unless it comes out of your soul like a rocket, unless being still would drive you to madness or suicide or murder,… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
We’ve died so many times now that we can only wonder why we still care. — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
I could scream down 90 mountains to less than dust if only one living human had eyes in the head and heart… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
we drove on and on, past little villages and both good things and bad things were happening to the people in those… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
escape from the black widow spider is a miracle as great as art. what a web she can weave slowly drawing you… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
as the shadows assume shapes I fight the slow retreat now my once-promise dwindling dwindling now lighting new cigarettes pouring more drinks… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
When you drank the world was still out there, but for the moment it didn’t have you by the throat. — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
Lighting new cigarettes, pouring more drinks. It has been a beautiful fight. Still is. — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
I can see where creation often stops while the body still lives and often does not care to. the death of life… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
It is possible to be truly mad and to still exist upon scraps of life. — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
Some men hope for revolution but when you revolt and set up your new government you find your new government is still… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
I couldn't get myself to read the want ads. The thought of sitting in front of a man behind a desk and… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
and I laugh, I can still laugh, who can't laugh when the whole thing is so ridiculous that only the insane, the… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
To experience real agony is something hard to write about, impossible to understand while it grips you; you're frightened out of your… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
Sometimes a man doesn’t know what to do about things and sometimes it’s best to lie very still and try not to… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
I like the way Mahler wandered about in his music and still retained his passion. He must have looked like an earthquake… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
my 6 foot goddess makes me laugh the laughter of the mutilated who still need love... she has saved me from everything… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
I didn't like anybody in that school. I think they knew that. I think that's why they disliked me. I didn't like… — 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
