young or old, good or bad, I don't think anything dies as slow and as hard as a writer. Charles Bukowski More Quotes by Charles Bukowski More Quotes From Charles Bukowski Understand me. I’m not like an ordinary world. I have my madness, I live in another dimension and I do not have time for things that have no soul. Charles Bukowski ordinary-world dimensions soul Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be? Charles Bukowski life-and-love being-yourself inspirational Don't fight your demons. Your demons are here to teach you lessons. Sit down with your demons and have a drink and a chat and learn their names and talk about the burns on their fingers and scratches on their ankles. Some of them are very nice. Charles Bukowski nice fighting names The problem with the world is that the intelligent people are full of doubts, while the stupid ones are full of confidence. Charles Bukowski confidence stupid faith Wherever the crowd goes run in the other direction. They're always wrong. Charles Bukowski always-wrong crowds running If you're going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don't even start. Charles Bukowski valuable-life trying way Simplicity is always the secret, to a profound truth, to doing things, to writing, to painting. Life is profound in its simplicity Charles Bukowski simplicity writing profound People are strange: They are constantly angered by trivial things, but on a major matter like totally wasting their lives, they hardly seem to notice. Charles Bukowski anger life people The wisest thing to do if you’re living in hell is to make yourself comfortable. Charles Bukowski things-to-do hell ifs You have to die a few times before you can really live. Charles Bukowski inspirational life death Almost everybody is born a genius and buried an idiot. Charles Bukowski thought-provoking genius life The problem was you had to keep choosing between one evil or another, and no matter what you chose, they sliced a little more off you, until there was nothing left. At the age of 25 most people were finished. A whole goddamned nation of assholes driving automobiles, eating, having babies, doing everything in the worst way possible, like voting for the presidential candidate who reminded them most of themselves. Charles Bukowski evil baby people the free soul is rare, but you know it when you see it - basically because you feel good, very good, when you are near or with them. Charles Bukowski feel-good soul inspirational I will remember the kisses our lips raw with love and how you gave me everything you had and how I offered you what was left of me, and I will remember your small room the feel of you the light in the window your records your books our morning coffee our noons our nights our bodies spilled together sleeping the tiny flowing currents immediate and forever your leg my leg your arm my arm your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again. Charles Bukowski inspirational-love coffee morning If something burns your soul with purpose and desire, it’s your duty to be reduced to ashes by it. Any other form of existence will be yet another dull book in the library of life. Charles Bukowski soul desire book We're all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing. Charles Bukowski novelists love death I am not like Charles Bukowski burning hell people The difference between a democracy and a dictatorship is that in a democracy you vote first and take orders later; in a dictatorship you don't have to waste your time voting. Charles Bukowski trust differences order I lapsed into my pathetic cut-off period. Often with humans, both good and bad, my senses simply shut off, they get tired, I give up. I am polite. I nod. I pretend to understand because I don’t want anybody to be hurt. That is the one weakness that has lead me into the most trouble. Trying to be kind to others I often get my soul shredded into a kind of spiritual pasta. No matter. My brain shuts off. I listen. I respond. And they are too dumb to know that I am not there. Charles Bukowski giving-up hurt spiritual and when love came to us twice and lied to us twice we decided to never love again that was fair fair to us and fair to love itself. we ask for no mercy or no miracles; we are strong enough to live and to die and to kill flies, attend the boxing matches, go to the racetrack, live on luck and skill, get alone, get alone often, and if you can't sleep alone be careful of the words you speak in your sleep; and ask for no mercy no miracles; and don't forget: time is meant to be wasted, love fails and death is useless. Charles Bukowski skills strong sleep
