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and love is a word used too much and much too soon.

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
Soon
Word
Used
Much
Love

More quotes by Charles Bukowski

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The male, for all his bravado and exploration, is the loyal one, the one who generally feels love. The female is skilled at betrayal and torture and damnation.
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The apartment was built at the edge of a high cliff so that when you looked out the back window it seemed as if you were twelve floors up instead of four. It was very much like living on the edge of the world - a last resting place before the final big drop.
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Getting drunk was good. I decided that I would always like getting drunk. It took away the obvious and maybe if you could get away from the obvious often enough, you wouldn't become so obvious yourself.
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I kept telling myself that all the women in the world weren´t whores, just mine.
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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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If you're going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don't even start.
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People need me. I fill them. If they can't see me for a while they get desperate, they get sick. But if I see them too often I get sick. It's hard to feed without getting fed.
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Let it die. Let there be a new beginning. It’s awful. Goodnight.
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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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When you drank the world was still out there, but for the moment it didn’t have you by the throat.
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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.
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don't be ashamed of anything I guess God meant it all like locks on doors.
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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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Her one drink had Cecelia giggling and talking and she was explaining that animals had souls too. Nobody challenged her opinion. It was possible, we knew. What we weren't sure of was if we had any.
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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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eleven months. now she's gone gone as they go.
Charles Bukowski
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News travels fast in places where nothing much ever happens.
Charles Bukowski
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what matters most is how well you walk through the fire
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the best often die by their own hand just to get away, and those left behind can never quite understand why anybody would ever want to get away from them
Charles Bukowski
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The writer has no responsibility other than to jack off in bed alone and write a good page.
Charles Bukowski