Charles Bukowski Quotes About Wall

Quotes about: Wall

• Drinking is an emotional thing. It joggles you out of the standardism of everyday life, out of everything being the same. It yanks you out of your body and your mind and throws you against the wall. I have the feeling that drinking is a form of suicide where you're allowed to return to life and begin all over the next day. It's like killing yourself, and then you're reborn. I guess I've lived about ten or fifteen thousand lives now.

  Charles Bukowski

  Suicide, Wall, Drinking

• I was fighting a small fight of my own which wasn't leading
  anywhere-but like a man with a bent spoon trying to dig through a cement wall I knew that a small fight was better than quitting: it
  kept the heart alive.

  Charles Bukowski

  Wall, Heart, Fighting

• nothing can save you except writing. it keeps the walls from failing.

  Charles Bukowski

  Wall, Writing, Failing

• Pull a string, a puppet moves ... each man must realize that it can all disappear very quickly: the cat, the woman, the job, the front tire, the bed, the walls, the room; all our necessities including love, rest on foundations of sand - and any given cause, no matter how unrelated: the death of a boy in Hong Kong or a blizzard in Omaha ... can serve as your undoing. all your chinaware crashing to the kitchen floor, your girl will enter and you'll be standing, drunk, in the center of it and she'll ask: my god, what's the matter? and you'll answer: I don't know, I don't know.

  Charles Bukowski

  Girl, Jobs, Wall

  Charles Bukowski, “Pull A String, A Puppet Moves”

• alone with everybody the flesh covers the bone and they put a mind in there and sometimes a soul, and the women break vases against the walls and them men drink too much and nobody finds the one but they keep looking crawling in and out of beds. flesh covers the bone and the flesh searches for more than flesh. there's no chance at all: we are all trapped by a singular fate. nobody ever finds the one. the city dumps fill the junkyards fill the madhouses fill the hospitals fill the graveyards fill nothing else fills.

  Charles Bukowski

  Wall, Fate, Men

  Charles Bukowski, “Alone With Everybody”

• there is moss on the walls and the stain of thought and failure and waiting

  Charles Bukowski

  Wall, Waiting, Moss

  Charles Bukowski (2012). “The Pleasures of the Damned: Selected Poems 1951-1993”, p.152, Canongate Books

• Somebody at one of these places asked me: "What do you do? How do you write, create?" You don't, I told them. You "don't try". That's very important: not to try, either for Cadillacs, creation or immortality. You wait, and if nothing happens, you wait some more. It's like a bug high on the wall. You wait for it to come to you. When it gets close enough you reach out, slap out and kill it. Or if you like it's looks, you make a pet out of it.

  Charles Bukowski

  Wall, Writing, Waiting

• Long before I became 'rich and famous' I just sat round drinking wine and staring at the walls.

  Charles Bukowski

  Wall, Drinking, Wine

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