Charles Bukowski Quotes About Whiskey

Quotes about: Whiskey

• You can steal my women but don't play with my whiskey.

  Charles Bukowski

  Play, Whiskey, Stealing

  Charles Bukowski (2013). “Tales of Ordinary Madness”, p.38, City Lights Books

• I still have a little whiskey left and therefore a chance.

  Charles Bukowski

  Drinking, Littles, Chance

• There's a bluebird in my heart that
  wants to get out
  but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
  cigarette smoke
  and the whores and the bartenders
  and the grocery clerks
  never know that
  he's
  in there.

  Charles Bukowski

  Heart, Cigarette Smoke, Clerks

  Charles Bukowski (2012). “The Pleasures of the Damned: Selected Poems 1951-1993”, p.494, Canongate Books

• Everything was a trap: women, drugs, whiskey, wine, scotch, beer - even beer - cigars, and cigarettes. Traps: Work or no work. Traps: Artistry or no artistry; everything sucked you into some spiderweb. I disdained the use of the needle for the same reason that I disdained some so-called beautiful women - the price was far beyond the measure of the worth. I didn't want to hustle that hard.

  Charles Bukowski

  Beautiful, Wine, Beer

  Charles Bukowski (2008). “Charles Bukowski: portions from a wine-stained notebook : uncollected stories and essays, 1944-1990”, City Lights Publishers

• whiskey makes the heart beat faster but it sure doesn't help the mind and isn't it funny how you can ache just from the deadly drone of existence?

  Charles Bukowski

  Heart, Mind, Drones

• I remembered my New Orleans days, living on two five-cent candy bars a day for weeks at a time in order to have leisure to write. But starvation, unfortunately, didn't improve art. It only hindered it. A man's soul was rooted in his stomach. A man could write much better after eating a porterhouse steak and drinking a pint of whiskey than he could ever write after eating a nickel candy bar. The myth of the starving artist was a hoax.

  Charles Bukowski

  Art, Drinking, Writing

  "Factotum". Book by Charles Bukowski, Ch. 29, 1975.

• the psyche has been burned and left us senseless, the world has been darker than lights-out in a closet full of hungry bats, and the whiskey and wine entered our veins when blood was too weak to carry on

  Charles Bukowski

  Wine, Blood, Light

  Charles Bukowski (2012). “The Pleasures of the Damned: Selected Poems 1951-1993”, p.60, Canongate Books

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