I can never drive my car over a bridge without thinking of suicide. I can never look at a lake or an ocean without thinking of suicide.
Charles BukowskiRead
I will remember the kisses our lips raw with love and how you gave me everything you had and how I offered you what was left of me, and I will remember your small room the feel of you the light in the window your records your books our morning coffee our noons our nights our bodies spilled together sleeping the tiny flowing currents immediate and forever your leg my leg your arm my arm your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote reflects on the deep emotional connection and intimate moments shared with a loved one.
In this quote, Charles Bukowski poignantly captures the essence of love through vivid imagery and intimate memories. He recalls the small yet significant moments spent with his partner, emphasizing the raw emotions felt during their love-making and the warmth derived from their physical and emotional closeness. The details, from shared kisses to the simple act of enjoying coffee together, highlight how love encompasses both the grand and the mundane, leaving a lasting imprint on our hearts.
Themes
LoveMemoriesIntimacyConnectionEmotion
In practice
Example use cases
During a wedding speech to celebrate enduring love.
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I'm going to open another vottle. not a vottle, but a bottle. you open it and I'll drink it. and you try to write as much as I did without falling off of your chair.
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To experience real agony is something hard to write about, impossible to understand while it grips you; you're frightened out of your wits, can’t sit still, move, or even go decently insane.
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I lapsed into my pathetic cut-off period. Often with humans, both good and bad, my senses simply shut off, they get tired, I give up. I am polite. I nod. I pretend to understand because I don’t want anybody to be hurt. That is the one weakness that has lead me into the most trouble. Trying to be kind to others I often get my soul shredded into a kind of spiritual pasta. No matter. My brain shuts off. I listen. I respond. And they are too dumb to know that I am not there.
Charles BukowskiRead
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