“Perhaps," said the man, "you would like to be lost with us. I have found it much more agreeable to be lost in the company of others.”

“He is not my focus," Diana told writer Rodney Tyler of Arne. "He’s my husband, my companion, my lover, my confidant. But not my focus. I wasn’t lost, then found by Arne. I was single and met a wonderful man and we enjoyed each other’s company and enjoyed our times together. So it was not lost and found. That’s crap. I have never been lost.”

“The pen will never be able to move fast enough to write down every word discovered in the space of memory. Some things have been lost forever, other things will perhaps be remembered again, and still other things have been lost and found and lost again. There is no way to be sure of any this.”

“Where else? I belong to a lost generation and am comfortable only in the company of others who are lost and lonely.”

“If I’d been there, I might have been able to do something. But I wasn’t, and I lost them.”“And if you’d been there,” Ty said softly, “I would have lost you.”

“Even though I'm seventeen, I guess I still thought this would always be true - that there would always be that lost-and-found, and not the lost-and-still-lost that I am now trapped inside.”