“Every day I woke up saying "If I die....", not realising how dead I was already, and only a memory tagging along with Delores and Pepe... Wherever they were: I grieved for Pepe, not because I'd lost him (yes, that a little), but because in the end I knew Delores would find him, too: it is easy to escape daylight, but night is inevitable, and dreams are the giant cage.”

“Of course I tensed up when he touched me. To be with him was to hurt him-inevitably. And that's what I'd felt as he reached for me: I'd felt as though I were committing an act of violence against him, because I was.”

“So of course I tensed up when he touched me. To be with him was to hurt him- inevitably. And that's what I'd felt as he reached for me: I'd felt as though I were committing an act of violence against him, because I was.”

“Only now that my son was gone did I realize how much I'd been living for him. When I woke up in the morning it was because he existed, and when I ordered food it was because he existed, and when I wrote my book it was because he existed to read it.”

“I knew that I would know more dead people. The bodies pile up. Could there be a space in my memory for each of them, or would I forget a little of Alaska every day for the rest of my life?”

“Thanks, Pepe. You've put an extra night into my life. I would have spent it just sleeping like an ox, but I've lived it instead. I'm grateful.”