There is only one place to write and that is alone at a typewriter. The writer who has to go into the streets is a writer who does not know the streets. . . when you leave your typewriter you leave your machine gun and the rats come pouring through.
Charles BukowskiHer 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.
Charles BukowskiFrankly, 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 BukowskiThe area dividing the brain and the soul
Is affected in many ways by experience --
Some lose all mind and become soul:
insane.
Some lose all soul and become mind:
intellectual.
Some lose both and become:
accepted.
Tinha o cartão Gold Visa. Estava vivo. Talvez. Começava até a me sentir como Nick Belane. Cantalorei um trechinho de Coats. O Inferno era o que a gente fazia dele." (pág. 16)
Charles BukowskiWhy do we embroider everything we say
with special emphasis
when all we really need to do
is simply say what
needs to he said?
Of course
the fact is
that there is very little that needs
to be said.
Tag: bukowski
where some god pissed a rain of
reason to make things grow
only to die,
crawled like a blind slug into the
web
He fell off the table like a crab looking for the sea.
Charles BukowskiTag: bukowski
I wasn’t lonely. I experienced no self-pity. I was just caught up in a life in which I could find no meaning.
Charles BukowskiTag: bukowski charles-bukowski
« prima precedente
Pagina 2 di 4.
prossimo ultimo »
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.