Leonard Cohen, fully Leonard Norman Cohen

Cohen, fully Leonard Norman Cohen

Canadian Singer, Songwriter, Poet and Novelist, Ordained as a Buddhist Monk

Author Quotes

Her hand was resting on his arm like snow on a leaf, ready to slip away when he moved.

I always loved those little creatures [hummingbird], always feel blessed when they appear nearby. There's a magical quality to them. I finally put one in a song.

I did not suspect the insignificance of my dream. I thought I had conceived the vaster dream of my generation: be a magician. That was my idea of glory. Here is a plea based on my experience: do not be a magician, be magical.

I felt like if any two people had any kind of sexual affinity for each other they had to sleep with each other immediately, otherwise it was a terrible betrayal and waste...Fortunately, I'm relieved of those obsessions now. It's really wonderful. It's really wonderful not feeling you have to sleep with everybody.

I hope we [with Patrick Leonard] can come up with something orchestral with some spoken material. And I also, God willing, hope that perhaps another record of songs also might emerge, but one never knows.

I showed my heart to the doctor. He said I just had to quit

I want history to jump on Canada's spine with sharp skates.

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

I'm not looking for another as I wander in my time.

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

It's like a bear stumbling into a beehive or a honey cache: I'm stumbling right into it and getting stuck, and it's delicious and it's horrible and I'm in it and it's not very graceful and it's very awkward and it's very painful and yet there's something inevitable about it.

Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove. Dance me to the end of love.

Miss McTavish was a graduate of Bryn Mawr '21, tall and masculine, and was secretly convinced of being the only one in America to really understand the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins. He was also convinced that the academic world was not worthy of the true Hopkins and was therefore reluctant to talk about their theories. The same sense of superiority kept her away from the university. Did not wish to take part in the academic conspiracy against Life and Art. The same sense of superiority, combined with a grotesque nose, he kept away from the marriage. He knew that the sufficiently passionate man, rebellious and playful for an intimate spiritual relationship with her was not available for domestic life, having probably already consecrated to the monastery or mountaineering.

Never make a decision when you need to pee.

Pay attention to the cracks, because that's where the light gets in.

Seven to eleven is a huge chunk of life, full of dulling and forgetting. It is fabled that we slowly lose the gift of speech with animals, that birds no longer visit our windowsills to converse. As our eyes grow accustomed to sight they armor themselves against wonder.

Stunned and still not suffering. Swollen with care and anxiety and still not suffering. Useless, old and full of grief, but still not suffering.

The fact that my songs take a long time to write is no guarantee of their excellence.

A kite is a victim you are sure of. You love it because it pulls gentle enough to call you master, strong enough to call you fool; because it lives like a desperate trained falcon in the high sweet air, and you can always haul it down to tame it in your drawer. A kite is a fish you have already caught in a pool where no fish come, so you play him carefully and long, and hope he won't give up, or the wind die down. A kite is the last poem you've written so you give it to the wind, but you don't let it go until someone finds you something else to do. A kite is a contract of glory that must be made with the sun, so you make friends with the field the river and the wind, then you pray the whole cold night before, under the travelling cordless moon, to make you worthy and lyric and pure.

All busy in the sunlight the flecks did float and dance, and I was tumbled up with them in formless circumstance.

And this is our time-keeper, with a passion for percussion.

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

Do not believe the truth. The truth is tiny compared to what you have to do.

Everybody knows that you love me baby, everybody knows that you really do. Everybody knows that you've been faithful, ah give or take a night or two. Everybody knows you've been discreet but there were so many people you just had to meet without your clothes and everybody knows.

Garages, barns and attics are always older than the buildings to which they are attached.

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Cohen, fully Leonard Norman Cohen
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Canadian Singer, Songwriter, Poet and Novelist, Ordained as a Buddhist Monk