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It was a joy! Words weren't dull, words were things that could make your mind hum. If you read them and let yourself feel the magic, you could live without pain, with hope, no matter what happened to you.

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
Matter
Reading
Feel
Read
Feels
Hope
Mind
Words
Weren
Make
Pain
Dull
Things
Live
Magic
Book
Joy
Without
Happened

More quotes by Charles Bukowski

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There is nothing that teaches you more than regrouping after failure and moving on. Yet most people are stricken with fear. They fear failure so much that they fail. They are too conditioned, too used to being told what to do. It begins with the family, runs through school and goes into the business world.
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I'll get back to the whores and the horses and the booze, while there's time.
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Do you hate people? I don't hate them...I just feel better when they're not around.
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Daddy,' my mother asked, 'aren’t we going to run out of gas?' No there’s plenty of god-damned gas.' Where are we going?' I’m going to get some god-damed oranges!
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The streets were full of insane & dull people. Most of them lived in nice houses and didn't seem to work, and you wondered how they did it.
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Not everybody thought they could be a dentist or an automobile mechanic but everybody knew they could be a writer.
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It is possible to be truly mad and to still exist upon scraps of life.
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It was hard for me to believe. When recess was over I sat in class and thought about it. My mother had a hole and my father had a dong that shot juice. How could they have things like that and walk around as if everything was normal, and talk about things, and then do it and not tell anybody?
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there are policemen in the street and angels in the clouds
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I never understood society. i undersand that it works somehow and that it functions as a reality and that its realities are necessary to keep us from worse realities. but all i sense are that are plenty of police and jails and judges and laws and that what is meant to protect me is breaking me down.
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Love is a form of prejudice. I have too many other prejudices.
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unless the sun inside you is burning your gut, don't do it
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Sundays kill more people than bombs.
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Homosexuals are delicate and bad poetry is delicate and [Allen] Ginsberg turned the tables by making homosexual poetry strong poetry, almost manly poetry but in the long run, the homo will remain the homo and not the poet.
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I never write in the daytime. It's like running through the shopping mall with your clothes off. Everybody can see you. At night ... that's when you pull the tricks ... magic.
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we know God is dead, they've told us, but listening to you I wasn't sure.
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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 write right off the typer. I call it my machinegun. I hit it hard, usually late at night while drinking wine and listening to classical music on the radio and smoking mangalore ganesh beedies.
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All a guy needed was a chance. Somebody was alway controlling who got a chance and who didn't.
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Some men hope for revolution but when you revolt and set up your new government you find your new government is still the same old Papa, he has only put on a cardboard mask.
Charles Bukowski