no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as — Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
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no concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. you can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as hopeless and as numbed as yours.

— Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way
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More “Charles bukowski” Quotes

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
The ass is the face of the soul of sex. — Charles Bukowski
there are so many dayswhen living stops and pulls up and sitsand waits like a train on the rails. — Charles Bukowski
when you're younga pair offemalehigh-heeled shoesjust sittingalonein the closetcan fire yourbones — when you're oldit's justa pair of shoeswithoutanybodyin themandjust aswell.
If you have the ability to love, love yourself first. — Charles Bukowski
the flesh covers the bone and they put a mind in there and sometimes a soul, and the women break vases against the walls — Charles Bukowski
wesat theresmokingcigarettesat5in the morning. — Charles Bukowski, The Pleasures of the Damned
Why did I come here? I thought. Why is it always only a matter of choosing between something bad and something worse? — Charles Bukowski