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You can steal my women but don't play with my whiskey.

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
Stealing
Women
Play
Whiskey
Steal

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People with no morals often considered themselves more free, but mostly they lacked the ability to feel or love.
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the grace is being able to like rock music, symphony music, jazz … anything that contains the original energy of joy.
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It was only the matter of a new voice. Nobody listened to an old voice anymore. Old voices became a part of one's self, like a fingernail.
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nothing can save you except writing. it keeps the walls from failing.
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Keep your money in your pocket. Or bet it on a good horse.
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Never trust a man in a jumpsuit
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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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How are his poems? He's not as good as he thinks he is, but then most of us feel that way.
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Fay had a spot of blood on the left side of her mouth and I took a wet cloth and wiped it off. Women were meant to suffer no wonder they asked for constant declarations of love.
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if you think they didn't go crazy in tiny rooms just like you're doing now without women without food without hope then you're not ready.
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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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That's what friendship means: sharing the prejudice of experience.
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A spark can set a whole forest on fire. Just a spark. Save it.
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It was too much. The comfortable people made comfortable jokes about weather and things but I sat mostly silent saying a word or so when necessary a word or so trying to hide from them the fact that I was a fool and feeling terrible And I was numb, numb again, numb again again and again, numbness and pain swelling in me.
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I wasn't a misanthrope and I wasn't a misogynist but I liked being alone. It felt good to sit alone in a small space and smoke and drink. I had always been good company for myself.
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...having nothing to struggle against they have nothing to struggle for.
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Love dries up, I thought as I walked back to the bathroom, even faster than sperm.
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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've never met another man I'd rather be.
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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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