I’m not used to feeling so human. Is it always like this?

Do you think that if I ran him over with my truck he would stop feeling guilty about the accident? That he might give up on making amends and call it even?

Our relationship couldn’t continue to balance, as it did, on the point of a knife. We would fall off one edge or the other, depending entirely upon his decision, or his instincts. My decision was made, made before I’d ever consciously chosen, and I was committed to seeing it through. Because there was nothing more terrifying to me, more excruciating, than the thought of turning away from him. It was an impossibility.

I don’t want to be a monster.

Stupid, shiny Volvo owner.

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About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second, there was part of him — and I didn’t know how potent that part might be — that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.

Kryptonite doesn’t bother me, either.

I hear voices in my mind and you’re worried that you’re the freak.

I knew at any moment it could be too much, and my life could end — so quickly that I might not even notice. And I couldn’t make myself be afraid. I couldn’t think of anything, except that he was touching me.

Would you understand what I meant if I said I was only human?