The role of the poet is almost nothing...drearily nothing. And when he steps outside of his boots and tries to get tough… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
And there I was, 225 pounds, perpetually lost and confused, short legs, ape-like upper body, all chest, no neck, head too large,… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
Thanksgiving. It proved you had survived another year with its wars, inflation, unemployment, smog, presidents. It was a grand neurotic gathering of… — 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
![“The role of the poet is almost nothing...drearily nothing. And when he steps outside of his boots and tries to get tough as our dear Ezra [Pound] did, he will get his pink little ass slapped.” quote by Charles Bukowski](https://sms4smile.com/quotes/img-quotes/603/charles-bukowski-73_ass_the-role-of-the-poet-is-almost-nothing-d_484597.jpg)
