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It’s never quite right, all the things we are taught, all the loves we chase, all the deaths we die, all the lives we live.

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
Taught
Quite
Dies
Lives
Live
Right
Deaths
Things
Chase
Never
Loves

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I had no Freedom. I had nothing.
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The wisest thing to do if you’re living in hell is to make yourself comfortable.
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and love was lightning and remembrance
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They were beautiful nothings
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I have gotten so used to melancholia that I greet it like an old friend.
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We are here to laugh at the odds.
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writing about a writer's block is better than not writing at all
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It's not the large things that send a man to the madhouse... no, it's the continuing series of small tragedies... not the death of his love but the shoelace that snaps with no time left.
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there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average human being to supply any given army on any given day and the best at murder are those who preach against it and the best at hate are those who preach love and the best at war finally are those who preach peace
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But then if you lied to a man about his talent just because he was sitting across from you, that was the most unforgivable lie of them all, because that was telling him to go on, to continue which was the worst way for a man without real talent to waste his life, finally. But many people did just that, friends and relatives mostly.
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Fay had a spot of blood on the left side of her mouth and I took a wet cloth and wiped it off. Women were meant to suffer no wonder they asked for constant declarations of love.
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There's nothing unusual about love.
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I sit here drunk now. I am a series of small victories and large defeats and I am as amazed as any other that I have gotten from there to here without committing murder or being murdered without having ended up in the madhouse. as I drink alone again tonight my soul despite all the past agony thanks all the gods who were not there for me then.
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He had long nostril hairs, powerfully intimidating, like an unscheduled nightmare.
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Disneyland remains the central attraction of Southern California, but the graveyard remains our reality.
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When you clean up a city, you destroy it.
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It was like a church in there as only the truly lost sit in bars on Tuesday mornings at 8:00 a.m.
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It was hard for me to believe. When recess was over I sat in class and thought about it. My mother had a hole and my father had a dong that shot juice. How could they have things like that and walk around as if everything was normal, and talk about things, and then do it and not tell anybody?
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Let' em learn or let' em die
Charles Bukowski
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Meanwhile the 3 a.m. drunks of the world would lay in their beds, trying in vain to sleep, and deserving that rest, if they could find it.
Charles Bukowski