragments, like colored glass shards in a kaleidoscope. It is the source of great beauty in our lives, yet the cause of such heartache. It remains the bridge between our past and present - it gives weight and dimension to our very existence.

— Lang Leav

I loved you once, and now I must spend my whole life explaining why.

— Lang Leav

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

— Lang Leav

I saw love in your smile and I recognized it for the first time in my life. But you had a plane to catch, and I was already home.

— Lang Leav

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.

— Lang Leav

It’s amazing what people create using their pain. Work that is touched by melancholy has its own unique beauty. Even the word ‘melancholy’ is pretty, the way it rolls on your tongue. I think sadness adds something to literature that is unique. It’s an ingredient like. . .” I thought for a moment. “Like salt. Salt has that power to completely transform a dish. I think sadness has that same transformative effect in literature.

— Lang Leav

It was from a very young age that I fell in love with this wonderful artifact--the turn of the first page is almost like a sacred ritual to me. Whenever I walk into a library, it is never without some degree of reverence.

— Lang Leav

It was like being seen after a perpetual darkness, I replied. To be heard after a lifetime of silence.

— Lang Leav