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The night kept coming on in and there was nothing I could do.

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
Nothing
Kept
Coming
Night

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it is all ash and dry leaves and grief gone like an ocean liner.
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I guess the only time most people think about injustice is when it happens to them.
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If you want to create, you'll create.
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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.
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I'm going, she said. I love you but you're crazy, you're doomed.
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the way to create art is to burn and destroy ordinary concepts and to substitute them with new truths that run down from the top of the head and out of the heart
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The trouble with these people is that their cities have never been bombed and their mothers have never been told to shut up.
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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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I was laying in bed one night and I thought 'I'll just quit - to hell with it.' And another little voice inside me said 'Don't quit - save that tiny little ember of spark.' And never give them that spark because as long as you have that spark, you can start the greatest fire again.
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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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well, death says, as he walks by, I'm going to get you anyhow no matter what you've been: writer, cab-driver, pimp, butcher, sky-diver, I'm going to get you
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I call 'em complaining machines. Things are never right with a guy to them. And man, when you throw that hysteria in there ... forget it. I gotta get out, get in the car, and go. Anywhere. Get a cup of coffee somewhere. Anywhere. Anything but another woman. I guess they're just built different, right?
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If there are junk yards in hell, love is the dog that guards the gates.
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Finally there is nothing here for death to take away.
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whiskey makes the heart beat faster but it sure doesn't help the mind and isn't it funny how you can ache just from the deadly drone of existence?
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Never envy a man his lady. Behind it all lays a living hell.
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When a writer is swayed with his fame and his fortune, you can float him down the river with the turds.
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My dear, Find what you love and let it kill you. Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness. Let it kill you and let it devour your remains. For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it’s much better to be killed by a lover. ~ Falsely yours
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As we go on with our lives we tend to forget that the jails and the hospitals and the madhouses and the graveyards are packed.
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I see men assassinated around me every day. I walk through rooms of the dead, streets of the dead, cities of the dead men without eyes, men without voices men with manufactured feelings and standard reactions men with newspaper brains, television souls and high school ideas.
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