Quotes About Expectation

To me, nudity is a joke. I don't think nude people are very attractive at all. I like my women fully clothed. I like to imagine what might be under there. It might not be the standard thing. Imagine, stripping a woman down, and she has a body like a little submarine. With periscope, propellers, torpedoes. That would be the one for me. I'd marry her right off and be faithful to the end.

What a woman wants is a reaction. What a man wants is a woman.

it is so dark now with the sadness of people they were tricked, they were taught to expect the ultimate when nothing is promised now young girls weep alone in small rooms old men angrily swing their canes at visions as ladies comb their hair as ants search for survival history surrounds us and our lives slink away in shame.

we should have known. maybe we wanted cotton candy luck. maybe we believed. what trash. we believed like dogs believe.

death arrived on schedule on a Sunday afternoon, and, as always, it was easier than we thought it would be.

The girls looked good from a distance, the sun shining through their dresses, their hair. But get up close and listen to their minds running out of their mouths, you felt like digging in under a hill and hiding out with a tommy-gun.

I can taste her in the air, I can feel her at my fingertips, I can see sidewalks built for her feet to walk upon, I can see pillows for her head, I can feel my waiting laughter, I can see her petting a cat, I can see her sleeping, I can see her slippers on the floor. I know that she exists but where is she upon this earth.

that boy was ready for his life to come, he would undoubtedly be highly successful, the lying little prick.

Nothing like beautiful legs. 'Cause with beautiful legs, even if you've been there only once or twice, there might be something up there besides the cunt, there might be something really marvellous this time - it could be a cunt, but it could be - it's just something about looking at the legs just makes you - I'm not saying there's anything wrong with the cunt, I'm just saying, you always imagine - some extra magic when you're looking at the outside portion of the female.

They're waiting for you to say all these grand statements, you know? You march across the room and you're supposed to say 'DEATH HAS TWELVE WINGS LIKE THE ANGEL OF HELL!' but people aren't built that way. You can only say 'Hey, uh, baby, why don't ya' make me a cup of coffee?

Roy had communicated, days earlier, to the Zen master that I was a drunk - unreliable - either faint-hearted or vicious - therefore during the cerimony, don't ask Bukowski for the rings because Bukowski might not be there. or he might loose the rings, or vomit, or loose Bukowski

The public is fortunate. Everything pleases them: icecream cones, rock concerts, singing, swinging, love, hate, masturbation, hot dogs, country dances, Jesus Christ, roller skating, spiritualism, capitalism, communism, circumcision, comic strips, Bob Hope, skiing, fishing murder bowling debating, anything. They don't expect much and they don't get much. They are one grand gang.

The kids sit about sipping at their coffees and waiting for it to happen. It isn't going to happen.

But I gave the girl my address and phone number, thinking we might make it on the springs. (Harriet, you never arrived.)

I am waiting to live, waiting to die.

Old ladies standing in halls, up and down the streets, asking the same question as if they were one person with one voice: "Mailman, you got any mail for me?" And you felt like screaming, "Lady, how the hell do I know who you are or I am or anybody is?

I was waiting for something extraordinary to happen but as the years wasted on nothing ever did, unless I caused it.

I decided to put on my new suit and go out and find a woman, a beautiful one, of course, to support a man of my still-hidden talents.

Things will be far worse than they are now. And far better. I wait.

So," said Sarah, "those are your readers?" "That's most of them, I think." "Don't any intelligent people read you?" "I hope so.

I am watching a girl dressed in a light green sweater, blue shorts, long black stockings; there is a necklace of some sort but her breasts are small, poor thing, and she watches her nails as her dirty white dog sniffs the grass in erratic circles; a pigeon is there too, circling, half dead with a tick of a brain and I am upstairs in my underwear, 3 day beard, pouring a beer and waiting for something literary or symphonic to happen;

The whole college scene was soft. They never told you what to expect out there in the real world. They just crammed you with theory and never told you hard the pavements were. A college education could destroy an individual for life. Books could make you soft. When you put them down, and really went out there, then you needed to know what they never told you.

La muerte les llega a los que esperan y a los que no.

They arrived in 20 minutes with the cleavage but without the beer.