I'm not interested in those who do me wrong. There's not enough time in the day for them.

So apart from writing letters home to your fantasy girlfriends,"Ben says, walking backwards, "what do you guys do out here without television and phones?" "Men's business. Bit confidential," Griggs says patronisingly. "Wow, wish I were you," Ben says, shaking his head with mock regret. "All I'll be doing tonight is hanging out in Taylor's bedroom, lying on her bed, sharing my earphones with her, hoping she won't hog all the room because it's such a tiny space.

It is what a man does for strangers that counts more than what he does for his family.

Everything hurts, every single thing including the weight of him and I'm crying because it hurts and he's telling me he's sorry over and over again, and I figure somewhere down the track we'll work out the right way of doing this but I don't want to let go, because tonight I'm not looking for anything more than being a part of him. Because being a part of him isn't just anything. It's kind of everything.

I want to be sitting in front of my computer, where you can press a button to block out your junk mail. These two are my junk mail.

If I want more, I need to go and get it, demand it, take hold of it with all my might, and do the best I can with it.

I'm sick and tired of you people living interstate and overseas from people you want to be with. You're ruining my life! All of you!