Nick Yetto > Quotes

“I thought of something Puppa used to say. "The human brain can only contain thirty years of memory. Ten years of childhood. Ten years of adolescence. Ten years of early adulthood. After that, it's all as one day, and that day is spent solely in reflection.”
― Nick Yetto, Sommelier of Deformity

“Puppa had saved me again—this time, by way of fart.”
― Nick Yetto, Sommelier of Deformity

“He'd clearly tapped into something: into a longing, held in the bosom of every New Yorker, to get out of New York City! I realized the power of this theme and adapted it to my purpose.”
― Nick Yetto, Sommelier of Deformity

“…but that person—the one you’re reminded of—isn’t really dead to you. They won’t be for years. Then, one day, and for no reason at all, you think, I wonder how ol’ John is doing? And you realize. John is dead.”
― Nick Yetto, Sommelier of Deformity

“The closest I've come to having a "real job" has been in a recurring nightmare. It goes like this. I'm lost in a maze of office cubicles. Each cubicle contains a stylish hipster, a stylish Macintosh computer, and one of those big rubber balls that people use for abdominal workouts. The hipsters sit atop the balls as if the balls were chairs, and they plug XO, XO, XO, XO into their keyboards, populating the fields of never-ending spreadsheets. The hipsters are all identical. They wear black polos. Their gelled hair is unkempt in a contrived way. Strange oily tattoos decorate their arms like runes. I know that they are slim and handsome, but try as I may, I can never see their faces. I wander the maze, looking for a cube of my own, but they are all occupied by the same infinite hipster, the same infinite Macintosh, the same infinite ab ball.”
― Nick Yetto, Sommelier of Deformity

“I was in the present tense of a cherished memory, and I knew it, and I took care to savor every moment.”
― Nick Yetto, Sommelier of Deformity

“New Yorkers are obsessed with dogs. Creepily so. It has to do with delayed child-rearing, suppressed maternal/paternal instincts; the requisite self-denials of the modern striver.”
― Nick Yetto, Sommelier of Deformity

“I'm terrified of the working world, yet work I must. Free of toil, a man is nothing, and hollow is the life devoted to soft leisure. There are also bills to pay.”
― Nick Yetto, Sommelier of Deformity

“Dreams. Always of being; of being something other than what we are. "Being a writer," in my case. Time passes. The veneer of youthful possibility wears away, exposing the truths that youth is blind to. Dreams are dropped. Those that remain are converted into quests. Mine: a quest for meaning. The construction of this novel is the act that guides my life. It's the foundation that my days are built on. There's a paradox in this. In my pursuit of meaning, I destroy the thing that provides it. Word by word. Sentence by sentence. At last, the final punctuation, the end, and a small death that portends our final estate in the void.
It's also a pleasant hobby.”
― Nick Yetto, Sommelier of Deformity