“I had to put away my toy so it didn’t get lost. After all, cats can’t read maps or ask for directions, and they don’t possess GPS.”

“After I pulled in, I decided in my typical fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants fashion that if anyone asked, I was going to be "lost." I hoped no one would have the opportunity to look in the car. Lost and a fancy GPS system didn't go together.”

“Some people have this sort of built-in GPS, a bit like cats. You can drop them anywhere and they can find their way home. Not me. I get lost in IKEA.”

“I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want this – that I don’t want you. I can’t. Not after what happened to you. It thought… I thought I’d lost you, Alex, forever. And I would’ve lost everything. You are my everything.”

“You don’t deserve me. Why should I waste my time on some bratty little whore who only wants someone to beat him until he can get off without guilt, huh? Someone who can’t follow a simple fucking direction. You don’t even want what I’m offering! You don’t want to find yourself; you want to get lost.” Devon stalked to the closet, grabbed Nicky’s coat, and hurled it at him. “So get lost.”

“the bus timetable sites are all run by an inbred cabal of malicious gnomes. Who don’t speak English. And who don’t count very well either. Or tell time. And they certainly can’t read maps.”