Dear child, I only did to you
what the sparrow
did to you; I am old when it is
fashionable to be young; I cry when it is
fashionable to laugh.
I hated you when it would have taken less courage to love.
Basically, that's why I wrote: to save my ass, to save my ass from the madhouse, from the streets, from myself.
Charles BukowskiStichwörter: writing salvation bukowski
Someday,” I told Jan, “when they demonstrate that the world has four dimensions instead of just three, a man will be able to go for a walk and just disappear. No burial, no tears, no illusions, no heaven or hell. People will be sitting around and they’ll say, ‘What happened to George?’ And somebody will say, ‘Well, I don’t know. He said he was going out for a pack of cigarettes.
Charles BukowskiThe trouble with these people is that their cities have never been bombed and their mothers have never been told to shut up.
Charles BukowskiWhy did I come here? I thought. Why is it always only a matter of choosing between something bad and something worse?
Charles BukowskiStichwörter: thought choices charles-bukowski ham-on-rye
Lydia came back to bed. We didn't kiss each other. We weren't going to have sex. I felt weary. I listened to the crickets. I don't know how much time went by. I was almost asleep, not quite, when Lydia suddenly sat straight up in bed. And she screamed. It was a loud scream. "What is it?" I asked. "Be quiet." I waited. Lydia sat there without moving, for what seemed to be about ten minutes. Then she fell back on her pillow. "I saw God," she said, "I just saw God." "Listen, you bitch, you are going to drive me crazy!
Charles BukowskiThere still might be a place for us somewhere.
Charles BukowskiI read my books at night, like that, under the quilt with the overheated reading lamp. Reading all those good lines while suffocating. It was magic.
Charles BukowskiStichwörter: ham-on-rye
Only the boring get bored
Charles BukowskiYour writing", she said to me, "it's so raw. It's like a sledgehammer, and yet it has humor and tenderness. . . .
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