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That's the way it ends. The thin edge of the wedge.
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
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Writer
Henry Charles Bukowski
Buk
charles bukowski
Wedge
Wedges
Thin
Edge
Edges
Ends
Way
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This incompleteness is all we have.
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Love breaks my bones and I laugh
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For each Joan of Arc there is a Hitler perched at the other end of the teeter-totter.
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To me Art (poetry) is a continuous and continuing process and that when a man fails to write good poetry he fails to live fully or well.
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and even the trees we walked under seemed less than trees and more like everything else.
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Slavery was never abolished, it was only extended to include all the colors.
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It didn't pay to trust another human being. Humans didn't have it, whatever it took.
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morning night and noon the traffic moves through and the murder and treachery of friends and lovers and all the people move through you. pain is the joy of knowing the unkindest truth that arrives without warning. life is being alone death is being alone. even the fools weep morning night and noon.
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Alcohol is probably one of the greatest things to arrive upon the earth - alongside of me.
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In my next life I want to be a cat. To sleep 20 hours a day and wait to be fed. To sit around licking my ass.
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Humanity, you never had it to begin with.
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Capitalism has survived communism. Now, it eats away at itself.
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I sit here drunk now. I am a series of small victories and large defeats and I am as amazed as any other that I have gotten from there to here without committing murder or being murdered without having ended up in the madhouse. as I drink alone again tonight my soul despite all the past agony thanks all the gods who were not there for me then.
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I wanted the whole world or nothing.
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Each person is only given so many evenings and each wasted evening is a gross violation against the natural course of your only life.
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Those who escape hell however never talk about it and nothing much bothers them after that
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I don’t understand people, never will. It looks like I got to travel pretty much alone.
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The worst men have the best jobs the best men have the worst jobs or are unemployed or locked in madhouses.
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Your parents don't give you much love, do they?' 'I don't need that stuff,' I told her. 'Henry, everybody needs love.' 'I don't need anything.' 'You poor boy.
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