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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.
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
Interest
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First
Enough
Even
Learned
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Passion
More quotes by Charles Bukowski
I have gotten so used to melancholia that I greet it like an old friend.
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There is nothing as boring as the truth.
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I will remember the kisses, our lips raw with love, and how you gave me everything you had and how I offered you what was left of me.
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I'm too careless. I don't put out enough effort. I'm tired.
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The hangover was brutal but he didn't mind. It told him he had been somewhere else, someplace good.
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that your power of command with simple language was one of the magnificent things of our century. (from the poem: result)
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when I was a boy I used to dream of becoming the village idiot. I used to lie in bed and imagine myself the happy idiot able to get food easily ...and easy sympathy, a planned confusion of not too much love or effort. some would claim that I have succeeded.
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Before you kill something make sure you have something better to replace it with.
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Don’t do it. Don’t love me.
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If you want to create, you'll create.
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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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A day of minor profit or prophet led to a night of drunkenness.
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nothing can save you except writing. it keeps the walls from failing.
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Almost everybody is born a genius and buried an idiot.
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…He was always high on drugs. I was not a drug man, but in case I wanted to hide from myself for a few days, I knew I could get anything I wanted from him.
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The writer has no responsibility other than to jack off in bed alone and write a good page.
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Never bring a lot of money to where a poor man lives. He can only lose what little he has. On the other hand it is mathematically possible that he might win whatever you bring with you. What you must do, with money and the poor, is never let them get too close to one another.
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Before my death I hope to obtain my life.
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and the color in my eyes has gone back into the sea.
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Pretty words, as pretty women, wrinkle up and die.
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