Quote

Human relationships are strange. I mean, you are with one person a while, eating and sleeping and living with them, loving them, talking to them, going places together, and then it stops.

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
Living
Sleeping
Together
Relationships
Persons
Loving
Person
Places
Human
Eating
Humans
Strange
Mean
Sleep
Going
Talking
Stops

More quotes by Charles Bukowski

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Love is a form of prejudice. I have too many other prejudices.
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when I was a boy I used to dream of becoming the village idiot. I used to lie in bed and imagine myself the happy idiot able to get food easily ...and easy sympathy, a planned confusion of not too much love or effort. some would claim that I have succeeded.
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Not everybody thought they could be a dentist or an automobile mechanic but everybody knew they could be a writer.
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Sexual intercourse is kicking death in the ass while singing.
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t was almost disappointing because it seemed when stress and madness were eliminated from my daily life there wasn't much left you could depend on.
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Cautiously, I allowed myself to feel good at times. I found moments of peace in cheap rooms just staring at the knobs of some dresser or listening to the rain in the dark. The less I needed the better I felt.
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To create art means to be crazy alone forever.
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morning night and noon the traffic moves through and the murder and treachery of friends and lovers and all the people move through you. pain is the joy of knowing the unkindest truth that arrives without warning. life is being alone death is being alone. even the fools weep morning night and noon.
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American women drove hard bargains and the ended up looking the worst for it. The few natural American women left were mostly in Texas and Louisiana.
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I still have a little whiskey left and therefore a chance.
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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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as the shadows assume shapes I fight the slow retreat now my once-promise dwindling dwindling now lighting new cigarettes pouring more drinks it has been a beautiful fight still is.
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There's a light somewhere. It may not be much light but it beats the darkness.
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I will remember the kisses, our lips raw with love, and how you gave me everything you had and how I offered you what was left of me.
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I could read the great books but the great books don't interest me.
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An early taste of death is not necessarily a bad thing.
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Never get out of bed before noon.
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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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Sundays kill more people than bombs.
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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?
Charles Bukowski