It is possible to be truly mad and to still exist upon scraps of life. Charles Bukowski More Quotes by Charles Bukowski More Quotes From Charles Bukowski The crazy ones only laugh when there is no reason to laugh. Charles Bukowski crazy reason laughing Beware of those who seek constant crowds; they are nothing alone. Charles Bukowski introvert crowds constant Love is kind of like when you see a fog in the morning, when you wake up before the sun comes out. It's just a little while, and then it burns away... Love is a fog that burns with the first daylight of reality. Charles Bukowski morning love reality My dear, Find what you love and let it kill you. Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness. Let it kill you and let it devour your remains. For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it’s much better to be killed by a lover. ~ Falsely yours Charles Bukowski drains love death I stopped looking for a Dream Girl, I just wanted one that wasn't a nightmare. Charles Bukowski nightmare girl dream If I never see you again I will always carry you inside outside on my fingertips and at brain edges and in centers centers of what I am of what remains. Charles Bukowski fingertips you-again brain An artist is a man who says a difficult thing in a simple way Charles Bukowski simple men art Are people crazy? People waited all their lives. They waited to live, they waited to die. They waited in line to buy toilet paper. They waited in line for money. And if they didn't have any money they waited in longer lines. You waited to go to sleep and then you waited to awaken. You waited to get married and you waited to get divorced. You waited for it to rain, you waited for it to stop. You waited to eat and then you waited to eat again. You waited in a shrink's office with a bunch of psychos and you wondered if you were one. Charles Bukowski crazy rain sleep To create art means to be crazy alone forever. Charles Bukowski crazy mean art There's nothing to stop a man from writing unless that man stops himself. If a man truly desires to write, then he will. Rejection and ridicule will only strengthen him. And the longer he is held back the stronger he will become, like a mass of rising water against a dam. There is no losing in writing, it will make your toes laugh as you sleep, it will make you stride like a tiger, it will fire the eye and put you face to face with death. You will die a fighter, you will be honored in hell. The luck of the word. Go with it, send it. Charles Bukowski eye sleep writing If you're losing your soul and you know it, then you've still got a soul left to lose. Charles Bukowski sunset thought-provoking life I couldn't get myself to read the want ads. The thought of sitting in front of a man behind a desk and telling him that I wanted a job, that I was qualified for a job, was too much for me. Frankly, I was horrified by life, at what a man had to do simply in order to eat, sleep, and keep himself clothed. So I stayed in bed and drank. When you drank the world was still out there, but for the moment it didn't have you by the throat. Charles Bukowski drinking work jobs In my next life I want to be a cat. To sleep 20 hours a day and wait to be fed. To sit around licking my ass. Charles Bukowski cat waiting sleep I am not a snob; it is simply that I am not interested with what most people have to say, or what they want to do — mostly with my time. Charles Bukowski not-interested want people If you're going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It's the only good fight there is. Charles Bukowski laughter fighting night Slavery was never abolished, it was only extended to include all the colors. Charles Bukowski slavery color If you have the ability to love, love yourself first. Charles Bukowski ability-to-love love-yourself firsts Any asshole can chase a skirt, art takes discipline. Charles Bukowski skirts discipline art as the spirit wanes the form appears Charles Bukowski form spirit "she’ mad but she’ magic. there’ no lie in her fire. Charles Bukowski mad fire lying
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