Patric Juillet > Quotes

“In ancient Greece, some people did that for a living. They would just sit on a tree branch or a stone bench and ponder, sometimes aloud. Some got answers and some got headaches. And now, in this new age of jet planes and pistachio ice-cream, we pondered over the same questions without getting the answers and maybe in five thousand years, some other kids will be sitting on roofs pondering the same all over again. Not far from the Shepherd’s star, there was a discreet star, one who didn’t shine too brightly. I had it named “Goddessa”. It was mine.”
― Patric Juillet, Memoirs of a Sardine lover

“it is my duty to report the following description, mainly because if ugliness was a sin, Madame Catina’s chances of reaching heaven would be as thin as the Catholic Church electing a Polish pope.”
― Patric Juillet, Memoirs of a Sardine lover

“The Gruyère cousins were waiters from a nearby village. It wasn’t their real name. Eloise had nicknamed them Gruyère because they were forgetful, you know, full of holes.”
― Patric Juillet, Memoirs of a Sardine lover

“           •   On dogs: dogs are cleverer than we think. Everything in their world is indexed and catalogued, taking no one and nothing for granted and giving as good as they get.”
― Patric Juillet, Memoirs of a Sardine lover

“But I knew this much: how could anyone with half a brain would want to live in a vast, cold place like Russia which was controlled by a few old farts in furry hats and where everyone was barred from owning his own house and having personal possessions, in a barren land without jazz, without Marilyn Monroe (I had become a huge fan after seeing Gentlemen Prefer Blondes), without Studebakers and skyscrapers, without Maria Callas (yes, she was born in New York, U.S.A.) and hot dogs (without ketchup)”
― Patric Juillet, Memoirs of a Sardine lover

“I took out the round, crusty bread and made a hole in the centre with my thumb. Then I opened the tin of sardines with the little key that came with it, carefully twisting it sideways, smartly avoiding the released oil spurt. I poured the contents into the hole in the bread, gently spreading the sardines in tomato sauce evenly with my Swiss knife. I took out the cotton napkin, folded it over the bread and pressed lightly for a few seconds. I was very fussy about sardines and I had my own set of rules on how to eat them. I removed the napkin and examined the bread from all sides, making sure that it was thoroughly soaked with the juice on the bottom while remaining crusty on top. Satisfied, l bit into it”
― Patric Juillet, Memoirs of a Sardine lover

“Crabs and medusas were my natural enemies. Crabs because I once got bitten on my bum as I had fallen asleep on a rock outside my cave”
― Patric Juillet, Memoirs of a Sardine lover

“           •   On dunces: in the old days, if you were found out to be a dunce on any given subject you would have been asked to don a donkey hat for an hour, and made to stand to the right of the blackboard with your back to the class, dodging an array of projectiles -bits of erasers, paper planes, dried snot balls et cetera- but nowadays, in startling contrast, you’d be invited to stand outside, in the cold hallway, thereby sharply decreasing your chances to learn anything of the lesson you were supposed to catch up on. Another triumph of modern thinking!”
― Patric Juillet, Memoirs of a Sardine lover

“The Holy Ghost? What was a Holy Ghost? A ghost with upper connections? A sacred linen sheet with holes for eyes that roamed around old castles trying to scare tourists? How would you have known if you had bumped into it?”
― Patric Juillet, Memoirs of a Sardine lover

“For too many questions there’s only one vague answer: God was everywhere (Martin once remarked: not in my undies!), accompanied by a thinly veiled threat: if you didn’t swallow the whole lot, you’d get your bum roasted at Satan’s grill.”
― Patric Juillet, Memoirs of a Sardine lover

“In short, I could be bought for a giant plate of sardines,”
― Patric Juillet, Memoirs of a Sardine lover

“what were you doing there at ten o’clock at night when all good Catholic boys are fast asleep?” “It was eleven o’clock, Father.” “Even worse!”
― Patric Juillet, Memoirs of a Sardine lover

“and Fanfan, a single pen must be used, you understand what I’m saying?” “Yes, Monsieur Noiraud,” I said. I knew very well what he meant, for I had the singular distinction of being known throughout the school for having devised the Fanfan Super-Pen©: I would align and glue together three, sometimes four pens together and use that contraption for copying lines in record time.”
― Patric Juillet, Memoirs of a Sardine lover