Charles Bukowski Quotes

However, the thought hit me that this was a pretty pathetic way to kick the bucket - being accidentally poisoned during a photo shoot, of all things - and I started weeping at the idiocy of it all.

Each day is a little life: every waking and rising a little birth, every fresh morning a little youth, every going to rest and sleep a little death.

Which death is preferably to every other? 'The unexpected'.

Every morning, I would actually look at the obituaries before I had breakfast. And as a joke I said if I was not in it, I would have the breakfast.

I'm not a cooking person, so there's not much in the fridge. On the rare occasion that I do cook, I make myself breakfast. Eggs are my go-to in the morning for some protein. Orange juice as well. You have to start your day off with that.

A sparrow lay dead on the backseat. She had found her way through a hole in the windscreen, tempted by some seat-sponge for her nest. She never found her way out. No one noticed her panicked car-window appeals. She died on the backseat, with her legs in the air. Like a joke.

Heaven gives its favourites-early death.

Wake up! Time to die!

People think I am dead because they haven’t seen me around for awhile. I’m not dead, I’m very much alive, as you can see. Although, there are two things I do before I get up every morning. I look around and if I don’t smell flowers or see candles flickering I go ahead and get up.

Awakening in the morning returns us to life, and to awareness of death.

My typical day is I wake up and appreciate that I can still wake up.

You will live as you live anywhere. With difficulty, and grief. Yes, you are dead. And I and my family and everyone, always, forever. All dead, like stones. But what does it matter? You still have to go to work in the morning. You still have to live.

My day's work will begin again the next morning. The tomb is not a blind alley.

If I just got up in the morning and had no place to go and was retired or something, I would be sitting there and be thinking, "Gee, what is the purpose of life? Why are we all finite? Why do we get old and die? Is there nothing out there? Why is it so tragic? Why do our loved ones perish? Why do we generate?" Who wants to think about that stuff?

Love grew commendably dependable - love was eggs, love was ham, love was the morning paper.

I get up every morning and read the obituary column. If my name's not there, I eat breakfast.

He had never expected death to be this quiet, this secretive, this easy.

He was the ghost you never saw coming, death breathing down your neck before you even realized you were in the crosshairs.

We never know when we too will be called into eternity. I doubt if even one of those people who got on those planes or walked into the World Trade Center or the Pentagon last Tuesday morning thought it would be the last day of their lives. They didn't - it didn't occur to them. And that's why each of us needs to face our own spiritual need and commit ourselves to God and his will now.

On the morning the last Lisbon daughter took her turn at suicide- it was Mary this time, and sleeping pills, like Therese- the two paramedics arrived at the house knowing exactly where the knife drawer was, and the gas oven, and the beam in the basement from which it was possible to tie a rope.

Remember when you were a little kid and you'd fall asleep in the car? And someone would carry you out and put you into bed, so that when you woke up in the morning, you knew automatically you were home again? That's what I think it's like to die.

death had just shred a tear

"It's a question of discipline," the little prince told me later on. "When you've finished washing and dressing each morning, you must tend your planet."

This is unbearable ... God. These books she'll never read. Her Life's Library.

Tomorrow at sunrise I shall no longer be here.