Always ask for the truth. Just make sure the time is right.

But sometimes stuff happens and we find ourselves lost, and suddenly we're standing in a place we don't recognize and can't remember walking-or falling-there, and we're unsure how to get back or if we even want to.

I've never walked home wearing just a pink robe and a pair of slippers.

I can handle scars, especially one's on the outside.

One of the stall doors swings open and a fortyish-year-old woman walks out tucking her shirt into her jeans. Her heavy lined eyes land on Seth. "This is the women's restroom." She points a finger to the door. "Can't you read?" "Can't you see that everyone in this club is about twenty years younger than you?" Seth retorts, turning to the mirror. With his pinkie, he messes with bangs. "Now if you'll excuse us, we're going to have some fun.

You think that just because you left, it would change how I feel? Well, guess what? You're wrong. I can't help how I feel. I'm still in-

Just because it's broken doesn't mean it loses its importance.