I no longer want it all, just some comfort and some sex and some minor love. — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“It's all overrated, man. Sex is only a great thing if you're not getting any.” — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“What is your advice to young writers?” “Drink, fuck and smoke plenty of cigarettes.” — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“She would have been a better fuck in Greece, maybe. America was a shitty place to fuck.” — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“Walking out with the people, I didn't know which was more exciting, the air race, the parachute jump that failed, or the… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“Music is much like fucking, but some composers can't climax and others climax too often, leaving themselves and the listener jaded and… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“they would say 'he said this, he did that', but they would never say 'she said this, she did that'. So I… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“I have, he went on, betrayed myself with belief, deluded myself with love tricked myself with sex. the bottle is damned faithful,… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“I guess lesbianism wasn't so rampant in those days, they would've gotten a bunk with each other and just left me alone,… — 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
Sex is interesting, but it's not totally important. I mean it's not even as important (physically) as excretion. A man can go… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“Generally, I decided, it was better to wait, if you had any feeling for the individual. If you hated her right off,… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“when we were kids laying around the lawn on our bellies we often talked about how we'd like to die and we… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“Nothing like beautiful legs. 'Cause with beautiful legs, even if you've been there only once or twice, there might be something up… — 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… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“fuck she pulled her dress off over her head and I saw the panties indented somewhat into the crotch. it's only human.… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“The time came to put Iris Duarte back on the plane. It was a morning flight which made it difficult. I was… — 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
