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WHEN YOU LEAVE YOUR TYPEWRITER YOU LEAVE YOUR MACHINE GUN AND THE RATS COME POURING THROUGH.

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
Rats
Machine
Gun
Machines
Leave
Come
Typewriter
Writing
Typewriters
Pouring

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And there I was, 225 pounds, perpetually lost and confused, short legs, ape-like upper body, all chest, no neck, head too large, blurred eyes, hair uncombed, 6 feet of geek, waiting for her.
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There still might be a place for us somewhere.
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Why do we embroider everything we say with special emphasis when all we really need to do is simply say what needs to he said? Of course the fact is that there is very little that needs to be said.
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purple does something strange to me
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My ambition is handicapped by laziness
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we sat there smoking cigarettes at 5 in the morning.
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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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If I hadn't been a drunkard, I probably would have committed suicide long ago.
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my hands dead my heart dead silence adagio of rocks the world ablaze that's the best for me.
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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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I felt I had to win. It seemed very important. I didn't know why it was important and I kept thinking, why do I think this is so important? And another part of me answered, just because it is.
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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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The streets were full of insane & dull people. Most of them lived in nice houses and didn't seem to work, and you wondered how they did it.
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If you want to know who your friends are, get yourself a jail sentence.
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it seemed to me that I had never met another person on earth as discouraging to my happiness as my father. and it appeared that I had the same effect upon him.
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It was a joy! Words weren't dull, words were things that could make your mind hum. If you read them and let yourself feel the magic, you could live without pain, with hope, no matter what happened to you.
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and getting dressed we talk about what else there might be to do, but being together solves most of it, in fact, solves all of it
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I take much pleasure in being alone but there is also a strange warm grace in not being alone.
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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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I went over to see Marina two or three or four times a week. I knew as long as I could see the girl I would be all right…. Soon after, I got a letter from Fay. She and the child were living in a hippie commune in New Mexico. It was a nice place, she said. Marina would be able to breathe there. She enclosed a little drawing the girl had made for me.
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