No one dressed by me ever looks like an idiot.

Hard to feel confident when you’re surrounded by horse-sized wolves. Emmett Cullen, Breaking Dawn, Chapter 39, p.745

All I can guess is that when I write, I forget that it's not real. I'm living the story, and I think people can read that sincerity about the characters. They are real to me while I'm writing them, and I think that makes them real to the readers as well.

Perhaps there could be no joy on this planet without an equal weight of pain to balance it out on some unknown scale.

I struggled to find the words to name the feelings that flooded through me, but I had no words strong enough to hold them. For a long moment, I drowned in them. When I surfaced, I was not the same man I had been. My life was an unending, unchanging midnight. It must, by necessity, always be midnight for me. So how was it possible that the sun was rising now, in the middle of my midnight?

We did not hope for the same things, but we all hoped.

The irresponsible mother helped explain bella's maturity. She'd had to grow up early, to become the caretaker. That's why she didn't like being cared for- she felt it was her job.