Posts tagged charles bukowski.

What they wanted I didn’t have and what I had they didn’t want.

It’s All So Clearly Simple - Charles Bukowski

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

  05/30/12 at 09:50am

Sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think, I’m not going to make it, but you laugh inside — remembering all the times you’ve felt that way.

Charles Bukowski 
  05/28/12 at 04:19am

This is very important – to take leisure time. Pace is the essence. Without stopping entirely and doing nothing at all for great periods, you’re gonna lose everything, just to do nothing at all. And how many people do this in modern society? Very few. That’s why they’re all totally mad, frustrated, angry and hateful.

Charles Bukowski 

(via causetimeneverwaits)

  05/27/12 at 02:58pm

Alone tonight in this house, alone with six cats who tell me without effort all that there is to know.

Charles Bukowski; Warm Light

(via henrycharlesbukowski)

  05/27/12 at 12:30am

Everybody was screwed. There were no winners. There were only apparent winners. We were all chasing after a lot of nothing. Day after day.

But all in all it was a fairly horrible world and I felt sad, often, for most of the people in it.

Charles Bukowski 

(via henrycharlesbukowski)

I detested that type of swinging… Strangers when you meet, strangers when you part - a gymnasium of bodies namelessly masturbating each other. People with no morals often considered themselves more free, but mostly they lacked the ability to feel or to love. So they became swingers. The dead fucking the dead. There was no gamble or humor in their game - it was corpse fucking corpse.

Charles Bukowski; Women, 1978

(via henrycharlesbukowski)

  05/25/12 at 02:21am

(via henrycharlesbukowski)

I wanted the whole world or nothing.

Post Office - Charles Bukowski