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I was only photographing in words the reality of it all.
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
Photographing
Words
Reality
More quotes by Charles Bukowski
Basically, that's why I wrote: to save my ass, to save my ass from the madhouse, from the streets, from myself.
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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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You were destroyed by what you befriended.
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If you let them kill you, they will
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The secret is writing down one simple line after another.
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in the cupboard sits my bottle like a dwarf waiting to scratch out my prayers. I drink and cough like some idiot at a symphony, sunlight and maddened birds are everywhere, the phone rings gamboling its sound against the odds of the crooked sea I drink deeply and evenly now, I drink to paradise and death and the lie of love.
Charles Bukowski
eleven months. now she's gone gone as they go.
Charles Bukowski
I'm only interested in poetry.
Charles Bukowski
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
Maybe when I get in the grave, things will be beautiful.
Charles Bukowski
the masses are everywhere they know how to do things: they have sane and deadly angers for sane and deadly things.
Charles Bukowski
Pretty words, as pretty women, wrinkle up and die.
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My heart is a thousand years old. I am not like other people.
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There is nothing as boring as the truth.
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Love is all right for those who can handle the psychic overload. It's like trying to carry a full garbage can on your back over a rushing river of piss.
Charles Bukowski
Figuring the average poet starts at 16, I am 23.
Charles Bukowski
A love like that was a serious illness, an illness from which you never entirely recover.
Charles Bukowski
When you clean up a city, you destroy it.
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That the young rich smell the stink of the poor and learn to find it a bit amusing. They had to laugh, otherwise it would be too terrifying.
Charles Bukowski
Never envy a man his lady. Behind it all lays a living hell.
Charles Bukowski
