Charles Bukowski

“Jack with the hair hanging, Jack demanding money, Jack of the big gut, Jack of the loud, loud voice, Jack of the trade, Jack who prances before the ladies, Jack who thinks he´s a genius, Jack who pukes, Jack who bad mouths the lucky, Jack getting older and older, Jack still demanding money, Jack sliding down the beanstalk, Jack who talks about it but doesn't do it, Jack who gets away with murder, Jack who jacks, Jack who talks of the old days, Jack who talks and talks, Jack with the hand out, Jack who terrorizes the weak, Jack the embittered, Jack of the coffee shops, Jack screaming for recognition, Jack who never has a job, Jack who totally overrates his potential, Jack who keeps screaming about his unrecognized talent, Jack who blames everybody else.”

“there's no defenseexcept all the errorsmade”

“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.”

“Quando tutto sarà finito sono sicuro che mi verrà concesso un minuto per ripensare a tutte le volte che volevo urlare cosa sentivo, ma sono stato zitto per paura di non essere capito, e rimpiangerò gli obbiettivi che ho abbandonato perché il timore di fallire mi ha impedito di perseguirli. Questa vita è una puttana e probabilmente mi spezzerà il cuore, ma cazzo, sono innamorato.”

“Mi guardo bene dal tenermi in gola le parole: ho passato gran parte della mia vita a non dire le cose che volevo dire, e me ne sono pentito. La nostra natura ci impone di mandare messaggi subliminali, comunicare con i gesti, perché abbiamo paura di esporci per come siamo. Anche a noi stessi. Quando tutto sarà finito sono sicuro che mi verrà concesso un minuto per ripensare a tutte le volte che volevo urlare cosa sentivo, ma sono stato zitto per paura di non essere capito, e rimpiangerò gli obbiettivi che ho abbandonato perché il timore di fallire mi ha impedito di perseguirli. Questa vita è una puttana e probabilmente mi spezzerà il cuore, ma cazzo, sono innamorato. Va così, rhum e pera, perché ci sono dei momenti forti che ti lasciano l’amaro in bocca, e altri talmente belli da farti dimenticare quel retrogusto sgradevole che ha la vita”

“there was a soldier in the next room living with his wife and he would soon be going over there to protect me from Hitler so I snapped the radio off and then heard his wife say, "you shouldn't have done that." and the soldier said, "FUCK THAT GUY!" which I thought was a very nice thing for him to tell his wife to do. of course, she never did.”

“writing about a writer's block is better than not writing at all”

“I could read the great books but the great books don't interest me.”

“animals never worry about Heaven or Hell. neither do I. maybe that's why we get along”

“not writing is not good but trying to write when you can't is worse.”

“well, death says, as he walks by, I'm going to get you anyhow no matter what you've been: writer, cab-driver, pimp, butcher, sky-diver, I'm going to get you”

“young or old, good or bad, I don't think anything dies as slow and as hard as a writer.”

“I was so thin I could slice bread with my shoulderblades, only I seldom had bread”

“I tell you such fine music waits in the shadows of hell.”

“of one hundred movies there's one that is fair, one that's good and ninety eight that are very bad. most movies start badly and steadily get worse”

“people see so many movies that when they finally see one not so bad as the others, they think it's great. an Academy Award means that you don't stink quite as much as your cousin.”

“great books are the ones we need”

“and getting dressed we talk about what else there might be to do, but being together solves most of it, in fact, solves all of it”

“I write as a function. Without it I would fall ill and die. It's as much a part of one as the liver or intestine, and just about as glamorous.”

“escape from the black widow spider is a miracle as great as art.what a web she can weave slowly drawing you to hershe'll embrace you then when she's satisfied she'll kill youstill in her embrace and suck the blood from you. ”

“Trappeddon't undress my loveyou might find a mannequin:don't undress the mannequin you might findmy love. she's long agoforgotten me. she's trying on a newhat and looks more the coquettethan ever.she is achildand a mannequinand death. I can't hate that. she didn't doanything unusual. I only wanted herto.”

“Somebody at one of these places asked me: "What do you do? How do you write, create?" You don't, I told them. You "don't try". That's very important: not to try, either for Cadillacs, creation or immortality. You wait, and if nothing happens, you wait some more. It's like a bug high on the wall. You wait for it to come to you. When it gets close enough you reach out, slap out and kill it. Or if you like it's looks, you make a pet out of it.”

“Many a good man has been put under the bridge by a woman.”

“Ann, I love you. I hope my car starts. I hope the sink isn't plugged up. I'm glad I didn't fuck a groupie. I'm glad I'm not very good at getting into bed with strange females. I'm glad I'm an idiot. I'm glad I don't know anything. I'm glad I haven't been murdered. When I look at my hands and they are still on my wrists, I think to myself, I am lucky.”

“You are thirty minutes late.""Yes.""Would you be thirty minutes late to a wedding or a funeral?""No.""Why not, pray tell?""Well, if the funeral was mine I'd have to be on time. If the wedding was mine it would be my funeral.”

“Prazan džep ima neku primjesu romantizma samo kada si jako mlad.”

“I often carry things to readso that I will not have to look atthe people.”

“but as God said, crossing his legs, I see where I have made plenty of poets but not so very much poetry.”

“just heard a commercialwhich told meFarmer John smokes his ownbacon.now, there's one toughson of abitch.”

“i am with the rootsof flowersentwined, entombedsending up my passionate blossomsas a flight of rocketsand argument;wine churls my throat,above mefeet walk upon my brain, monkies fall from the skyclutching photographs of the planets,but i seek only musicand the leisureof my pain”

“nobody ever finds the one”

“and when love came to us twice and lied to us twice we decided to never love again that was fair fair to us and fair to love itself. we ask for no mercy or no miracles; we are strong enough to live and to die and to kill flies, attend the boxing matches, go to the racetrack, live on luck and skill, get alone, get alone often, and if you can't sleep alone be careful of the words you speak in your sleep; and ask for no mercy no miracles; and don't forget: time is meant to be wasted, love failsand death is useless.”

“all that I know is that I believe inthe sound of music and therunning of a horse. all else is squabble.”

“Those who preach god, need godThose who preach peace do not have peaceThose who preach love do not have love”

“Without literature, life is hell.”

“I will put on my shoes and shirtand get out of here - it'll be better forall of us.”

“in the cupboard sits my bottlelike a dwarf waiting to scratch out my prayers.I drink and cough like some idiot at a symphony,sunlight and maddened birds are everywhere,the phone rings gamboling its soundagainst the odds of the crooked sea;I drink deeply and evenly now,I drink to paradiseand deathand the lie of love.”

“you are yesterday'sbouquet so sadlyraided”

“I'm only interested in poetry.”

“Our disappointment sits between us.”

“Angels,we have grown apart.”

“There is no hurry. Time means nothingto you.”

“I'll use the knives for spreading jam, and the gas to warmmy greying love.”

“I want so much that is not here and do not knowwhere to go.”

“I want tolet her know thoughthat all the nightssleepingbeside hereven the uselessargumentswere thingsever splendidand the hard wordsI ever feared to say can now be said:I loveyou.”

“I will remember the kisses our lips raw with love and how you gave me everything you had and how I offered you what was left of me, and I will remember your small room the feel of you the light in the window your records your books our morning coffee our noons our nights our bodies spilled together sleeping the tiny flowing currents immediate and forever your leg my leg your arm my arm your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.”

“Joan of Arc had style. Jesus had style.”

“That moment - to this ...may be years in the way they measure,but it's only one sentence back in my mind - there are so many dayswhen living stops and pulls up and sitsand waits like a train on the rails.I pass the hotel at 8and at 5; there are cats in the alleysand bottles and bums,and I look up at the window and think,I no longer know where you are,and I walk on and wonder wherethe living goeswhen it stops.”

“the sea is made of blood”

“and I laugh, I can still laugh, who can't laugh when the whole thingis so ridiculousthat only the insane, the clowns, the half-wits, the cheaters, the whores, the horseplayers, the bankrobbers, the poets ... are interesting?”