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being alone never felt right. sometimes it felt good, but it never felt right.

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
Never
Alone
Felt
Right
Sometimes
Good

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there's no defense except all the errors made
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That’s when I first learned that it wasn’t enough to just do your job, you had to have an interest in it, even a passion for it.
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Dear child, I only did to you what the sparrow did to you I am old when it is fashionable to be young I cry when it is fashionable to laugh. I hated you when it would have taken less courage to love.
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In a more universal sense, we only get one thing. You know...a head stone if we're lucky if not, green grass.
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i was born to hustle roses down the avenue of the dead.
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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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beware those quick to praise for they need praise in return beware those who are quick to censor they are afraid of what they do not know beware those who seek constant crowds for they are nothing alone beware the average man the average woman beware their love, their love is average seeks average
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I felt I had to win. It seemed very important. I didn't know why it was important and I kept thinking, why do I think this is so important? And another part of me answered, just because it is.
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I could read the great books but the great books don't interest me.
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This incompleteness is all we have.
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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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Cautiously, I allowed myself to feel good at times. I found moments of peace in cheap rooms just staring at the knobs of some dresser or listening to the rain in the dark. The less I needed the better I felt.
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If you want to create, you'll create.
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We are here to laugh at the odds.
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Let it die. Let there be a new beginning. It’s awful. Goodnight.
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some moments are nice, some are nicer, some are even worth writing about.
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I only want sweet peace and kindliness when I awaken -- but there's always some finger pointing, telling me some terrible deed I committed during the night. It seems I make a lot of mistakes and it seems that I am not allowed any.
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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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nobody can save you but yourself. you will be put again and again into nearly impossible situations. they will attempt again and again through subterfuge, guise and force to make you submit, quit and/or die quietly inside. nobody can save you but yourself
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In New York you've got to have all the luck.
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