“So, that’s what they wanted: lies. Beautiful lies. That’s what they needed. People were fools.” — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“Style is important. Many people scream the truth but without style it is helpless.” — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“When someone else’s truth is the same as your truth, and he seems to be saying it just for you, that’s great.” — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“and soon we realized that we were all lying, not exactly lying but mostly” — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“there seems to be no way out, I thought, everybody is always angry about the truth even though they claim to believe… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
Turgenev was a very serious fellow but he could make me laugh because a truth first encountered can be very funny. When… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“Now we are citizens of nothing. the sun itself knows the sad truth of how we surrendered our lives and deaths to… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
So, that’s what they wanted: lies. Beautiful lies. That’s what they needed. People were fools. It was going to be easy for… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
Anybody can be a non-drunk. It takes a special talent to be a drunk. It takes endurance. Endurance is more important than… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
the way to create art is to burn and destroy ordinary concepts and to substitute them with new truths that run down… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“Endurance is more important than truth because without endurance there can't be any truth. And truth means going to the end like… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
Truth changes as men change, and when truth becomes stable men will become dead, and the insect and the fire and the… — charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“The truth, however, was that there was very little greatness. It was almost nonexistent, invisible. But you could be sure that the… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“It began when they come took me from my home And put me in Dead Row, Of which I am nearly wholly… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“Beasts bounding through time. Van Gogh writing his brother for paints Hemingway testing his shotgun Celine going broke as a doctor of… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
“I think good poetry should startle, shatter and, yes, entertain while getting as close to the truth as possible. I can get… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
Simplicity is always the secret, to a profound truth, to doing things, to writing, to painting. Life is profound in its simplicity — 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
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
“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
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
“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
“Their Love Is Average, Seeks Average But There Is Genius In Their Hatred” — Charles Bukowski Copy Share
“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
“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
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
“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
I went home each night dizzy and sick. He was murdering me with the sound of his voice. — Charles Bukowski Copy Share
“the nights you fight best are when all the weapons are pointed at you, when all the voices hurl their insults while the dream… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share
