Bukowski Quotes

Bukowski Quote of the day

Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?

I guess the only time most people think about injustice is when it happens to them.

We don’t even ask happiness, just a little less pain.

If you have the ability to love, love yourself first.

If I bet on humanity, I'd never cash a ticket.

Why did I come here? I thought. Why is it always only a matter of choosing between something bad and something worse?

My heart is a thousand years old. I am not like other people.

I often stood in front of the mirror alone, wondering how ugly a person could get.

I have one problem, I don’t hate people. They disgust me and I want to get away from them. I do not have hatred. I have an escape mechanism.

Her one drink had Cecelia giggling and talking and she was explaining that animals had souls too. Nobody challenged her opinion. It was possible, we knew. What we weren't sure of was if we had any.

the price of creationis nevertoo high.the price of livingwith other peoplealwaysis.

there's no clarity.there was never meant to be clarity.

I know that some nightin some bedroomsoonmy fingers willriftthroughsoft cleanhairsongs such as no radioplaysall sadness, grinninginto flow.

sometimes all we need to be able to continue aloneare the deadrattling the wallsthat close us in.

The centuries are sprinkled with rare magicwith divine creatureswho help us get past the common and extraordinary ills that beset us

there are so many dayswhen living stops and pulls up and sitsand waits like a train on the rails.

the world is better withoutthem.only the plants and the animals aretrue comrades.I drink to them and withthem.

I am sick with caring.

and love is a word usedtoo much andmuchtoo soon.

regret is mostly caused by not havingdone anything.

sometimes it's hard to knowwhat todo.

I found the best thingI could dowas just to type awayat my own workand let the dyingdieas they always have.

one doesn't even think ofthe liverand if the liverdoesn't think ofus, that'sfine.

when I drive the freeways I see the soul of humanity ofmy city and it's ugly, ugly, ugly: the living have choked theheartaway.

I didn't know who tobelievebutone thing I doknow: when a man islivingmany claim relationshipsthat are hardlysoand after he dies, well, then it's everybody'sparty.

wesat theresmokingcigarettesat5in the morning.

as the shadows assumeshapesI fight the slowretreatnowmy once-promisedwindlingdwindlingnowlighting new cigarettespouring moredrinksit has been a beautifulfightstillis.

Are there good governments and bad governments? No, there are only bad governments and worse governments.

How are his poems?""He's not as good as he thinks he is, but then most of us feel that way.

no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as hopeless and as numbed as yours.

The problem with the world is that the intelligent people are full of doubts while the stupid one are full of confidence".

Genius could be the ability to say a profound thing in a simple way, or even to say a simple thing in a simpler way.

peace of mind and heartarriveswhen we accept what is:having beenborn into thisstrange lifewe must acceptthe wasted gamble of ourdaysand take some satisfaction inthe pleasure ofleaving it allbehind.

the best part waspulling down theshadesstuffing the doorbellwith ragsputting the phonein therefrigeratorand going to bedfor 3 or 4days. and the next bestpartwasnobody evermissedme.

that your power of commandwith simple language wasone of the magnificent things ofour century.(from the poem: result)

some moments are nice, some arenicer, some are even worthwritingabout.

having nothing to struggleagainstthey have nothing to strugglefor.

the gods play nofavorites.

the gods seldomgivebut so quicklytake.

she slammed the door andwas gone.I looked at the closed doorand at the doorknoband strangelyI didn't feelalone.

the worst thing, " he told me, "is bitterness, people end up sobitter.

I see a brightportionunder the overhead lightthat shades intodarknessand then into darkerdarknessand I can't see beyond that.

La mayoría de la muerte de la gente es una farsa, no queda en ellos nada que pueda morir

I believe that to be the world's greatest livingwriterthere must be somethingterribly wrong with you.I don't even want to be the world's greatestdead writer.just being dead would be fairenough.

I paid, got up, walkedto the door, openedit.I heard the mansay, "that guy'snuts."out on the street Iwalked northfeelingcuriouslyhonored.

Sometimes things are just what they seem to be and that's all there is to it.

I do think that poetry is important though, if you don’t strive at it, if you don’t fill it full of stars and falseness.

where some god pissed a rain of reason to make things grow only to die,

she wasn't veryinterestingbut few peopleare.

I remember yoursaying: "make itor break it."neither happened anditwon't.