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A heavy burden lifted from my soul, I heard that love was out of my control.

Leonard Cohen

I don’t consider myself a pessimist. I think of a pessimist as someone who is waiting for it to rain. And I feel soaked to the skin.
LEONARD COHEN

Feeling Myself Rain Skin Wait
We are not mad. We are human. We want to love, and someone must forgive us for the paths we take to love, for the paths are many and dark, and we are ardent and cruel in our journey.
LEONARD COHEN

Darkness Forgiveness Human Journey Love Mad Ourselves Path
I’ve forgotten most of what I’ve read and, frankly, it never seemed very important to me or to the world.
LEONARD COHEN

Forget Important Myself Reading World
Only one thing made him happy and now that it was gone everything made him happy.
LEONARD COHEN

Happiness Himself Philosophy
Ah, grief makes us precise!
LEONARD COHEN

Grief One Liner
Don’t call yourself a secret unless you mean to keep it.
LEONARD COHEN

Deep Mystery Secret Yourself
I dreamed about you baby. It was just the other night. Most of you were naked Ah, but some of you was light.
LEONARD COHEN

Dream Light Myself Naked Night Yourself
There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.
LEONARD COHEN

Light Philosophy
Children show scars like medals. Lovers use them as a secret to reveal. A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh.
LEONARD COHEN

Children Love Reveal Scars Secret Word
A heavy burden lifted from my soul, I heard that love was out of my control.
LEONARD COHEN

Control Love Myself
Reality is one of the possibilities I cannot afford to ignore.
LEONARD COHEN

Ignorance Myself Possible Reality
Your faith was strong, but you needed proof.
LEONARD COHEN

Evidence Faith Need Strong Yourself
I ache in the places where I used to play.
LEONARD COHEN

Hurt Myself Place Play
Stunned and still not suffering. Swollen with care and anxiety and still not suffering. Useless, old, and full of grief, but still not suffering.
LEONARD COHEN

Care Grief Suffering
We are ugly but we have the music.
LEONARD COHEN

Music Ugly
The last refuge of the insomniac is a sense of superiority to the sleeping world.
LEONARD COHEN

Philosophy World

A heavy burden lifted from my soul, I heard that love was out of my control.

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A heavy burden lifted from my soul, I heard that love was out of my control.

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