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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.

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
Giving
Bits
World
Greatest
Wisdom
Light
Also
Give
Soul
Music
Laughter

More quotes by Charles Bukowski

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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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Baby, I said. I'm a genius but nobody knows it but me.
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I have no time for things that have no soul.
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your letters got sadder. your lovers betrayed you. kid, I wrote back, all lovers betray. it didn't help. you said you had a crying bench and it was by a bridge and the bridge was over the river and you sat on the crying bench every night and wept for the lovers who had hurt and forgotten you.
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When you clean up a city, you destroy it.
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People were interesting at first. Then later, slowly but surely, all the flaws and madness would manifest themselves. I would become less and less to them they would mean less and less to me.
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I went over to see Marina two or three or four times a week. I knew as long as I could see the girl I would be all right…. Soon after, I got a letter from Fay. She and the child were living in a hippie commune in New Mexico. It was a nice place, she said. Marina would be able to breathe there. She enclosed a little drawing the girl had made for me.
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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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Courts are places where the ending is written first and all that precedes is simply vaudeville.
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There is no hurry. Time means nothing to you.
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I feel no grief for being called something which I am not in fact, it's enthralling, somehow, like a good back rub
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Even the stove and the refrigerator looked human, I mean good human - they seemed to have arms and voices and they said, hang around, kid, it's good here, it can be very good here.
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It was only the matter of a new voice. Nobody listened to an old voice anymore. Old voices became a part of one's self, like a fingernail.
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Capitalism has survived communism. Now, it eats away at itself.
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Well, the rain had stopped but the pain was still there.
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it is all ash and dry leaves and grief gone like an ocean liner.
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Wherever the crowd goes run in the other direction. They're always wrong.
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First paycheck I get, I thought, I'm going to get myself a room near the downtown L.A. Public Library.
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The Artist, an ancient sage had once said, is always sitting on the doorsteps of the rich.
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I write right off the typer. I call it my machinegun. I hit it hard, usually late at night while drinking wine and listening to classical music on the radio and smoking mangalore ganesh beedies.
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