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You've got to know when to let a woman go if you want to keep her,and if you don't want to keep her you let her go anyhow so it's always a process of letting go, one way or the other.
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
Letting
Woman
Process
Keep
Way
Always
Anyhow
More quotes by Charles Bukowski
If you can only remain pure in your stupidity, someday you may get a phone call from hell.
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You can steal my women but don't play with my whiskey.
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I am not like other people. I am burning in hell. The hell of myself.
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the beautiful are found in the edge of a room crumpled into spiders and needles and silence and we can never understand why they left,they were so beautiful. they dont make it, the beautiful die young and leave the ugly to their ugly lives.
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Belane, are you nuts? Who knows? Insanity is comparative. Who sets the norm?
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That's how it is with books, isn't it: They're not in a hurry. They'll wait for you till you're ready. People empty me. I have to go away to refill.
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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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dogs and angels are not very far apart
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one more creature dizzy with love
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I tell you such fine music waits in the shadows of hell.
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There is only one place to write and that is alone at a typewriter. The writer who has to go into the streets is a writer who does not know the streets. . . when you leave your typewriter you leave your machine gun and the rats come pouring through.
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one can never be sure whether it's good poetry or bad acid
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I stopped looking for a Dream Girl, I just wanted one that wasn't a nightmare.
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i was born to hustle roses down the avenue of the dead.
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there are policemen in the street and angels in the clouds
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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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agony sometimes changes form but it never ceases for anybody.
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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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I knew I was strong, and maybe like they said, crazy. But I had this feeling inside of me that something real was there.
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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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