It's been almost a century that Edward's been alone. Now he's found you. You can't see the changes we see, we who have been with him for so long. Do you think any of us want to look into his eyes for the next hundred years if he loses you?

Hey, Rosalie? Do you know how to drown a blonde? Stick a mirror to the bottom of a pool.

I’d noticed that his eyes were black – coal black.

Once you cared about a person, it was impossible to be logical about them anymore.

As long as you like me the best. And you think I’m good-looking—sort of. I’m prepared to be annoyingly persistent.

I figured if I played nice, I’d get more time with you.

But on a clear, sunny day? How would she know to flee when she couldn't see any place for danger to hide?