“Love is a form of prejudice. You love what you
need, you love what makes you feel good, you love what is convenient. How can
you say you love one person when there are ten thousand people in the world
that you would love more if you ever met them? But you'll never meet them. All
right, so we do the best we can. Granted. But we must still realize that love
is just the result of a chance encounter. Most people make too much of it. On
these grounds a good fuck is not to be entirely scorned. But that's the result
of a chance meeting too. You're damned right. Drink up. We'll have
another.”
by Charles Bukowski
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