Charles Bukowski Quotes About Sleep

Quotes about: Sleep

• Human relationships are strange. I mean, you are with one person a while, eating and sleeping and living with them, loving them, talking to them, going places together, and then it stops.

  Charles Bukowski

  Mean, Sleep, Talking

• 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.

  Charles Bukowski

  Inspirational Love, Morning, Coffee

  Charles Bukowski, “Raw With Love”

• too often, the only escape is sleep

  Charles Bukowski

  Sleep

  Charles Bukowski (2002). “Il grande”, p.196, Feltrinelli Editore

• In my next life I want to be a cat. To sleep 20 hours a day and wait to be fed. To sit around licking my ass.

  Charles Bukowski

  Sleep, Cat, Waiting

  Charles Bukowski (2015). “On Cats”, p.98, Canongate Books

• I wasn't sleeping on the streets at night. Of course, there were a lot of good people sleeping in the streets. They weren't fools, they just didn't fit into the needed machinery of the moment. And those needs kept altering.

  Charles Bukowski

  Sleep, Night, People

• There's no light at the end of the tunnel, there isn't even a tunnel. The best thing I can do is get drunk and listen to classical music. Or sleep and wait for death to get closer. Leaving this will not be a horrible thing. Yet I'm glad, somehow, that I threw my words in the air: confetti, celebrating nothing.

  Charles Bukowski

  Sleep, Air, Tunnels

• there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too clever, I only let him out at night sometimes when everybody's asleep. I say, I know that you're there, so don't be sad. then I put him back, but he's singing a little in there, I haven't quite let him die and we sleep together like that with our secret pact and it's nice enough to make a man weep, but I don't weep, do you?

  Charles Bukowski

  Clever, Nice, Heart

  Charles Bukowski (2016). “On Love”, p.207, Canongate Books

• I couldn't get myself to read the want ads. The thought of sitting in front of a man behind a desk and telling him that I wanted a job, that I was qualified for a job, was too much for me. Frankly, I was horrified by life, at what a man had to do simply in order to eat, sleep, and keep himself clothed. So I stayed in bed and drank. When you drank the world was still out there, but for the moment it didn't have you by the throat.

  Charles Bukowski

  Jobs, Work, Drinking

  "Factotum". Book by Charles Bukowski, Ch. 31, 1975.

• It was sad, it was sad, it was sad. When Betty came back we didn't sing or laugh, or even argue. We sat drinking in the dark, smoking cigarettes, and when we went to sleep, I didn't put my feet on her body or she on mine like we used to. We slept without touching. We had both been robbed.

  Charles Bukowski

  Drinking, Sleep, Dark

  Charles Bukowski (2011). “Post Office”, p.79, Random House

• 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 fails and death is useless.

  Charles Bukowski

  Strong, Sleep, Skills

• I want to let her know though that all the nights sleeping beside her even the useless arguments were things ever splendid and the hard words I ever feared to say can now be said: I love you.

  Charles Bukowski

  Love You, Sleep, Night

• ...maybe a damned good night's sleep will bring me back to a gentle sanity. But at the moment, I look about this room and, like myself, it's all in disarray: things fallen out of place, cluttered, jumbled, lost, knocked over and I can't put it straight, don't want to. Perhaps living through these petty days will get us ready for the dangerous ones.

  Charles Bukowski

  Good Night, Sleep, Looks

• There's nothing to stop a man from writing unless that man stops himself. If a man truly desires to write, then he will. Rejection and ridicule will only strengthen him. And the longer he is held back the stronger he will become, like a mass of rising water against a dam. There is no losing in writing, it will make your toes laugh as you sleep, it will make you stride like a tiger, it will fire the eye and put you face to face with death. You will die a fighter, you will be honored in hell. The luck of the word. Go with it, send it.

  Charles Bukowski

  Writing, Sleep, Eye

• It will rain all this night and we will sleep transfixed by the dark water as our blood runs through our fragile life.

  Charles Bukowski

  Running, Rain, Sleep

  Charles Bukowski (2002). “Il grande”, p.260, Feltrinelli Editore

• I was naturally a loner, content just to live with a woman, eat with her, sleep with her, walk down the street with her. I didn't want conversation, or to go anywhere except the racetrack or the boxing matches. I didn't understand t.v. I felt foolish paying money to go into a movie theatre and sit with other people to share their emotions. Parties sickened me. I hated the game-playing, the dirty play, the flirting, the amateur drunks, the bores.

  Charles Bukowski

  Party, Dirty, Sleep

• I had no interests. I had no interest in anything. I had no idea how I was going to escape. At least the others had some taste for life. They seemed to understand something that I didn’t understand. Maybe I was lacking. It was possible. I often felt inferior. I just wanted to get away from them. But there was no place to go. Suicide? Jesus Christ, just more work. I felt like sleeping for five years but they wouldn’t let me.

  Charles Bukowski

  Suicide, Jesus, Sleep

  "Ham On Rye". Book by Charles Bukowski, 1982.

• Meanwhile the 3 a.m. drunks of the world would lay in their beds, trying in vain to sleep, and deserving that rest, if they could find it.

  Charles Bukowski

  Sleep, Alcohol, Trying

• little sun little moon little dog and a little to eat and a little to love and a little to live for in a little room filled with little mice who gnaw and dance and run while I sleep waiting for a little death in the middle of a little morning in a little city in a little state my little mother dead my little father dead in a little cemetery somewhere. I have only a little time to tell you this: watch out for little death when he comes running but like all the billions of little deaths it will finally mean nothing and everything: all your little tears burning like the dove, wasted.

  Charles Bukowski

  Mother, Running, Dog

  Charles Bukowski (2009). “sifting through the madness for the word, the line, the way: New Poems”, p.308, Zondervan

• I could see the road ahead of me. I was poor and I was going to stay poor. But I didn't particularly want money. I didn't know what I wanted. Yes, I did. I wanted someplace to hide out, someplace where one didn't have to do anything. The thought of being something didn't only appall me, it sickened me . . . To do things, to be part of family picnics, Christmas, the 4th of July, Labor Day, Mother's Day . . . was a man born just to endure those things and then die? I would rather be a dishwasher, return alone to a tiny room and drink myself to sleep.

  Charles Bukowski

  Mother, 4th Of July, Sleep

• Are people crazy? People waited all their lives. They waited to live, they waited to die. They waited in line to buy toilet paper. They waited in line for money. And if they didn't have any money they waited in longer lines. You waited to go to sleep and then you waited to awaken. You waited to get married and you waited to get divorced. You waited for it to rain, you waited for it to stop. You waited to eat and then you waited to eat again. You waited in a shrink's office with a bunch of psychos and you wondered if you were one.

  Charles Bukowski

  Crazy, Rain, Sleep

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