If you're going to try, go all the way. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives, jobs and maybe your mind. — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
Censorship is the tool of those who have the need to hide actualities from themselves and from others. Their fear is only… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
The Laughing Heart your life is your life don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission. be on the watch. there are… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
But my whole life has been a matter of fighting for one simple hour to do what I want to do. There… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
My objection to war was not that I had to kill somebody or be killed senselessly, that hardly mattered. What I objected… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
There would never be a way for me to live comfortably with people. Maybe I'd become a monk. I'd pretend to believe… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
Oh, I don’t mean you’re handsome, not the way people think of handsome. Your face seems kind. But your eyes - they’re… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
We do not abandon ship. I say, as corny as it may sound, through the strength and spirit and fire and dare… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
That moment - to this ... may be years in the way they measure, but it's only one sentence back in my… — 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
But then if you lied to a man about his talent just because he was sitting across from you, that was the… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
Style is the answer to everything. A fresh way to approach a dull or dangerous thing. To do a dull thing with… — 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
How are his poems?" "He's not as good as he thinks he is, but then most of us feel that way. — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
Look, let me put it this way: with me, you’re number one and there isn’t even a number two. — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
People were usually much better in their letters than in reality. They were much like poets in this way. — 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
“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
