When you play the field selfishly everything works against you: one canโt insist on love or demand affection. youโre finally left with whatever you have been willing to give which often is: nothing.
Charles BukowskiThe problem was you had to keep choosing between one evil or another, and no matter what you chose, they sliced a little more off you, until there was nothing left. At the age of 25 most people were finished. A whole goddamned nation of assholes driving automobiles, eating, having babies, doing everything in the worst way possible, like voting for the presidential candidate who reminded them most of themselves.
Charles BukowskiA man needed somebody. There wasn't anybody around, so you had to make up somebody, make him up to be like a man should be. It wasn't make-believe or cheating. The other way was make-believe and cheating: living your life without a man like him around.
Charles Bukowski... to die on a kitchen floor at 7 o'clock in the morning while other people are frying eggs is not so rough unless it happens to you.
Charles BukowskiI will put on my shoes and shirt and get out of here - it'll be better for all of us.
Charles BukowskiThey, all of them, seemed to put literary form in front of the actuality and living of life itself.
Charles Bukowskii dunno," i said, "but i have an idea that people who don't think too much tend to look younger longer
Charles BukowskiAmerican 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.
Charles Bukowskiyoung or old, good or bad, I don't think anything dies as slow and as hard as a writer.
Charles BukowskiStyle is the answer to everything. A fresh way to approach a dull or dangerous thing
Charles Bukowskimy youth, one time, that time I knew even through the nothingness, it was a celebration of something not to do but only know.
Charles BukowskiI am ashamed to be a member of the human race but I don't want to add any more to that shame, I want to scrape a little of it off.
Charles BukowskiI see men assassinated around me every day. I walk through rooms of the dead, streets of the dead, cities of the dead; men without eyes, men without voices; men with manufactured feelings and standard reactions; men with newspaper brains, television souls and high school ideas.
Charles BukowskiThe problem was you had to keep choosing between one evil or another, and no matter what you chose, they sliced a little bit more off you, until there was nothing left.
Charles BukowskiI met a genius on the train today about 6 years old, he sat beside me and as the train ran down along the coast we came to the ocean and then he looked at me and said, itโs not pretty.
Charles BukowskiI didn't like parties.I didn't know how to dance and people frightened me, especially people at parties. They attempted to be sexy and gay and witty and although they hoped they were good at it, they weren 't. They were bad at it. Their trying so hard only made it worse.
Charles BukowskiI think that the world should be full of cats and full of rain, that's all, just cats and rain, rain and cats, very nice, good night.
Charles Bukowskilife itself is not the miracle. that pain should be so constant, that's the miracle -
Charles BukowskiI wasnโt going anywhere and neither was the rest of the world. We were all just hanging around waiting to die and meanwhile doing little things to fill the space. Some of use werenโt even doing little things. We were vegetables.
Charles BukowskiEach man's hell is in a different place: mine is just up and behind my ruined face.
Charles BukowskiI had decided against religion a couple of years back. If it were true, it made fools out of people, or it drew fools. And if it weren't true, the fools were all the more foolish. What I need is a good doctor, I thought. You either lived or died.
Charles BukowskiI once lay in a white hospital for the dying and the dying self, where some god pissed a rain of reason to make things grow only to die, where on my knees I prayed for LIGHT, I prayed for l*i*g*h*t, and praying crawled like a blind slug into the web where threads of wind stuck against my mind and I died of pity for Man, for myself, on a cross without nails, watching in fear as the pig belches in his sty, farts, blinks and eats.
Charles Bukowskisoon I'll finish this 5th of Puerto Rican rum. in the morning I'll vomit and shower, drive back in, have a sandwich by 1 p.m., be back in my room by 2, stretched on the bed, waiting for the phone to ring, not answering, my holiday is an evasion, mt reasoning is not.
Charles Bukowski