I flicked on the light beside my bed, waiting for my breathing to slow, veins full of adrenaline from the realistic dream. A new dream, but in essence so much the same as the many others that had plagued me in the past months. No, not a dream. Surely a memory. I could still feel the heat of Jared's lips on mine. My hands reached out without my permission, searching across the rumpled sheets, looking for something they didn't find. My heart ached when they gave up, falling to the bed limp and empty.

It's not the face, but the expressions on it. It's not the voice, but what you say. It's not how you look in that body, but the thing you do with it. You are beautiful.

If you don’t send Edward out,” Emmett—still invisible in the night—hissed menacingly, “we’re coming in after him!” “Go,” I laughed. “Before they break my house.

I couldn’t get the words exactly right; I only remembered wishing that Jacob were my brother so that we could love each other without any confusion or pain.

It's like pain, this pleasure.

It never made sense for you to love me.

Her existence alone was excuse enough to justify the creation of the entire world.