Bukowski Quotes

some moments are nice, some arenicer, some are even worthwritingabout.

~ Charles Bukowski

when we were kidslaying around the lawnon ourbellieswe often talkedabouthowwe'd like todieandwe allagreed on thesamething,we'd alllike to diefucking(althoughnone of ushaddone anyfucking)and nowthatwe are hardlykidsany longerwe think moreabouthownot todieandalthoughwe'rereadymost ofuswouldprefer todo italoneunder thesheetsnowthatmost ofushave fuckedour livesaway.

~ Charles Bukowski

having nothing to struggleagainstthey have nothing to strugglefor.

~ Charles Bukowski

Yes Yeswhen God created love he didn't help most when God created dogs He didn't help dogs when God created plants that was average when God created hate we had a standard utility when God created me He created me when God created the monkey He was asleep when He created the giraffe He was drunk when He created narcotics He was high and when He created suicide He was low when He created you lying in bed He knew what He was doing He was drunk and He was high and He created the mountains and the sea and fire at the same time He made some mistakes but when He created you lying in bed He came all over His Blessed Universe.

~ Charles Bukowski

What is your advice to young writers?” “Drink, fuck and smoke plenty of cigarettes.

~ Charles Bukowski

Beasts bounding through time. Van Gogh writing his brother for paintsHemingway testing his shotgunCeline going broke as a doctor of medicinethe impossibility of being humanVillon expelled from Paris for being a thiefFaulkner drunk in the gutters of his townthe impossibility of being humanBurroughs killing his wife with a gunMailer stabbing histhe impossibility of being humanMaupassant going mad in a rowboatDostoevsky lined up against a wall to be shotCrane off the back of a boat into the propellerthe impossibilitySylvia with her head in the oven like a baked potatoHarry Crosby leaping into that Black SunLorca murdered in the road by the Spanish troopsthe impossibilityArtaud sitting on a madhouse benchChatterton drinking rat poisonShakespeare a plagiaristBeethoven with a horn stuck into his head against deafnessthe impossibility the impossibilityNietzsche gone totally madthe impossibility of being humanall too humanthis breathingin and outout and inthese punksthese cowardsthese championsthese mad dogs of glorymoving this little bit of light towardusimpossibly

~ Charles Bukowski

the gods play nofavorites.

~ Charles Bukowski

the gods seldomgivebut so quicklytake.

~ Charles Bukowski

We don’t even ask happiness, just a little less pain.

~ Charles Bukowski

she slammed the door andwas gone.I looked at the closed doorand at the doorknoband strangelyI didn't feelalone.

~ Charles Bukowski

as long as there arehuman beings aboutthere is never going to beany peacefor any individualupon this earth (oranywhere elsethey mightescape to).all you can dois maybe grabten lucky minuteshereor maybe an hourthere.somethingis working toward youright now, andI mean youand nobody butyou.

~ Charles Bukowski

I see a brightportionunder the overhead lightthat shades intodarknessand then into darkerdarknessand I can't see beyond that.

~ Charles Bukowski

La mayoría de la muerte de la gente es una farsa, no queda en ellos nada que pueda morir

~ Charles Bukowski

I believe that to be the world's greatest livingwriterthere must be somethingterribly wrong with you.I don't even want to be the world's greatestdead writer.just being dead would be fairenough.

~ Charles Bukowski

I paid, got up, walkedto the door, openedit.I heard the mansay, that guy'snuts.out on the street Iwalked northfeelingcuriouslyhonored.

~ Charles Bukowski

the best part waspulling down theshadesstuffing the doorbellwith ragsputting the phonein therefrigeratorand going to bedfor 3 or 4days. and the next bestpartwasnobody evermissedme.

~ Charles Bukowski

sometimes when everything seems atits worstwhen all conspiresand gnawsand the hours, days, weeksyearsseem wasted – stretched there upon my bedin the darklooking upward at the ceilingi get what many will consider anobnoxious thought:it’s still nice to beBukowski.

~ Charles Bukowski

where some god pissed a rain of reason to make things grow only to die

~ Charles Bukowski

I remember yoursaying: make itor break it.neither happened anditwon't.

~ Charles Bukowski

crawled like a blind slug into the web

~ Charles Bukowski

There is only one place to write and that is alone at a typewriter. The writer who has to go into the streets is a writer who does not know the streets. . . when you leave your typewriter you leave your machine gun and the rats come pouring through.

~ Charles Bukowski

Basically, that's why I wrote: to save my ass, to save my ass from the madhouse, from the streets, from myself.

~ Charles Bukowski

people need me. I fillthem. if they can't see mefor awhile the get desperate, they getsick.but if I see them too oftenI get sick. it's hard to feedwithout getting fed.

~ Charles Bukowski

I have one problem, I don’t hate people. They disgust me and I want to get away from them. I do not have hatred. I have an escape mechanism.

~ Charles Bukowski

Her one drink had Cecelia giggling and talking and she was explaining that animals had souls too. Nobody challenged her opinion. It was possible, we knew. What we weren't sure of was if we had any.

~ Charles Bukowski

You're the most unknown famous man I ever met

~ Charles Bukowski

I don't know. It's been terribly hard for me. How do I know you won't do it again?''Nobody is ever quite sure of what they will do. You aren't sure what you might do.

~ Charles Bukowski

You women have more holes than swiss cheese.

~ Charles Bukowski

All we do is sleep, and eat and lay around and make love. We're like slugs. Slug-love, I call it.

~ Charles Bukowski

the first place smelled like work, so I took the second

~ Charles Bukowski

that's ONE thing that's wrong with intellectuals and writers - they don't feel a hell of a lot except their own comfort or their own pain. which is normal but shitty.

~ Charles Bukowski

unaccountably we are aloneforever aloneand it was meant to bethat way,it was never meantto be any other way–and when the death strugglebeginsthe last thing I wish to seeisa ring of human faceshovering over me–better just my old friends,the walls of my self,let only them be there.I have been alone but seldomlonely.I have satisfied my thirstat the wellof my selfand that wine was good,the best I ever had,and tonightsittingstaring into the darkI now finally understandthe dark and thelight and everythingin between.peace of mind and heartarriveswhen we accept whatis:having beenborn into thisstrange lifewe must acceptthe wasted gamble of ourdaysand take some satisfaction inthe pleasure ofleaving it allbehind.cry not for me.grieve not for me.readwhat I’ve writtenthenforget itall.drink from the wellof your selfand beginagain.Mind and Heart

~ Charles Bukowski

The ass is the face of the soul of sex.

~ Charles Bukowski

it does seemthe more we drinkthe better the wordsgo.

~ Charles Bukowski

I feel no grief for being called somethingwhichI am not;in fact, it's enthralling, somehow, like a goodback rub

~ Charles Bukowski

it is so dark now with the sadness ofpeoplethey were tricked, they were taught to expect theultimate when nothing ispromisednow young girls weep alone in small roomsold men angrily swing their canes atvisions asladies comb their hair asants search for survivalhistory surrounds usand our livesslink awayinshame.

~ Charles Bukowski

we are burning like a chicken wing left on the grill of an outdoor barbecuewe are unwanted and burning we are burning and unwanted we arean unwantedburningas we sizzle and fryto the bonethe coals of Dante's 'Inferno' spit and sputter beneathus andabove the sky is an open hand andthe words of wise men are uselessit's not a nice world, a nice world it's not ...

~ Charles Bukowski

she wasn't veryinterestingbut few peopleare.

~ Charles Bukowski

the price of creationis nevertoo high.the price of livingwith other peoplealwaysis.

~ Charles Bukowski

the world is better withoutthem.only the plants and the animals aretrue comrades.I drink to them and withthem.

~ Charles Bukowski