So what you're saying is, I'm your brand of heroin?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood. He smiled swiftly, seeming to appreciate my effort. "Yes, you are exactly my brand of heroin.

It was nice to be alone, not to have to smile and look pleased; a relief to stare dejectedly out the window at the sheeting rain and let just a few tears escape.

Bella, would you please stop trying to take your clothes off?

For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency.

How did people do this - swallow all their fears and trust someone else so implicitly with every imperfection and fear they had.

In my head, Carlisle’s kind eyes did not judge me. I knew that he would forgive me for this horrible act that I would do. Because he loved me. Because he thought I was better than I was. And he would still love me, even as I now proved him wrong.

You stupid jackass," Ian said. "Who's got the crush on a worm, bro? You gonna call me stupid?