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Post Office QUOTES

Post Office QUOTES

101 " Most of these men's lives were so tortured that I enjoyed reading about them, thinking, well, I am in hell too and I can't even write music. "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

102 " What's the sin in being poor? "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

103 " I needed coffee, two coffees, a bite to eat. "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

104 " Just like some guys can’t taxi or pimp or hustle dope, most guys, and gals too, can’t be postal clerks. "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

105 " Nie každý dokáže jazdiť taxíkom, robiť pasáka alebo predávať drogy, a rovnako tak nie každý chlap - alebo ženská - dokáže pracovať ako poštový úradník. "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

106 " WHAT’S WRONG WITH ASSHOLES, BABY? YOU’VE GOT AN ASSHOLE, I’VE GOT AN ASSHOLE! YOU GO TO THE STORE AND BUY A PORTERHOUSE STEAK, THAT HAD AN ASSHOLE! ASSHOLES COVER THE EARTH! IN A WAY TREES HAVE ASSHOLES BUT YOU CAN’T FIND THEM, THEY JUST DROP THEIR LEAVES. YOUR ASSHOLE, MY ASSHOLE, THE WORLD IS FULL OF BILLIONS OF ASSHOLES, THE PRESIDENT HAS AN ASSHOLE, THE CARWASH BOY HAS AN ASSHOLE, THE JUDGE AND THE MURDERER HAVE ASSHOLES . . .  EVEN PURPLE STICKPIN HAS AN ASSHOLE! "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

107 " I got into the car and began cruising up and down the streets looking for a For Rent sign. It didn’t seem to be an unusual thing to do. "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

108 " Then I met David Janko on the station. He was a young white in his early twenties. I made the mistake of talking to him, something about classical music because it was the only thing I could listen to while drinking beer in bed in the early morning. If you listen morning after morning you are bound to remember things. And when Joyce had divorced me I had mistakenly packed 2 volumes of The Lives of the Classical and Modern Composers into one of my suitcases. Most of these men's lives were so tortured that I enjoyed reading about them, thinking, well, I am in hell too and I can't even write music. "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

109 " Any damn fool can beg up some kind of job; it takes a wise man to make it without working. Out here we call it ‘hustling.’ I’d like to be a good hustler. "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

110 " He’d ended up with the best piece of ass in town. "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

111 " It was one of the biggest fattest lies of the century. I’ve been looking for that guy for years but I’m afraid somebody else has gotten to him first. "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

112 " Wise son of a bitch, you’re one of those sons of bitches with a vocabulary and you like to lay it around! "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

113 " THE WORLD IS FULL OF BILLIONS OF ASSHOLES. THE PRESIDENT HAS AN ASSHOLE, THE CARWASH BOY HAS AN ASSHOLE, THE JUDGE AND THE MURDERER HAVE ASSHOLES … EVEN PURPLE STICKPIN HAS AN ASSHOLE! "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

114 " pirogue. "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

115 " Food is good for the nerves and the spirit. "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

116 " Oh, I didn’t know that. I thought you bitches were always screaming for equal rights? "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

117 " You can't blame a man for wanting to better himself. "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

118 " YOUR ASSHOLE, MY ASSHOLE, THE WORLD IS FULL OF BILLIONS OF ASSHOLES. THE PRESIDENT HAS AN ASSHOLE, THE CARWASH BOY HAS AN ASSHOLE, THE JUDGE AND THE MURDERER HAVE ASSHOLES "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

119 " La monotonia, un lavoro fisso che non portava a niente, anime che cercavano altre anime per sfuggire ad imbarazzanti silenzi ed una città senza stimoli che cercava di camuffare la noia dietro falsi sorrisi, musica assordante e belle gambe inavvicinabili. Niente di buono. Ma era incredibile come la gente riusciva ad adattarsi "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office

120 " Once años pasaron por mi cabeza. Había visto al trabajo devorar a hombres hechos y derechos. Parecían derretirse. Estaba Jimmy Potts, de la estafeta Dorsey. Cuando llegué, Jimmy era un tío fuerte y bien parecido con una camiseta blanca. Ahora había desaparecido. Había puesto su asiento lo más cerca del suelo posible para sostenerse mejor con las piernas y no caer redondo. Estaba demasiado cansado para cortarse el pelo y había llevado el mismo par de pantalones durante 3 años. Se cambiaba de camisa un par de veces por semana y caminaba muy lentamente. Lo habían matado. Tenía 55 años. Le faltaban 7 para el retiro. "

― Charles Bukowski , Post Office