The story was a sleeping girl in a narrow bed Dark hair thick and wild and twisted like seaweed across the pillow... Bella's Lullaby

Do you truly believe that you care more for me than I do for you?" he murmured, leaning closer to me as he spoke, his dark golden eyes piercing. I tried to remember how to exhale. I had to look away before it came back to me. "You're doing it again," I muttered. His eyes opened wide with surprise. "What?" "Dazzling me," I admitted, trying to concentrate as I looked back at him. "Oh." He frowned. "It's not your fault," I sighed. "You can't help it.

I can’t be sure, of course, but I’d compare it to living on tofu and soy milk; we call ourselves vegetarians, our little inside joke. - Edward Cullen

But if you ever bring her back damaged again - and I don't care whose fault it is; I don't care if she merely trips, or if a meteor falls out of the sky and hits her in the head - if you return her to me in less than the perfect condition that I left her in, you will be running with three legs. Do you understand that, mongrel?

Try not to trip. We don’t have time for a concussion today.

It's not a good feeling--knowing that you profoundly deserve the title of monster. It's better to be kind than to feel guilty.

With our rarely changing temperaments strong emotions can alter us in permanent ways. But he said I did not need to worry about that part – you had already altered me so completely.