black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

Ah, grief makes us precise!

Leonard Cohen

Blessed are you who circled desire with a blade, and the garden with fiery swords, and heaven and earth with a word.
LEONARD COHEN

Blessing Desire Heaven Nature Word
Only one thing made him happy and now that it was gone everything made him happy.
LEONARD COHEN

Happiness Himself Philosophy
Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash.
LEONARD COHEN

Evidence Life Poet Poetry
Here’s to the few who forgive what you do, and the fewer who don’t even care.
LEONARD COHEN

Care Forgiveness
And everything depends upon how near you sleep to me.
LEONARD COHEN

Myself Relationship Sex Yourself
I’m old and the mirrors don’t lie.
LEONARD COHEN

Lie Myself One Liner
Blessed is the covenant of love, the covenant of mercy, useless light behind the terror, deathless song in the house of night.
LEONARD COHEN

Blessing Death Light Love Night
First of all, nothing will happen and a little later nothing will happen again.
LEONARD COHEN

Philosophy
Remember when I moved in you And the holy dove was moving too, and every breath we drew was Hallelujah.
LEONARD COHEN

Breathe Myself Remember Yourself
Garages, barns, and attics are always older than the buildings to which they are attached.
LEONARD COHEN

Attachment Old Philosophy
Reality is one of the possibilities I cannot afford to ignore.
LEONARD COHEN

Ignorance Myself Possible Reality
It’s hard to hold the hand of anyone who is reaching for the sky just to surrender.
LEONARD COHEN

Hands Hard Sky
As our eyes grow accustomed to sight they armor themselves against wonder.
LEONARD COHEN

Eyes Ourselves Wonderful
The last refuge of the insomniac is a sense of superiority to the sleeping world.
LEONARD COHEN

Philosophy World
If you don’t become the ocean, you’ll be seasick every day.
LEONARD COHEN

Deep Ocean Yourself
Believe nothing of me except that I felt your beauty more closely than my own.
LEONARD COHEN

Beautiful Believe Expectation Feeling Love Myself

Ah, grief makes us precise!

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Ah, grief makes us precise!

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