Leonard Cohen

I heard of a manwho says words so beautifullythat if he only speaks their namewomen give themselves to him.If I am dumb beside your bodywhile silence blossoms like tumors on our lipsit is because I hear a man climb stairsand clear his throat outside our door.

so much of the world is plunged in darkness and chaos...So ring the bells that still can ringForget your perfect offeringThere is a crack in everythingThat__ how the light gets in.

Who could have foretoldthe heart grows oldfrom touching others

If I spelled out the Principles of FaithI would be barking on the moon.

Deprivation is the mother of poetry.

first of all nothing will happen and a little laternothing will happen again

Show me slowly what I onlyknow the limits ofDance me to the end of love

Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash.

Sexuality is general, and although only one man may be receiving the favors of a woman, all men in her presence are warm. That's the great generosity of women and the great generosity of the creator who worked it out that way, that there are no unilateral agreements of sexuality.

You should gofrom place to placerecovering the poemsthat have been written for youto which you can affix your signature.Don't discuss these matterswith anyone.Retrieve. Retrieve.When the basket is fullsomeone will appearto whom you can present it.

It is easy to display a wound, the proud scars of combat. It is hard to show a pimple

My animal howlsMy angel's upsetBut I'm not allowedA trace of regret

Blessed is the covenant of love, the covenant of mercy, useless light behind the terror, deathless song in the house of night.

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

Though I love your company, your instructions are wasted her. I will always choose the woman who caries me off, I will always sit with the family of loneliness.

There is a crack in everything.That's how the light gets in.

There is a crack in everything, that__ how the light gets in.

How quickly pettiness returns, and that most ignoble form of real estate, the possessive occupation and tyranny over two square inches of human flesh, the wife's cunt.