Quote

There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I pour whiskey on him and inhale cigarette smoke and the whores and the bartenders and the grocery clerks never know that he's in there.

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
Heart
Clerks
Never
Grocery
Groceries
Pour
Bartenders
Whiskey
Bluebird
Cigarette
Whores
Smoke
Bartender
Wants
Inhale

More quotes by Charles Bukowski

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Daddy,' my mother asked, 'aren’t we going to run out of gas?' No there’s plenty of god-damned gas.' Where are we going?' I’m going to get some god-damed oranges!
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Some people never go crazy, What truly horrible lives they must live.
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I give you soul. I give you wisdom and light and music and a bit of laughter. Also, I am the world's greatest horseplayer.
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Where did all the women come from? The supply was endless. Each one of them was individual, different. Their pussies were different, their kisses were different, their breasts were different, but no man could drink them all, there were too many of them, crossing their legs, driving men mad. What a feast!
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People don't need love. What they need is success in one form or another. It can be love but it needn't be.
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Before my death I hope to obtain my life.
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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
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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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The whole LSD, STP, marijuana, heroin, hashish, prescription cough medicine crowd suffers from the Watchtower itch: you gotta be with us, man, or you're out, you're dead. This pitch is a continual and seeming MUST with those who use the stuff. It's no wonder they keep getting busted.
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I stopped looking for a Dream Girl, I just wanted one that wasn't a nightmare.
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A spark can set a whole forest on fire. Just a spark. Save it.
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Some men hope for revolution but when you revolt and set up your new government you find your new government is still the same old Papa, he has only put on a cardboard mask.
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To experience real agony is something hard to write about, impossible to understand while it grips you you're frightened out of your wits, can’t sit still, move, or even go decently insane.
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I heard an airplane passing overhead. I wished I was on it.
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I met a genius on the train today about 6 years old, he sat beside me and as the train ran down along the coast we came to the ocean and then he looked at me and said, it’s not pretty.
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I am this fiery snail crawling home.
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It's hot tonight and half the neighborhood is drunk. the other half is dead. if I have any advice about writing poetry it's - don't. I'm going to send out for some fried chicken.
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He asked, What makes a man a writer? Well, I said, it's simple. You either get it down on paper, or jump off a bridge.
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A man needed somebody. There wasn't anybody around, so you had to make up somebody, make him up to be like a man should be. It wasn't make-believe or cheating. The other way was make-believe and cheating: living your life without a man like him around.
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I see men assassinated around me every day. I walk through rooms of the dead, streets of the dead, cities of the dead men without eyes, men without voices men with manufactured feelings and standard reactions men with newspaper brains, television souls and high school ideas.
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