and love is a word usedtoo much andmuchtoo soon. — Charles Bukowski, The Night Torn Mad With Footsteps
and love is a word usedtoo much andmuchtoo soon. — Charles Bukowski, The Night Torn Mad With Footsteps
and love is a word usedtoo much andmuchtoo soon. — Charles Bukowski, The Night Torn Mad With Footsteps
and love is a word usedtoo much andmuchtoo soon. — Charles Bukowski, The Night Torn Mad With Footsteps
and love is a word usedtoo much andmuchtoo soon. — Charles Bukowski, The Night Torn Mad With Footsteps
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and love is a word usedtoo much andmuchtoo soon.

— Charles Bukowski, The Night Torn Mad With Footsteps
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More “Bukowski” Quotes

Sometimes things are just what they seem to be and that's all there is to it. — Charles Bukowski
sometimes when everything seems atits worstwhen all conspiresand gnawsand the hours, days, weeksyearsseem wasted – stret — Charles Bukowski, You Get So Alone at Times That it Just Makes Sense
I do think that poetry is important though, if you don’t strive at it, if you don’t fill it full of stars and falseness. — Charles Bukowski
during my worst timeson the park benchesin the jailsor living withwhoresI always had this certaincontentment-I wouldn't — Charles Bukowski
If I bet on humanity, I'd never cash a ticket. — Charles Bukowski
where some god pissed a rain of reason to make things grow only to die, — Charles Bukowski
that your power of commandwith simple language wasone of the magnificent things ofour century.(from the poem: result) — Charles Bukowski
I remember yoursaying: "make itor break it."neither happened anditwon't. — Charles Bukowski, You Get So Alone at Times That it Just Makes Sense
It got so bad that Al thoughtmaybe it washimso he went to a shrinkand askedand the shrink said,"you're one of the sanest — Charles Bukowski, You Get So Alone at Times That it Just Makes Sense
crawled like a blind slug into the web — Charles Bukowski, The People Look Like Flowers at Last
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 write — Charles Bukowski, Notes of a Dirty Old Man
Basically, that's why I wrote: to save my ass, to save my ass from the madhouse, from the streets, from myself. — Charles Bukowski