“In the morning it was morning and I was still alive. Maybe I'll write a novel, I thought. And then I did.” — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
Sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think, I'm not going to make it, but you laugh inside… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“The morning interviews were always the hardest, hung-over, trying to get the beer down. No, I have no idea why I am… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
morning night and noon the traffic moves through and the murder and treachery of friends and lovers and all the people move… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
... to die on a kitchen floor at 7 o'clock in the morning while other people are frying eggs is not so… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
I don't know about other people, but when I wake up in the morning and put my shoes on, I think, Jesus… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
It was like a church in there as only the truly lost sit in bars on Tuesday mornings at 8:00 a.m. — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
I will remember the kisses our lips raw with love and how you gave me everything you had and how I offered… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
I remember awakening one morning and finding everything smeared with the color of forgotten love. — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
The courage it took to get out of bed each morning to face the same things over and over was enormous. — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
soon I'll finish this 5th of Puerto Rican rum. in the morning I'll vomit and shower, drive back in, have a sandwich… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
little sun little moon little dog and a little to eat and a little to love and a little to live for… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
Well, people got attatched. Once you cut the umbilical cord they attatched to the other things. Sight, sound, sex, money, mirages, mothers,… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
Love is kind of like when you see a fog in the morning, when you wake up before the sun comes out.… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“sometimes when everything seems at its worst when all conspires and gnaws and the hours, days, weeks years seem wasted – stretched there upon… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
well, death says, as he walks by, I'm going to get you anyhow no matter what you've been: writer, cab-driver, pimp, butcher, sky-diver, I'm… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“There is only one place to write and that is alone at a typewriter. A writer who has to go into the streets is… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
Even the stove and the refrigerator looked human, I mean good human - they seemed to have arms and voices and they said, hang… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“nerves twitching in the sheets -- to face the sunlight again, that's clearly trouble. I like the city better when the neon lights are… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“Their Love Is Average, Seeks Average But There Is Genius In Their Hatred” — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“I climbed the stairway (there was no elevator) and put the key in. The door swung open. Somebody had changed all the furniture around,… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“Strangers when you meet, strangers when you part -a gymnasium of bodies namelessly masturbating each other. People with no morals often considered themselves more… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
I like to change liquor stores frequently because the clerks got to know your habits if you went in night and day and bought… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“I was like a turd that drew flies instead of like a flower that butterflies and bees desired. I wanted to live alone,I felt… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
