More quotes by Charles Bukowski

"my mother, poor fish,wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times aweek, telling me to be happy: "Henry, smile!why don't you ever smile?"and then she would smile, to show me how, and it was thesaddest smile I ever saw"
"To do a dull thing with style-now that's what I call art."
"those who escape hellhowevernever talk aboutitand nothing muchbothers themafterthat."
"unless the sun inside you is burning your gut, don't do it"
"We don’t even ask happiness, just a little less pain."