musevault asked: i know this is really obscure, but i'm looking for some quote or poem where bukowski talks about crowds. i cant remember what book or the exact wording, but he talks about how you get nothing out of talking to a group of men together. they act pompously to impress each other and hide vulnerability and they're aren't genuine. but you talk to one man alone, and you get a human. you get something real. does this sound familiar at all?

anyone?