Charles Bukowski quotes
We don't even ask happiness, just a little less pain.
I guess the only time most people think about injustice is when it happens to them.
If something bad happens you drink in an attempt to forget; if something good happens you drink in order to celebrate; and if nothing happens you drink to make something happen.
there is always one woman to save you from another and as that woman saves you she makes ready to destroy
being alone never felt right. sometimes it felt good, but it never felt right.
People are strange: They are constantly angered by trivial things, but on a major matter like totally wasting their lives, they hardly seem to notice.
I loved you like a man loves a woman he never touches, only writes to, keeps little photographs of.
"Do you hate people?” “I don't hate them...I just feel better when they're not around."
Charles Bukowski Life quotes ⇑
It wasn't my day. My week. My month. My year. My life. God damn it.
Without literature, life is hell.
I wish to weep but sorrow is stupid. I wish to believe but belief is a graveyard.
I wasn't lonely. I experienced no self-pity. I was just caught up in a life in which I could ﬁnd no meaning.
All Charles Bukowski quotes ⇑
If you have the ability to love, love yourself first.
Now something so sad has hold of us that the breath leaves and we can't even cry.
the courage it took to get out of bed each morning to face the same things over and over was enormous.
the tired sunsets and the tired people - it takes a lifetime to die and no time at all.
I never met another man I'd rather be. And even if that's a delusion, it's a lucky one.
We are like roses that have never bothered to bloom when we should have bloomed and it is as if the sun has become disgusted with waiting
I didn't have any friends at school, didn't want any. I felt better being alone. I sat on a bench and watched the others play and they looked foolish to me.
It was like the beginning of life and laughter. It was the real meaning of the sun
I wasn't a misanthrope and I wasn't a misogynist but I liked being alone. It felt good to sit alone in a small space and smoke and drink. I had always been good company for myself.
I had noticed that both in the very poor and very rich extremes of society the mad were often allowed to mingle freely.
I carry death in my left pocket. Sometimes I take it out and talk to it: "Hello, baby, how are you doing? When are you coming for me? I'll be ready."
If I never see you again I will always carry you inside, outside on my fingertips and at brain edges and in centers, centers of what I am of what remains.
"He asked, "What makes a man a writer?" "Well," I said, "it's simple. You either get it down on paper, or jump off a bridge."
Understand me. I'm not like an ordinary world. I have my madness, I live in another dimension and I do not have time for things that have no soul.