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I'm too careless. I don't put out enough effort. I'm tired.
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
Effort
Enough
Careless
Tired
More quotes by Charles Bukowski
I give you soul. I give you wisdom and light and music and a bit of laughter. Also, I am the world's greatest horseplayer.
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There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I pour whiskey on him and inhale cigarette smoke and the whores and the bartenders and the grocery clerks never know that he's in there.
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What? You’d dare drink right after getting out of jail for intoxication?” That’s when you need a drink the most.
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People do too much. They say too much.
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Sometimes you just have to pee in the sink.
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I hope that death contains less than this.
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I was a man who thrived on solitude without it I was like another man without food or water. Each day without solitude weakened me. I took no pride in my solitude but I was dependent on it. The darkness of the room was like sunlight to me.
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I held her wrists and then I got it through the eyes: hatred, centuries deep and true. I was wrong and graceless and sick. all the things I had learned had been wasted. there was no creature living as foul as I and all my poems were false.
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In my next life I want to be a cat. To sleep 20 hours a day and wait to be fed. To sit around licking my ass.
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It's just that the grape has me down.
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When Ginsburg is at the top of his game you might as well put down your toys and listen.
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There is only one place to write and that is alone at a typewriter. The writer who has to go into the streets is a writer who does not know the streets. . . when you leave your typewriter you leave your machine gun and the rats come pouring through.
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Life's as kind as you let it be.
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there is always one woman to save you from another and as that woman saves you she makes ready to destroy
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You just rebel against everything. How are you going to survive? I don't know. I'm already tired.
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sometimes I hate you, she said.
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Sex can sometimes become the most horrible of tasks.
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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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Some people like what you do, some people hate what you do, but most people simply don't give a damn.
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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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