Why did I come here? I thought. Why is it always only a matter of choosing between something bad and something worse? — Charles Bukowski
Why did I come here? I thought. Why is it always only a matter of choosing between something bad and something worse? — Charles Bukowski
Why did I come here? I thought. Why is it always only a matter of choosing between something bad and something worse? — Charles Bukowski
Why did I come here? I thought. Why is it always only a matter of choosing between something bad and something worse? — Charles Bukowski
Why did I come here? I thought. Why is it always only a matter of choosing between something bad and something worse? — Charles Bukowski
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Why did I come here? I thought. Why is it always only a matter of choosing between something bad and something worse?

— Charles Bukowski
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More “Charles bukowski” Quotes

when we were kidslaying around the lawnon ourbellieswe often talkedabouthowwe'd like todieandwe allagreed on thesamethin — we'd alllike to diefucking(althoughnone of ushaddone anyfucking)and nowthatwe are hardlykidsany longerwe think moreabouthownot todieandalthoughwe'rereadymost ofuswouldprefer todo italoneunder thesheetsnowthatmost ofushave fuckedour livesaway.
the best part waspulling down theshadesstuffing the doorbellwith ragsputting the phonein therefrigeratorand going to bed — Charles Bukowski, You Get So Alone at Times That it Just Makes Sense
Sometimes things are just what they seem to be and that's all there is to it. — Charles Bukowski
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
Mëso të mos e shkatërrosh me fjalë atë çfarë ke ndërtuar me heshtje. — Charles Bukowski
I beg to differ on Charles Bukowski, who says nothing can save you, except writing. Sometimes, absolutely nothing will s — Ioana-Cristina Casapu
Any damn fool can beg up some kind of job — it takes a wise man to make it without working.
unaccountably we are aloneforever aloneand it was meant to bethat way,it was never meantto be any other way–and when the — Charles Bukowski, Come On In!: New Poems
all theorieslike clichesshot to hell,all these small faceslooking upbeautiful and believing;I wish to weepbut sorrow iss — Charles Bukowski, What Matters Most is How Well You Walk Through the Fire
all people start tocome apart finallyand there it is:just empty ashtrays in a roomor wisps of hair on a combin the disso — Charles Bukowski