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Gradually I came to realize that my understanding of women goes only as far as the pleasure is concerned.
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
Women
Gradually
Concerned
Realize
Goes
Realizing
Came
Pleasure
Understanding
More quotes by Charles Bukowski
there's no defense except all the errors made
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Goodness can be found sometimes in the middle of hell.
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There's no way I can stop writing, it's a form of insanity.
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I would give anything for a female's hand on me tonight. they soften a man and then leave him listening to the rain.
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I can never drive my car over a bridge without thinking of suicide. I can never look at a lake or an ocean without thinking of suicide.
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great writers are indecent people they live unfairly saving the best part for paper. good human beings save the world so that bastards like me can keep creating art, become immortal. if you read this after I am dead it means I made it.
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mercy, I think, doesn't the human race know anything about mercy?
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I never met another man I'd rather be. And even if that's a delusion, it's a lucky one.
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Too often the people complain that they have done nothing with their lives and then they wait for somebody to tell them that this isn't so.
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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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I sit here drunk now. I am a series of small victories and large defeats and I am as amazed as any other that I have gotten from there to here without committing murder or being murdered without having ended up in the madhouse. as I drink alone again tonight my soul despite all the past agony thanks all the gods who were not there for me then.
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one can never be sure whether it's good poetry or bad acid
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Let it die. Let there be a new beginning. It’s awful. Goodnight.
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I can almost understand why people leap from bridges.
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There still might be a place for us somewhere.
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But my whole life has been a matter of fighting for one simple hour to do what I want to do. There was always something getting in the way of my getting to myself.
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I never pump up my vulgarity. I wait for it to arrive in its own terms.
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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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