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Slavery was never abolished, it was only extended to include all the colors.

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
Never
Abolished
Extended
Include
Colors
Slavery
Color

More quotes by Charles Bukowski

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For each Joan of Arc there is a Hitler perched at the other end of the teeter-totter.
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and the color in my eyes has gone back into the sea.
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I knew it would be you
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as the spirit wanes the form appears
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dogs and angels are not very far apart
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you are yesterday's bouquet so sadly raided
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I was only photographing in words the reality of it all.
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They laughed. Things were funny. They weren't afraid to care. There was no sense to life, to the structure of things.
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this time has finished me.
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Almost everybody is born a genius and buried an idiot.
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I will put on my shoes and shirt and get out of here - it'll be better for all of us.
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Pretty words, as pretty women, wrinkle up and die.
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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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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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It’s not so much that nothing means anything but more that it keeps meaning nothing. there’s no release, just gurus and self- appointed gods and hucksters. the more people say, the less there is to say. even the best books are dry sawdust.
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as the shadows assume shapes I fight the slow retreat now my once-promise dwindling dwindling now lighting new cigarettes pouring more drinks it has been a beautiful fight still is.
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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.
Charles Bukowski
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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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Basically, that's why I wrote: to save my ass, to save my ass from the madhouse, from the streets, from myself.
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I am not like other people. I am burning in hell. The hell of myself.
Charles Bukowski