Charles Bukowski

“So you want to be a writer if it doesn’t come bursting out of youin spite of everything,don’t do it.unless it comes unasked out of yourheart and your mind and your mouthand your gut,don’t do it.if you have to sit for hoursstaring at your computer screenor hunched over yourtypewritersearching for words,don’t do it.if you’re doing it for money orfame,don’t do it.if you’re doing it because you wantwomen in your bed,don’t do it.if you have to sit there andrewrite it again and again,don’t do it.if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,don’t do it.if you’re trying to write like somebodyelse,forget about it.if you have to wait for it to roar out ofyou,then wait patiently.if it never does roar out of you,do something else.if you first have to read it to your wifeor your girlfriend or your boyfriendor your parents or to anybody at all,you’re not ready.don’t be like so many writers,don’t be like so many thousands ofpeople who call themselves writers,don’t be dull and boring andpretentious, don’t be consumed with self-love.the libraries of the world haveyawned themselves tosleepover your kind.don’t add to that.don’t do it.unless it comes out ofyour soul like a rocket,unless being still woulddrive you to madness orsuicide or murder,don’t do it.unless the sun inside you isburning your gut,don’t do it.when it is truly time,and if you have been chosen,it will do it byitself and it will keep on doing ituntil you die or it dies in you.there is no other way.and there never was.”

“i do not like to work and have no trade but i do like to eat, so this is basic, the basic training of slaves to fear...”

“little sun little moon little dogand a little to eat and a little to loveand a little to live forin a little roomfilled with littlemicewho gnaw and dance and run while I sleepwaiting for a little deathin the middle of a little morningin a little cityin a little statemy little mother deadmy little father deadin a little cemetery somewhere.I have onlya little timeto tell you this:watch out forlittle death when he comes runningbut like all the billions of little deathsit will finally mean nothing and everything:all your little tears burning like the dove,wasted.”

“guido per le strade,ad un passo dal pianto,vergognandomi del mio sentimentalismoe del mio possibile amore.”

“Ricorderò la tua piccola stanza, la sensazione di te, la luce nella finestra, i tuoi dischi, i tuoi libri, il nostro caffè al mattino, i nostri pomeriggi, le nostre notti, i nostri corpi attaccati, il piccolo flusso di energia, immediato e per sempre. Le tue gambe, le mie gambe, le tue braccia, le mie braccia, il tuo sorriso ed il tuo calore quando mi facevi ridere ancora.”

“nessuno trova mai quello giusto.”

“è sempre un processo di lasciar perdere, in un modo o nell'altro.”

“E poi ci sono quelli che credono che le vecchie relazionipossano essere rivissute efatte nuove.Ma perfavorese ti senti in quel modonon chiamarenon scriverenon arrivare...”

“Voglio così tanto che non è quì e che non so dove cercarlo.”

“tu figlio di puttana, disse lei, sto cercando di costruire una relazione che abbia senso.non puoi costruirla con un martello, disse lui”

“he asked, "what makes a man awriter?""well," I said, "it's simple, it's either youget it down on paper or you jump off abridge.writers are desperate people and when they stopbeing desperate they stop beingwriters.""are you desperate?""I don't know...”

“i never understood society. i undersand that it works somehow and that it functions as a reality and that its realities are necessary to keep us from worse realities. but all i sense are that are plenty of police and jails and judges and laws and that what is meant to protect me is breaking me down...”

“You just rebel against everything. How are you going to survive?I don't know. I'm already tired.”

“As we live we all get caught and torn by various traps. Nobody escapes them. Some even live with them. The idea is to realize that a trap is a trap. If you are in one and you don't realize it, then you're finished.”

“I was a bore and didn't know when to smile or fake it. Or rather worse, I did but didn't.”

“like the foxI run with the huntedand if I’m notthe happiest manon earthI’m surely theluckiest manalive.”

“We waited and waited. All of us. Didn't the shrink know that waiting was one of the things that drove people crazy? People waited all their lives. They waited to live, they waited to die. They waited in line to buy toilet paper. They waited in line for money. And if they didn't have any money they waited in longer lines. You waited to go to sleep and then you waited to awaken. You waited to get married and you waited to get divorced. You waited for it to rain, you waited for it to stop. You waited to eat and then you waited to eat again. You waited in a shrink's office with a bunch of psychos and you wondered if you were one.”

“It seems I make a lot of mistakes and it seems that I am not allowed any.”

“People don't need love. What they need is success in one form or another. It can be love but it needn't be.”

“There's a light somewhere.It may not be much light butit beats the darkness.”

“Beauty is nothing, beauty won’t stay. You don’t know how lucky you are to be ugly, because if people like you, you know it’s for something else.”

“i dunno," i said, "but i have an idea that people who don't think too much tend to look younger longer”

“I had decided against religion a couple of years back. If it were true, it made fools out of people, or it drew fools. And if it weren't true, the fools were all the more foolish.What I need is a good doctor, I thought.You either lived or died.”

“But they were all tricks.They were very dull. There were pages and pages of words that didn't say anything.Or if they did say something they took too long to say it and by the time they said it you already were too tired to have it matter at all.you al re ady we re”

“It didn't pay to trust another human being. Humans didn't have it, whatever it took.”

“It’s not so much that nothing meansanything but more that it keeps meaningnothing.there’s no release, just gurus and self-appointed gods and hucksters.the more people say, the less there is to say.even the best books are dry sawdust.”

“well, i don't know about you but I'm going to try everything! War, women, travel, marriage, children, the works. [...]. I want to know about things, what makes them work!”

“I had no Freedom. I had nothing.”

“SO YOU WANT TO BE A WRITERif it doesn't come bursting out of youin spite of everything,don't do it.unless it comes unasked out of yourheart and your mind and your mouthand your gut,don't do it.if you have to sit for hoursstaring at your computer screenor hunched over yourtypewritersearching for words,don't do it.if you're doing it for money orfame,don't do it.if you're doing it because you wantwomen in your bed,don't do it.if you have to sit there andrewrite it again and again,don't do it.if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,don't do it.if you're trying to write like somebodyelse,forget about it.if you have to wait for it to roar out ofyou,then wait patiently.if it never does roar out of you,do something else.if you first have to read it to your wifeor your girlfriend or your boyfriendor your parents or to anybody at all,you're not ready.don't be like so many writers,don't be like so many thousands ofpeople who call themselves writers,don't be dull and boring andpretentious, don't be consumed with self-love.the libraries of the world haveyawned themselves tosleepover your kind.don't add to that.don't do it.unless it comes out ofyour soul like a rocket,unless being still woulddrive you to madness orsuicide or murder,don't do it.unless the sun inside you isburning your gut,don't do it.when it is truly time,and if you have been chosen,it will do it byitself and it will keep on doing ituntil you die or it dies in you.there is no other way.and there never was.”

“There is light somewhere.”

“Now, I thought, pushing my cart along, I have this job. Is this to be it? No wonder men robbedbanks. There were too many demeaning jobs. Why the hell wasn't I a superior court judge or aconcert pianist? Because it took training and training cost money. But I didn't want to be anythinganyhow. And I was certainly succeeding”

“Everybody had to conform, find a mold to fit into. Doctor, lawyer, soldier -- itdidn't matter what it was. Once in the mold you had to push forward. Sussex was as helpless as thenext man. Either you managed to do something or you starved in the streets.”

“Even the most horrible human being on earth deserves to wipe his ass.”

“Let' em learn or let' em die”

“MAILMAN CAUGHT DRINKING THE BLOOD OF GOD AND TAKING A SHOWER, NAKED, IN ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH.”

“Parker had a young white boy with him-one of the neurotic tribe of the lost- and the kid's eyes were filled with wet layers of tears. One big tear in each eye. They did not drop out. It was fascinating. I had seen women sit and look at me with those same eyes before they got mad and started screaming about what a son of a bitch I was.”

“Don't butter me, Babe.”

“YOU DON'T SMELL FIRE," I yelled. YOU SMELL SMOKE.”

“Our source is private.""So are your parts but you can expose them".”

“Algunas personas nunca enloquecen. Tendrán unas vidas realmente horribles.”

“It’s hard to drink when you dance. And it’s hard to dance when you drink.”

“All a guy needed was a chance. Somebody was alway controlling who got a chance and who didn't.”

“beware those quick to praisefor they need praise in returnbeware those who are quick to censorthey are afraid of what they do not knowbeware those who seek constant crowds for they are nothing alonebeware the average man the average womanbeware their love, their love is averageseeks average”

“Experience can dull. With most men experience is a series of mistakes; the more experience you have the less you know.”

“Nothing against the law ever cease to exist.”

“If I could only make her fall in love with me. Pretend to be a writer and just fuck her and have her cook for me. I would never have to write I’d just pretend.”

“Hey, Hank, I notice all the women around your place lately ... good looking stuff; you're doing all right.""Sam," I say, "that's not true; I am one of God's most lonely men.”

“Yes?’ he asked, looking at me over the sheet.‘I’m a writer temporarily down on my inspirations.’‘Oh, a writer, eh?’‘Yes.’‘Are you sure?’‘No, I’m not.’‘What do you write?’‘Short stories mostly. And I’m halfway through a novel.’‘A novel, eh?’‘Yes.’‘What’s the name of it?’‘”The Leaky Faucet of My Doom.”‘‘Oh, I like that. What’s it about?’‘Everything.’‘Everything? You mean, for instance, it’s about cancer?’‘Yes.’‘How about my wife?’‘She’s in there too.”

“I am not a snob; it is simply that I am not interested with what most people have to say, or what they want to do — mostly with my time.”

“Sometimes I get too exhaustedto even feel bad”