Quotes About Defiance

You can't beat death but you can beat death in life.

I was the only one without. you could hit bottom and then find another bottom. balls.

I emit, I hiss a rather tired and gentle word like shit, then tear this page from the machine. it's your.

Zircoff, I said, put the tomatoes away. Piss, he said, I wish they were hand grenades.

sometimes when everything seems at its worst when all conspires and gnaws and the hours, days, weeks years seem wasted— stretched there upon my bed in the dark looking upward at the ceiling I get what many will consider an obnoxious thought: it's still nice to be Bukowski.

Nuk ishte dita ime. As java ime. As muaji im. As viti im. As jeta ime, dreqi e marrtë..!

I'd rather stick my head up an elephant's cunt

Your life is your life dont let it be clubed into dank submission

When women agree with me I always do the other thing

The tigers have found me, and I do not care.

On blue jean day everybody in town was supposed to wear blue jeans or get thrown in the lake. I put on my only suit and necktie and slowly, like Billy the Kid, with all eyes on me, I walked slowly through the town, looking in windows, stopping for cigars. I broke that town in half like a wooden match.

We are here to drink beer. We are here to end war. We are here to laugh at the odds, and live life so well that Death will tremble to take us.

Brush your teeth with gasoline. Sleep all day and climb trees at night. Be a monk and drink buckshot and beer. Hold your head under water and play the violin. Do a belly dance before pink candles. Kill your dog. Run for mayor. Live in a barrel. Break your head with a hatchet. Plant tulips in the rain. But don't write any more poetry.

when confronted with dutiful policemen or women in rancor I have nothing to say to them for if I truly began it would end in somebody's death: theirs or mine so I let them have their little victories which they need far more than I do.

by the way . . . I realize I switch from present to past tense, and if you don't like it . . . ram a nipple up your scrotum. -printer: leave this in.)

you smirk, look at her (what's this?), you're cut somewhere, love it, the dripping of red onto your dirty torn undershirt, the whiskey roaring through your invincibility: you're young, you're big, and the world stinks from centuries of Humanity while you're on course and there's something left to drink—

I could make it. I could win drinking contests, I could gamble. Maybe I could pull a few holdups. I didn't ask much, just to be left alone.

They kept chirping and flipping and fingering their mental assholes.

We are dying birds we are sinking ships— the world rocks down against us and we throw out our arms and we throw out our legs like the death kiss of the centipede: but they kindly snap our backs and call our poison "politics.

I was glad I wasn't in love, that I wasn't happy with the world. I like being at odds with everything. People in love often become edgy, dangerous. They lose their sense of perspective.

L'umanità mi sta sul cazzo da sempre - ecco il mio motto.

you chippy hunk of shit,/don't bad mouth me! I'm/the toughest guy in town, you don't know/who the hell you're in this room/with!

I was glad I wasn't in love, that I wasn't happy with the world. I like being at odds with everything.

There's no point in writing my kind of stuff, when they're printing that kind of stuff. So I gave up and started drinking.