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: You licked my ear. I'd have bought a dog if I wanted my ear licked.
: Wilbur. When you were dead... what was it like? Wilbur
: Harbour, you've got a hangover. You're not going to die. Harbour
: Of course not. I know that. But what was it like? Wilbur
: What do you mean? Harbour
: Is there anything there? Is there some kind of huge white light? Wilbur
: It's as dull as ditchwater. There's nothing. Just blackness and utter silence. It's a bit like being in Wales.
: Horst. Is that German for "sausage"? Horst
: No. But it's close.
: It's a snowbeast.
: Wilbur, what do you think would happen, in a broad sociological sense, if we all went around killing ourselves? Wilbur
: There'd be no more group.
: You know, it gets more and more humiliating every time I survive. Why did you have to crash in? Why do you always stick your nose in? Harbour
: But you phoned!
: Where are you parents? Mary
: My mum's asleep. And my dad... doesn't exist.
: Are you in any way related to the man they called Horst? Horst
: I believe so, yes. Somewhere on my mother's side.