she knew what she wanted and it wasn't / me. / I know more women like that than any / other kind. Charles Bukowski More Quotes by Charles Bukowski More Quotes From Charles Bukowski i am with the roots of flowers entwined, entombed sending up my passionate blossoms as a flight of rockets and argument; wine churls my throat, above me feet walk upon my brain, monkies fall from the sky clutching photographs of the planets, but i seek only music and the leisure of my pain Charles Bukowski painflowerfall Never envy a man his lady. Behind it all lays a living hell. Charles Bukowski envyhellmen as a child i suppose i was not quite normal. my happiest times were when i was left alone in the house on a saturday. Charles Bukowski normalhousechildren I didn't have any friends at school, didn't want any. I felt better being alone. I sat on a bench and watched the others play and they looked foolish to me. Charles Bukowski benchesplayschool If there are junk yards in hell, love is the dog that guards the gates. Charles Bukowski junkdoglove-is The night kept coming on in and there was nothing I could do. Charles Bukowski night We’ve died so many times now that we can only wonder why we still care. Charles Bukowski carestillswonder If you want to know where God is, ask a drunk. Charles Bukowski drunkknowswant I wish to weep but sorrow is stupid. I wish to believe but belief is a graveyard. Charles Bukowski sadstupidbelieve Why did I come here? I thought. Why is it always only a matter of choosing between something bad and something worse? Charles Bukowski matter I have no time for things that have no soul. Charles Bukowski ordinary-worldunderstand-mesoul I felt I had to win. It seemed very important. I didn't know why it was important and I kept thinking, why do I think this is so important? And another part of me answered, just because it is. Charles Bukowski importantwinningthinking If I bet on humanity, I'd never cash a ticket. Charles Bukowski ticketscashhumanity ..few writers like other writers' works. The only time they like them is when they are dead or if they have been for a long time. Writers only like to sniff their own turds. I am one of those. I don't even like to talk to writers, look at them or worse, listen to them. And the worst is to drink with them, they slobber all over themselves, really look piteous, look like they are searching for the wing of the mother. I'd rather think about death than about other writers. Far more pleasant. Charles Bukowski motherwingsthinking pain is absurd because it exists, nothing more. Charles Bukowski absurdpain I think that everything should be made available to everybody, and I mean LSD, cocaine, codeine, grass, opium, the works. Nothing on earth available to any man should be confiscated and made unlawful by other men in more seemingly powerful and advantageous positions. Charles Bukowski powerfulfunnymean ...maybe a damned good night's sleep will bring me back to a gentle sanity. But at the moment, I look about this room and, like myself, it's all in disarray: things fallen out of place, cluttered, jumbled, lost, knocked over and I can't put it straight, don't want to. Perhaps living through these petty days will get us ready for the dangerous ones. Charles Bukowski good-nightsleeplooks Most people's deaths are a sham. There's nothing left to die. Charles Bukowski leftdiespeople If you let them kill you, they will Charles Bukowski ifs I am a series of small victories and large defeats. Charles Bukowski small-victoriesdefeatvictory
