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If I stop writing I am dead. And that's the only way I'll stop: dead.
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
Dead
Stop
Writing
Way
More quotes by Charles Bukowski
If I hadn't been a drunkard, I probably would have committed suicide long ago.
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If you want to create, you'll create.
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Sundays kill more people than bombs.
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There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I'm not going to let anybody see you.
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Bullfighting can be an art Boxing can be an art Loving can be an art Opening a can of sardines can be an art
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I write as a function. Without it I would fall ill and die. It's as much a part of one as the liver or intestine, and just about as glamorous.
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All our days are marked with/ unexpected/ affronts--some/ disastrous, others/ less so/ but the process is/ wearing and/ continuous./ Attrition rules./ Most give/ way/ leaving/ empty spaces/ where people should/ be.
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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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It's better to do a dull thing with style than a dangerous thing without it.
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There's a light somewhere. It may not be much light but it beats the darkness.
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In New York you've got to have all the luck.
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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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I sit here drunk now. I am a series of small victories and large defeats and I am as amazed as any other that I have gotten from there to here without committing murder or being murdered without having ended up in the madhouse. as I drink alone again tonight my soul despite all the past agony thanks all the gods who were not there for me then.
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I'll use the knives for spreading jam, and the gas to warm my greying love.
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I don't think I'll travel anymore. Travel is nothing but an inconvenience. There is always enough trouble where you are.
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That's your response to everything: drink? No, that's my response to nothing.
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I never understood society. i undersand that it works somehow and that it functions as a reality and that its realities are necessary to keep us from worse realities. but all i sense are that are plenty of police and jails and judges and laws and that what is meant to protect me is breaking me down.
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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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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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nobody can save you but yourself. you will be put again and again into nearly impossible situations. they will attempt again and again through subterfuge, guise and force to make you submit, quit and/or die quietly inside. nobody can save you but yourself
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