
Top 24 Bukowski Love Quotes
#1. One doesn't even think of
the liver
and if the liver
doesn't think of
us, that's
fine.
Charles Bukowski
#2. I know that some night
in some bedroom
soon
my fingers will
rift
through
soft clean
hair
songs such as no radio
plays
all sadness, grinning
into flow.
Charles Bukowski
#5. I see a bright
portion
under the overhead light
that shades into
darkness
and then into darker
darkness
and I can't see beyond that.
Charles Bukowski
#6. I feel no grief for being called something
which
I am not;
in fact, it's enthralling, somehow, like a good
back rub
Charles Bukowski
#9. When you're young
a pair of
female
high-heeled shoes
just sitting
alone
in the closet
can fire your
bones;
when you're old
it's just
a pair of shoes
without
anybody
in them
and
just as
well.
Charles Bukowski
#10. Sometimes all we need to be able to continue alone
are the dead
rattling the walls
that close us in.
Charles Bukowski
#11. The world is better without
them.
only the plants and the animals are
true comrades.
I drink to them and with
them.
Charles Bukowski
#12. Having nothing to struggle
against
they have nothing to struggle
for.
Charles Bukowski
#13. Some men are crazy," I said, moving toward the door.
"What do wou mean?"
"I mean, some men are in love with their wives.
Charles Bukowski
#14. I'm fucking the grave, I thought, I'm bringing the dead back to life ...
Charles Bukowski
#16. The worst thing," he told me,
"is bitterness, people end up so
bitter.
Charles Bukowski
#17. Love is not a candle burning down. Life is. And love and life are not the same or else Love, having choice, nobody would ever die.
Charles Bukowski
#20. She slammed the door and
was gone.
I looked at the closed door
and at the doorknob
and strangely
I didn't feel
alone.
Charles Bukowski
#21. I found the best thing
I could do
was just to type away
at my own work
and let the dying
die
as they always have.
Charles Bukowski
#22. I didn't know who to
believe
but
one thing I do
know: when a man is
living
many claim relationships
that are hardly
so
and after he dies, well,
then it's everybody's
party.
Charles Bukowski
#23. All we do is sleep, and eat and lay around and make love. We're like slugs. Slug-love, I call it.
Charles Bukowski
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