As a recluse I couldn't bear traffic. It had nothing to do with jealousy, I simply disliked people, crowds, anywhere, except at my readings. People diminished me, they sucked me dry.
Charles BukowskiOh, I donโt mean youโre handsome, not the way people think of handsome. Your face seems kind. But your eyes - theyโre beautiful. Theyโre wild, crazy, like some animal peering out of a forest on fire.
Charles Bukowskimy mother, poor fish, wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times a week, telling me to be happy: "Henry, smile! why don't you ever smile?" and then she would smile, to show me how, and it was the saddest smile I ever saw
Charles Bukowski