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I met a genius on the train today about 6 years old, he sat beside me and as the train ran down along the coast we came to the ocean and then he looked at me and said, it’s not pretty.

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
Genius
Beside
Along
Coast
Pretty
Sat
Came
Ran
Today
Mets
Years
Train
Ocean
Looked

More quotes by Charles Bukowski

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I'm too careless. I don't put out enough effort. I'm tired.
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i dunno, i said, but i have an idea that people who don't think too much tend to look younger longer
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Bad poetry is caused by people who sit down and think, Now I am going to write a Poem.
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I was beaten down long ago in some alley in another world.
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Dear child, I only did to you what the sparrow did to you I am old when it is fashionable to be young I cry when it is fashionable to laugh. I hated you when it would have taken less courage to love.
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It's just that the grape has me down.
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if you think they didn't go crazy in tiny rooms just like you're doing now without women without food without hope then you're not ready.
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and love was lightning and remembrance
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all that I know is that I believe in the sound of music and the running of a horse. all else is squabble.
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When a hot woman meets a hermit one of them is going to change.
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Long before I became 'rich and famous' I just sat round drinking wine and staring at the walls.
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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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I write as a function. Without it I would fall ill and die. It's as much a part of one as the liver or intestine, and just about as glamorous.
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To me Art (poetry) is a continuous and continuing process and that when a man fails to write good poetry he fails to live fully or well.
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nothing's news. it's the same old thing in disguise. only one thing comes without a disguise and you only see it once, or maybe never. like getting hit by a freight train. makes us realize that all our moaning about long lost girls in gingham dresses is not so important after all.
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It is possible to be truly mad and to still exist upon scraps of life.
Charles Bukowski
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since some people had told me that I was ugly, I always preferred shade to the sun, darkness to light
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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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Some people never go crazy, What truly horrible lives they must live.
Charles Bukowski
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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.
Charles Bukowski