A Quote by Jeff Buckley

love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah. — © Jeff Buckley
love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.
It's not a cry you can hear at night. It's not somebody who has seen the light. It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah.
It's the notion that there is no perfection - that there is a broken world and we live with broken hearts and broken lives but still there is no alibi for anything. On the contrary, you have to stand up and say hallelujah under those circumstances.
Love is not a victory march
The march of conquest through wild provinces, may be the march of Mind; but not the march of Love.
Maybe there's a God above, As for me, all I've ever seemed to learn from love Is how to shoot at someone who outdrew you. Yeah but it's not a complaint that you hear tonight, It's not the laughter of someone who claims to have seen the light No it's a cold and it's a very lonely Hallelujah.
In the Vedic Calender, the year 2013 is said to be the year of Victory. Victory of the Good over Bad.It is said to begin in the end of march.
In true love there is no heart break. A broken heat means broken demands, broken expectations and broken hopes.
My father was often impatient during March, waiting for winter to end, the cold to ease, the sun to reappear. March was an unpredictable month, when it was never clear what might happen. Warm days raised hopes until ice and grey skies shut over the town again.
Broken people give broken love. And we are all a little broken. You just have to forgive and sew up the wounds love delivers, and move on.
Broken bottles, broken plates, broken switches, broken gates. Broken dishes, broken parts, streets are filled with broken hearts.
It was something that we learned more and more about as we got older in different chapters of our lives on how important the victory was, not as a sporting event but as a victory in the Cold War.
Oh heavens, how I long for a little ordinary human enthusiasm. Just enthusiasm - that's all. I want to hear a warm, thrilling voice cry out Hallelujah! Hallelujah! I'm alive!
Here at CBS, spring also means March Madness. I love the name March Madness. I'm glad the PC police haven't made us change March Madness to early spring psychosis.
You say I took the name in vain I don't even know the name But if I did, well really, what's it to you? There's a blaze of light in every word It doesn't matter which you heard The holy or the broken Hallelujah
Let me tell you something: You can live in a broken home, you can play with a broken toy, but you cannot love with a broken heart.
The Long March The Red Army is not afraid of hardship on the march, the long march. Ten thousand waters and a thousand mountains are nothing. The Five Sierras meander like small waves, the summits of Wumeng pour on the plain like balls of clay. Cliffs under clouds are warm and washed below by the River Gold Sand. Iron chains are cold, reaching over the Tatu River. The far snows of Minshan only make us happy and when the army pushes through, we all laugh. October 1935
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