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
eye brain staring
There are times when those eyes inside your brain stare back at you.
soul mind intellectual
Some lose all mind and become soul,insane. some lose all soul and become mind, intellectual. some lose both and become accepted
hangover drinking night
I like to change liquor stores frequently because the clerks got to know your habits if you went in night and day and bought huge quantities. I could feel them wondering why I wasn't dead yet and it made me uncomfortable. They probably weren't thinking any such thing, but then a man gets paranoid when he has 300 hangovers a year.
pain book reading
It was a joy! Words weren't dull, words were things that could make your mind hum. If you read them and let yourself feel the magic, you could live without pain, with hope, no matter what happened to you.
mad rich-poor poverty
I had noticed that both in the very poor and very rich extremes of society the mad were often allowed to mingle freely.
hate sometimes said
sometimes I hate you," she said.
thinking race mercy
mercy, I think, doesn't the human race know anything about mercy?
dog angel
dogs and angels are not very far apart
morning alive stills
In the morning it was morning and I was still alive.
fighting trying way
If you are going to try, go all the way or don't even start. If you follow it you will be alive with the gods. It is the only good fight there is.
friendship jail interesting
If you want to know who your friends are, get yourself a jail sentence.
sweet mistake night
I only want sweet peace and kindliness when I awaken -- but there's always some finger pointing, telling me some terrible deed I committed during the night. It seems I make a lot of mistakes and it seems that I am not allowed any.
should-have rose waiting
We are like roses that have never bothered to bloom when we should have bloomed and it is as if the sun has become disgusted with waiting
space misanthrope drink
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.