K.d. Lang Quotes

There is safety in numbness– there is solace in sleep.

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

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

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.

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

First love, " said Ida with a sigh. "That's the one that kills you.

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.

TimeYou were the oneI wanted mostto stay.But time could notbe kept at bay.The more it goes, the more it's gone—the more it takes away.

Without a doubt, I must read, all the booksI've read about.See the artworkshung on hooks, that I have only, seen in books.

That night, we talked the way old friends do, with candor and ease.

Young men, especially in America, write to me and ask me to recommend “a course of reading.” Distrust a course of reading! People who really care for books read all of them. There is no other course.

I can't believe how hard it is. The pain is indescribable. It's like I've been turned into sandstone and my insides are being slowly hollowed out by a chisel and mallet.

To a common man, the opulence of the day makes no sense but to a philosopher, it is as clear as a night in the southern France.

There's a story behind every Bookworm"!

Even through the darkest phaseBe it thick or thinAlways someone marches braveHere beneath my skin

In literature, as in love, one can only speak for himself.

One day you will be nostalgic for today.

...you cannot control the depth of a wound another inflicts upon you.

Some pieces will sing to your present, others may echo of your past, and the rest could whisper of your future.

There is a certain quality to words that when strung in a certain way--has an almost hypnotic effect.

I did not know that it was love until I knew.

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

He deftly dealt his swiftest blow--I fell further than, I was meant to go.

Because someday, in one way or another, you will be taken from me or I you.

The glass bottle does not know its own contents. It has no idea whether it is a vessel for the most delicious apple cider, a lovingly crafted wine, or a bitter poison.

...but how could I have stopped him from taking what was already his?

Share a book and you'll make a friend!

Your first love isn't the first person you give your heart to- it's the first one who beaks it.

When did you stop caring? he asked.When did you start noticing? she replied.

Had I known, I would not have left you, alone beneath those stars, on the night when I last saw you, not knowing it was the last.

Her heart is played like well worn stringsIn her eyes the sadness singsOf one who was destined of better things

The sky is but a looking glass into a pool of airless oceans, cast off into a dance of light and energy, leaving only a facet of guidance to navigate. Such an existence lays but within the mind man.

As I read the Qur’an and prayed the Islamic prayers, a door to my heart was unsealed and I was immersed in an overwhelming tenderness.

The scatterbrain, is a little like, the patter of rain.Neither here, nor there, but everywhere.

A SWOT analysis involves asking, "What are our strengths and weaknesses? What are our opportunities? What are the threats?

Do you love me?" I ask.In your hesitation I found my answer.

We all love animals. Why do we call some "pets" and others "dinner?

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.

Nobody knows the truffles I've seen.

Our emotions pull us in different directions. The stronger the emotion, the greater the pull. Feelings are not always practical, nor do they make any logical sense. That's just the way it goes.

What was it like to lose him?" Asked Sorrow. There was a long pause before I responded:It was like hearing every goodbye ever said tome—said all at once.

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

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

It is so delightful to teach those one loves!

Neither here, nor there. But everywhere.

Books can break a man open, even ones about a panda, maybe especially so.

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

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.

I fear nothing when I am doing right, ' said Jack.'Then, ' said the lady in the red cap, 'you are one of those who slay giants.