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It is possible to be truly mad and to still exist upon scraps of 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
Truly
Possible
Upon
Stills
Still
Scraps
Life
Scrap
Mad
Exist

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Four days alone with nothing. Emerge empowered. The first human face you see will knock you back 50%.
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People with no morals often considered themselves more free, but mostly they lacked the ability to feel or love.
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there is a place in the heart that will never be filled a space and even during the best moments and the greatest times times we will know it we will know it more than ever there is a place in the heart that will never be filled and we will wait and wait in that space.
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there must be a way. surely there must be a way that we have not yet thought of. who put this brain inside of me? it cries it demands it says that there is a chance. it will not say no.
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... to die on a kitchen floor at 7 o'clock in the morning while other people are frying eggs is not so rough unless it happens to you.
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Beware of those who seek constant crowds they are nothing alone.
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I heard an airplane passing overhead. I wished I was on it.
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There are no good wars or bad wars. The only thing bad about a war is to lose it. All wars have been fought for a so-called good Cause on both sides. But only the victor's Cause becomes history's Noble Cause. It's not a matter of who is right or who is wrong, it's a matter of who has the best generals and the better army!
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The male, for all his bravado and exploration, is the loyal one, the one who generally feels love. The female is skilled at betrayal and torture and damnation.
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There's nothing to mourn about death any more than there is to mourn about the growing of a flower. What is terrible is not death but the lives people live or don't live up until their death.
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I was in love again. I was in trouble
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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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They looked as if nothing had ever touched them--all well-mothered, protected, with a soft sheen of contentment. None of them had ever been in jail, or worked hard with their hands, or even gotten a traffic ticket. Skimmed-milk jollies, the whole bunch.
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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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To experience real agony is something hard to write about, impossible to understand while it grips you you're frightened out of your wits, can’t sit still, move, or even go decently insane.
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I will put on my shoes and shirt and get out of here - it'll be better for all of us.
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I am a poem. There is no way out.
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we drove on and on, past little villages and both good things and bad things were happening to the people in those villages too, but I still was nothing but arms and ears and eyes and maybe there'd be either some good luck for me or more death tomorrow.
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If there are junk yards in hell, love is the dog that guards the gates.
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You are thirty minutes late. Yes. Would you be thirty minutes late to a wedding or a funeral? No. Why not, pray tell? Well, if the funeral was mine I'd have to be on time. If the wedding was mine it would be my funeral.
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