Charles Bukowski Quotes

When someone is in your heart, they're never truly gone. They can come back to you, even at unlikely times.

The girl's lover was gone, but his shadow was still there.

The characters I'm most emotionally involved with are like friends you leave behind when you move away. You don't see them regularly anymore, but you still love them and keep in touch.

It isn't possible to love and to part.

MUSIC I heard with you was more than music, And bread I broke with you was more than bread. Now that I am without you, all is desolate, All that was once so beautiful is dead. Your hands once touched this table and this silver,And I have seen your fingers hold this glass. These things do not remember you, beloved: And yet your touch upon them will not pass. For it was in my heart you moved among them,And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes.And in my heart they will remember always: They knew you once, O beautiful and wise!

But Jude,' she would say, 'you knew me. All those days and years, Jude, you knew me. My ways and my hands and how my stomach folded and how we tried to get Mickey to nurse and how about that time when the landlord said...but you said...and I cried, Jude. You knew me and had listened to the things I said in the night, and heard me in the bathroom and laughed at my raggedy girdle and I laughed too because I knew you too, Jude. So how could you leave me when you knew me?

I missed her then but it was an odd sort of missing because by then, I knew the meaning of forever.

Absence becomes the greatest Presence.

When all our tears have reached the sea, part of you will live in me.

Friends depart, and memory takes them To her caverns, pure and deep.

AT first Raoden stayed away from the library, because it reminded him of her. Then he found himself drawn back to it—because it reminded him of her.

You always miss them [characters you've played] once you've walked away, but part of them always stays with you too.

With you a part of me hath passed away; For in the peopled forest of my mind A tree made leafless by this wintry wind Shall never don again its green array. Chapel and fireside, country road and bay, Have something of their friendliness resigned; Another, if I would, I could not find, And I am grown much older in a day. But yet I treasure in my memory Your gift of charity, and young hearts ease, And the dear honour of your amity; For these once mine, my life is rich with these. And I scarce know which part may greater be,-- What I keep of you, or you rob from me.

I missed him. Love, I realized, was something your spine memorized. There was nothing you could do about that.

Love itself cannot be divorced from the suffering which comes from being separated from the object of love.

Sam looked at me, yellow eyes catching and holding me. "I miss being me. I miss you. All the time.

I drug your ghost across the country, and we plotted out my death. Every city and memory we whispered "Here is where you rest." Well I was determined in Chicago but I dug my teeth into my knees And I settled for a telephone, sang into your machine: "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.

Every day I'll wear your memory like a favorite shirt upon my back

He thought of her often, and he missed the companionship they'd once shared and the friendship that had been the bedrock of their marriage at its best.

Trying to find a heart that's not walking away.

After departure, only invisible things are left, perhaps the life of the world is held together by invisible chains of memory and loss and love. So many things, so many people, depart! And we can only repossess them in our minds.

She was gone, and all that was left was the space where you'd grown around her, like a tree that grows around a fence.

Lost love is still love. It takes a different form, that's all. You can't see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it.

I had always been in love with him. I counted the lashes of each closed eye. He had been my almost, my might have been, and I did not want to leave him