"It's not the large tragedies that moil us to pieces - we are fucking well ready for those. It's the little scratchings and drippings, the continuous stubbing of the toes and elbows, the car that won't start, the piece of tooth that breaks off as you are biting into a peach, dirty stockings, a sudden face in the market goring your peace like a bull, a ring in the bathtub, constipation, insomnia, a dirty newspaper, toothpaste too sweet, a fingernail flipping back and ripping from the finger...these things again and again, the similar small biting donnybrook continuous hail...these tear us to the final pieces. ah ha."
-Charles Bukowski, 1967
From Charles Bukowski Selected Letters, Volume 2: 1965-1970
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