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Charles Bukowski Quotes - Page 29

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I went home each night dizzy and sick. He was murdering me with the sound of his voice.

I went home each night dizzy and sick. He was murdering me with the sound of his voice.

Charles Bukowski
Home, Night, Voice

When I'm drinking around people, I tend to get silly or pugnacious or wild, which can cause problems.

Charles Bukowski
Drinking, Silly, People
Charles Bukowski (2003). “Sunlight Here I Am: Interviews and Encounters, 1963-1993”

I have loved you woman as surely as I have named you rust and sand and nylon.

Charles Bukowski
Nylon, Rust, Sand

we drove on and on, past little villages and both good things and bad things were happening to the people in those villages too, but I still was nothing but arms and ears and eyes and maybe there'd be either some good luck for me or more death tomorrow.

Charles Bukowski
Good Luck, Eye, Past

I broke that town in half like a wooden match.

Charles Bukowski
Half, Towns, Broke

why don't we go back out there and tell them what happened? because nothing happened except that everybody has been driven insane and stupid by life. in this society there are only two things that count: don't be caught without money and don't get caught high on any kind of high. (Night Streets of Madness)

Charles Bukowski
Stupid, Night, Two
Charles Bukowski (1972). “Erections, ejaculations, exhibitions, and general tales of ordinary madness”

Let' em learn or let' em die

Charles Bukowski
Ems, Dies

there are policemen in the street and angels in the clouds

Charles Bukowski
Angel, Clouds, Streets

I hid in bars, because I didn't want to hide in factories.

Charles Bukowski
Loneliness, Drinking, Bars
Charles Bukowski (2003). “Sunlight Here I Am: Interviews and Encounters, 1963-1993”

Humanity, you never had it from the beginning." That was my motto.

Charles Bukowski
Humanity, Motto, My Motto
Charles Bukowski (2007). “Women”, Ecco

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 Bukowski
Reading, People, Dry
Charles Bukowski (2007). “Women”, Ecco

Of course, there would always be arguments. That is the nature of Woman. They like the mutual exchange of dirty laundry, a bit of screaming, a bit of dramatics. Then an exchange of vows.

Charles Bukowski
Dirty, Argument, Laundry

The writer has no responsibility other than to jack off in bed alone and write a good page.

Charles Bukowski
Writing, Responsibility, Bed

One more drink and you're dead. This is no way to talk to a suicide head.

Charles Bukowski
Suicide, Way, Drink
Charles Bukowski (2013). “Notes of a Dirty Old Man”, p.92, City Lights Books

my youth, one time, that time I knew even through the nothingness, it was a celebration of something not to do but only know.

Charles Bukowski
Youth, Celebration, One Time

don't be ashamed of anything; I guess God meant it all like locks on doors.

Charles Bukowski
Doors, Locks, Ashamed

take a writer away from his typewriter and all you have left is the sickness which started him typing in the beginning

Charles Bukowski
Typewriters, Chaos, Sickness

terror finally becomes almost bearable but never quite terror creeps like a cat crawls like a cat across my mind

Charles Bukowski
Cat, Mind, Creeps

there's no clarity. there was never meant to be clarity.

Charles Bukowski
Clarity, Meant To Be

It's hot tonight and half the neighborhood is drunk. the other half is dead. if I have any advice about writing poetry it's - don't. I'm going to send out for some fried chicken.

Charles Bukowski
Writing, Drunk, Advice

I had no Freedom. I had nothing.

Charles Bukowski

and then there are some who believe that old relationships can be revived and made new again. but please if you feel that way don't phone don't write don't arrive

Charles Bukowski
Believe, Writing, Phones
Charles Bukowski (2007). “Come On In!: New Poems”, p.90, Canongate Books

All our days are marked with/ unexpected/ affronts--some/ disastrous, others/ less so/ but the process is/ wearing and/ continuous./ Attrition rules./ Most give/ way/ leaving/ empty spaces/ where people should/ be.

Charles Bukowski
Space, People, Giving

I have seen too many men wilt and go silly under a little light, and then they continue to write and get published, turning out pure crap under a name that has become a bad habit. The next poem is all that counts. You can't stand on past poems.

Charles Bukowski
Silly, Writing, Men

Lawyers, doctors, plumbers, they all made the money. Writers? Writers starved. Writers suicided. Writers went mad.

Charles Bukowski
Doctors, Mad, Lawyer

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