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If there are junk yards in hell, love is the dog that guards the gates.
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
Junk
Yards
Gates
Dog
Hell
Love
Guards
More quotes by Charles Bukowski
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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there is always one woman to save you from another and as that woman saves you she makes ready to destroy
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since some people had told me that I was ugly, I always preferred shade to the sun, darkness to light
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You are thirty minutes late. Yes. Would you be thirty minutes late to a wedding or a funeral? No. Why not, pray tell? Well, if the funeral was mine I'd have to be on time. If the wedding was mine it would be my funeral.
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I don't like jail, they got the wrong kind of bars in there.
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we had such tremendous fun and much agony together for some years
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The years have gone by quickly. Death sits in the seat next to me. We make a lovely couple.
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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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I was drawn to all the wrong things: I liked to drink, I was lazy, I didn't have a god, politics, ideas, ideals.
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I feel strangely normal.
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I have loved you woman as surely as I have named you rust and sand and nylon.
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The nine-to-five is one of the greatest atrocities sprung upon mankind. You give your life to a function that doesn't interest you. This situation so repelled me that I was driven to drink, starvation, and mad females, simply as an alternative.
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That's what friendship means: sharing the prejudice of experience.
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I've never been lonely. I like myself. I'm the best form of entertainment I have. Let's drink more wine!
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dogs and angels are not very far apart
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The problem was you had to keep choosing between one evil or another, and no matter what you chose, they sliced a little bit more off you, until there was nothing left.
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The human heart, as of course we all know is essentially good
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It didn't pay to trust another human being. Humans didn't have it, whatever it took.
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I never pump up my vulgarity. I wait for it to arrive in its own terms.
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Pain is strange. A cat killing a bird, a car accident, a fire.... Pain arrives, BANG, and there it is, it sits on you. It's real. And to anybody watching, you look foolish. Like you've suddenly become an idiot. There's no cure for it unless you know somebody who understands how you feel, and knows how to help.
Charles Bukowski