They have no idea that it can be done by a bus driver, a field hand, or a fry cook. They have no idea where it comes from. It comes from pain, damnation and impossibility. The blow to the soul of the gut. It comes from getting burned and seared and slugged. It comes from...new and awful places and the same old places.
Charles BukowskiBeauty is nothing, beauty wonโt stay. You donโt know how lucky you are to be ugly, because if people like you, you know itโs for something else.
Charles BukowskiWhen I get down to my last dime I'll just walk over to skid row." "There are some real weirdos down there." "They're everywhere.
Charles Bukowski