black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

Ordinary eternal machinery, like the grinding of the stars.

Leonard Cohen

You live your life as if it’s real, a thousand kisses deep.
LEONARD COHEN

Kiss Life Live Reality Yourself
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
When you’re not feeling holy, your loneliness says that you’ve sinned.
LEONARD COHEN

Lonely Sin Yourself
Ordinary eternal machinery, like the grinding of the stars.
LEONARD COHEN

Forever Stars
We are ugly but we have the music.
LEONARD COHEN

Music Ugly
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
First of all, nothing will happen and a little later nothing will happen again.
LEONARD COHEN

Philosophy
We’ve got to learn to love appearances.
LEONARD COHEN

Appearance Learning Love
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
Don’t call yourself a secret unless you mean to keep it.
LEONARD COHEN

Deep Mystery Secret Yourself
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
A heavy burden lifted from my soul, I heard that love was out of my control.
LEONARD COHEN

Control Love Myself
I told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you.
LEONARD COHEN

Light Myself Truth
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
A kite is a victim you are sure of. You love it because it pulls.
LEONARD COHEN

Love Victim Yourself
Love is the only engine of survival.
LEONARD COHEN

Love Survive

Ordinary eternal machinery, like the grinding of the stars.

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Ordinary eternal machinery, like the grinding of the stars.

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