This incompleteness is all we have. Charles Bukowski More Quotes by Charles Bukowski More Quotes From Charles Bukowski I got lost somehow, began staring up her legs. I was always a leg man. It was the first thing I saw when I was born. But then I was trying to get out. Ever since I have been working in the other direction and with pretty lousy luck. Charles Bukowski luck trying men Love breaks my bones and I laugh Charles Bukowski bones break laughing The difference between a brave man and a coward is a coward thinks twice before jumping in the cage with a lion. The brave man doesn't know what a lion is. He just thinks he does. Charles Bukowski jumping men thinking I loved you like a man loves a woman he never touches, only writes to, keeps little photographs of. Charles Bukowski writing love romantic the tired sunsets and the tired people - it takes a lifetime to die and no time at all. Charles Bukowski sunset tired people To not to have entirely wasted one’s life seems to be a worthy accomplishment, if only for myself. Charles Bukowski worthy accomplishment seems Sundays kill more people than bombs. Charles Bukowski bombs sunday people God knows I am not too hippy. Perhaps because I am too much around the hip and I fear fads for, like anybody else, I like something that tends to last. Charles Bukowski fads lasts too-much I had noticed that both in the very poor and very rich extremes of society the mad were often allowed to mingle freely. Charles Bukowski rich-poor poverty mad I was glad I wasn't in love, that I wasn't happy with the world. I like being at odds with everything. People in love often become edgy, dangerous. They lose their sense of perspective. They lose their sense of humor. They become nervous, psychotic bores. They even become killers. Charles Bukowski perspective odds people New Year's Eve always terrifies me. Charles Bukowski new-years-eve new-year years You can forgive a fool because he only runs in one direction and doesn't deceive anybody. It's the deceivers who make you feel bad. Charles Bukowski forgiveness running cheating Thanksgiving. It proved you had survived another year with its wars, inflation, unemployment, smog, presidents. It was a grand neurotic gathering of clans: loud drunks, grandmothers, sisters, aunts, screaming children, would-be suicides. And don't forget indigestion. I wasn't different from anyone else: There sat the 18-pound bird on my sink, dead, plucked, totally disemboweled. Iris would roast it for me. Charles Bukowski thanksgiving suicide children you are on the freeway threading through traffic now, moving both towards something and towards nothing at all as you punch the radio on and get Mozart, which is something, and you will somehow get through the slow days and the busy days and the dull days and the hateful days and the rare days, all both so delightful and so disappointing because we are all so alike and so different. Charles Bukowski dull-days different moving nothing can save you except writing. it keeps the walls from failing. Charles Bukowski wall failing writing Without literature, life is hell. Charles Bukowski hell literature life-is I was a man who thrived on solitude; without it I was like another man without food or water. Each day without solitude weakened me. I took no pride in my solitude; but I was dependent on it. The darkness of the room was like sunlight to me. Charles Bukowski loneliness pride men When you clean up a city, you destroy it. Charles Bukowski clean cities My heart is a thousand years old. I am not like other people. Charles Bukowski heart people years Animals never worry about Heaven or Hell. Neither do I. Maybe that's why we get along. Charles Bukowski owning-a-pet worry animal
