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I would be married, but I'd have no wife, I would be married to a single life.

Charles Bukowski

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Charles Bukowski
Age: 73 †
Born: 1920
Born: August 16
Died: 1994
Died: March 9
Actor
Author
Autobiographer
Columnist
Diarist
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Screenwriter
Writer
Henry Charles Bukowski
Buk
charles bukowski
Life
Rebellious
Wedding
Married
Marriage
Single
Wife
Would

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There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I pour whiskey on him and inhale cigarette smoke and the whores and the bartenders and the grocery clerks never know that he's in there.
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I think that the world should be full of cats and full of rain, that's all, just cats and rain, rain and cats, very nice, good night.
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Most people are much better at saying things in letters than in conversation, and some people can write artistic, inventive letters, but when they try a poem or story or novel they become pretentious.
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My flesh looked like it wasn't trying. It looked like it hated being part of me.
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Knowledge is knowing as little as possible.
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If you want to know who your friends are, get yourself a jail sentence.
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the way to create art is to burn and destroy ordinary concepts and to substitute them with new truths that run down from the top of the head and out of the heart
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He asked, What makes a man a writer? Well, I said, it's simple. You either get it down on paper, or jump off a bridge.
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People in love often become edgy, dangerous. They lose their sense of perspective.
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purple does something strange to me
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Find what you love and let it kill you.
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The empty, the angry, the lonely, the tricked, we are all museums of fear.
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When a writer is swayed with his fame and his fortune, you can float him down the river with the turds.
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Pain is strange. A cat killing a bird, a car accident, a fire.... Pain arrives, BANG, and there it is, it sits on you. It's real. And to anybody watching, you look foolish. Like you've suddenly become an idiot. There's no cure for it unless you know somebody who understands how you feel, and knows how to help.
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A love like that was a serious illness, an illness from which you never entirely recover.
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she’ mad but she’ magic. there’ no lie in her fire.
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I am aware that a computer can’t create a poem, but neither can a typewriter.
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there is enough treachery , hatred violence absurdity in the average human being to supply any given army on any given day
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there's no clarity. there was never meant to be clarity.
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I can almost understand why people leap from bridges.
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