It won't be the same for me," I whispered, half to myself. "You won't let me be like that. We'll live in Antarctica." Edward snorted, breaking the tension. "Penguins. Lovely.

I was like a lost moon―my planet destroyed in some cataclysmic, disaster-movie scenario of desolation―that continued, nevertheless, to circle in a tight little orbit around the empty space left behind, ignoring the laws of gravity.

It felt almost rude to ignore toe pretty white bed, but we just weren’t going to make it that far.

Good or Bad? Good. That's what I thought

There s a difference between being in love and being in love with the idea of love.

The thing people don't realize, God bless them, is that my books are supposed to suck.

no one had to tell me anything. I know what I am