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Some lose all mind and become soul,insane. some lose all soul and become mind, intellectual. some lose both and become accepted
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
Lose
Loses
Become
Soul
Mind
Insane
Accepted
Intellectual
More quotes by Charles Bukowski
I don't know about other people, but when I wake up in the morning and put my shoes on, I think, Jesus Christ, now what?
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I am aware that a computer can’t create a poem, but neither can a typewriter.
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I'm very clever at hiding poems perhaps more clever than I am at writing them.
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The free soul is rare, but you know it when you see it
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nothing can save you except writing. it keeps the walls from failing.
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We waste days like mad blackbirds and pray for alcoholic nightsour silk-sick human smiles wrap around us like somebody else's confetti
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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.
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the writing of some men is like a vast bridge that carries you over the many things that claw and tear. The Wine of Forever
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There is nothing that teaches you more than regrouping after failure and moving on.
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the people are the biggest horror show on earth, have been for centuries.
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the whole world is caught in her glance and at last the universe is magnificent.
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Look, let me put it this way: with me, you’re number one and there isn’t even a number two.
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The worst thing for a writer is to know another writer, and worse than that, to know a number of other writers. Like flies on the same turd.
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they simply never understand, do they, that sometimes solitude is one of the most beautiful things on earth?
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My heart is a thousand years old. I am not like other people.
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Pretty words, as pretty women, wrinkle up and die.
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There's no way I can stop writing, it's a form of insanity.
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mercy, I think, doesn't the human race know anything about mercy?
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It's hot tonight and half the neighborhood is drunk. the other half is dead. if I have any advice about writing poetry it's - don't. I'm going to send out for some fried chicken.
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That's the problem with drinking, I thought, as I poured myself a drink. If something bad happens you drink in an attempt to forget if something good happens you drink in order to celebrate and if nothing happens you drink to make something happen.
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