Charles Bukowski
Charles Bukowski
Henry Charles Bukowskiwas an American poet, novelist, and short story writer...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth16 August 1920
CityAndernach, Germany
CountryUnited States of America
death country flower
There's nothing to mourn about death any more than there is to mourn about the growing of a flower. What is terrible is not death but the lives people live or don't live up until their death. They don't honor their own lives ... their minds are full of cotton. They swallow God without thinking, they swallow country without thinking. Soon they forget how to think, they let others think for them.... Most people's deaths are a sham. There's nothing left to die.
drunk want asks
If you want to know where God is, ask a drunk.
normal feels
I feel strangely normal.
mad sick bird
We waste days like mad blackbirds and pray for alcoholic nightsour silk-sick human smiles wrap around us like somebody else's confetti
pleasant
There's nothing else as pleasant as being unpleasant when there's nothing else to do, and there's usually nothing else to do.
cities sick sidewalk
I am too sick to lay down the sidewalks frighten me the whole damned city frightens me, what I will become what I have become frightens me.
wall writing failing
nothing can save you except writing. it keeps the walls from failing.
games i-can
My part of the game is that I must live the best I can.
writing simple people
People just don't know how to write down a simple easy line. It's difficult for them; it's like trying to keep a hard-on while drowning - not many can do it.
beautiful way desperate
She was desperate and she was choosey at the same time and, in a way, beautiful, but she didn't have quite enough going for her to become what she imagined herself to be.
stupid hard-work thinking
Existence was not only absurd, it was plain hard work. Think of how many times you put on your underwear in a lifetime. It was appalling, it was disgusting, it was stupid.
needs need-god
Those who preach god, need god Those who preach peace do not have peace Those who preach love do not have love
writing past lines
If you can't write the next line, well, you're dead. The past doesn't matter.
understanding realizing pleasure
Gradually I came to realize that my understanding of women goes only as far as the pleasure is concerned.