How very inconvenient his little talent could be — when it wasn’t saving my life.

Honestly — I’ve seen corpses with better color. I was concerned that I might have to avenge your murder.

I wish you could feel the… complexity… the confusion… I feel. That you could understand.

Stupid, unreliable vampire.

Alice: You don’t get a lot of suicidal vampires.

And how long have you been seventeen?

And you accused me of dazzling people — poor Jacob Black.

In a few moments, there would be nothing left in me that would reflect the years I’d spent with my creator, my mentor, my father in all the ways that counted. My eyes would glow red as a devil’s; all likeness would be lost forever.

Edward Cullen, Midnight Sun

That was the first night I dreamed of Edward Cullen.

His face startled me — his expression was torn, almost pained, and so fiercely beautiful that the ache to touch him flared as strong as before. My goodbye stuck in my throat. He raised his hand, hesitant, conflict raging in his eyes, and then swiftly brushed the length of my cheekbone with his fingertips. His skin was as icy as ever, but the trail his fingers left on my skin was alarmingly warm — like I’d been burned, but didn’t feel the pain of it yet.