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magic persists without us no matter what we may do to try to spoil 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
Magic
May
Without
Matter
Trying
Persists
Spoil
Persist
More quotes by Charles Bukowski
Show me a man who lives alone and has a perpetually clean kitchen, and 8 times out of 9 I'll show you a man with detestable spiritual qualities.
Charles Bukowski
The secret is writing down one simple line after another.
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We are all museums of fear.
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… and we are in bed together laughing and we don’t care about anything.
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the tigers have found me and I do not care.
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I am a poem. There is no way out.
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Sundays kill more people than bombs.
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hate contains truth. beauty is a facade.
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People do too much. They say too much.
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as the spirit wanes the form appears
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Boring damned people. All over the earth. Propagating more boring damned people. What a horror show. The earth swarmed with them.
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some moments are nice, some are nicer, some are even worth writing about.
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Lighting new cigarettes, pouring more drinks. It has been a beautiful fight. Still is.
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I only want sweet peace and kindliness when I awaken -- but there's always some finger pointing, telling me some terrible deed I committed during the night. It seems I make a lot of mistakes and it seems that I am not allowed any.
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News travels fast in places where nothing much ever happens.
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A spark can set a whole forest on fire. Just a spark. Save it.
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We waste days like mad blackbirds and pray for alcoholic nightsour silk-sick human smiles wrap around us like somebody else's confetti
Charles Bukowski
being alone never felt right. sometimes it felt good, but it never felt right.
Charles Bukowski
Those who escape hell however never talk about it and nothing much bothers them after that
Charles Bukowski
my 6 foot goddess makes me laugh the laughter of the mutilated who still need love... she has saved me from everything that is not here
Charles Bukowski
