His gift is slower than Jane's. It creeps. It will touch us in a few seconds.

What's funny about that is when I was writing Twilight just for myself and not thinking of it as a book, I was not thinking about publishing, and yet at the same time I was casting it in my head. Because when I read books, I see them very visually.

Thank you, Wanda. My sister. I will never forget you. Be happy, Mel. Enjoy it all. Appreciate it for me.

Who are you and what have you done with my brother?

She looked around herself, disoriented, like she’d forgotten we were at lunch. Like she’d forgotten we were even at school-surprised that we were not alone in some private place. I understood that feeling exactly. It was hard to remember the rest of the world when I was with her.

I am Switzerland. I refuse to be affected by territorial disputes between mythical creatures.

Eight full lives,” I whispered against his jaw, my voice breaking. “Eight full lives and I never found anyone I would stay on a planet for, anyone I would follow when they left. I never found a partner. Why now? Why you? You're not of my species. How can you be my partner?” “It's a strange universe,” he murmured. “It's not fair,” I complained, echoing Sunny's words. It wasn't fair. How could I find this, find love–now, in this eleventh hour–and have to leave it? Was it fair that my soul and body couldn't reconcile? Was it fair that I had to love Melanie, too?