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As we go on with our lives we tend to forget that the jails and the hospitals and the madhouses and the graveyards are packed.
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
Forget
Graveyards
Lives
Madhouses
Jails
Packed
Graveyard
Hospitals
Jail
Tend
More quotes by Charles Bukowski
there must be a way. surely there must be a way that we have not yet thought of. who put this brain inside of me? it cries it demands it says that there is a chance. it will not say no.
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There's nothing unusual about love.
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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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There are no good wars or bad wars. The only thing bad about a war is to lose it. All wars have been fought for a so-called good Cause on both sides. But only the victor's Cause becomes history's Noble Cause. It's not a matter of who is right or who is wrong, it's a matter of who has the best generals and the better army!
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and love is a word used too much and much too soon.
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the people are the biggest horror show on earth, have been for centuries.
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I kept telling myself that all the women in the world weren´t whores, just mine.
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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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I feel strangely normal.
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If you're losing your soul and you know it, then you've still got a soul left to lose.
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Do some living and get yourself a typewriter.
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Once in a dream I saw a snake swallowing its own tail, it swallowed and swallowed until it got halfway round, and there it stopped and there it stayed, it was stuffed with its own self. Some fix, that. We only have ourselves to go on, and it's enough.
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In a more universal sense, we only get one thing. You know...a head stone if we're lucky if not, green grass.
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You were destroyed by what you befriended.
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I could read the great books but the great books don't interest me.
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whiskey makes the heart beat faster but it sure doesn't help the mind and isn't it funny how you can ache just from the deadly drone of existence?
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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.
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I can't blame her. but wonder why she's here with me? where are the other guys? how can you be lucky? having someone the others have abandoned?
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If you can only remain pure in your stupidity, someday you may get a phone call from hell.
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I was only photographing in words the reality of it all.
Charles Bukowski
