When I was 8, I was reading 'Gone with the Wind' and 'Pride and Prejudice' and all that, not knowing it wasn't my reading level.

Sister, they send you out for one and you bring back two... and a half. Such a clever girl.

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

I feel like humor is a part of life. I don't think it comes through as much in the novels as it does in my head.

The only parents in the world who don’t need sleep, and our child already sleeps through the night. Edward Cullen, Breaking Dawn, Chapter 22, p.429

Don't be self-conscious, if I could dream at all, it would be about you. And I'm not ashamed of it.

What was it that made this human love so much more desirable to me than the love of my own kind? Was it because it was exclusive and capricious? The souls offered love and acceptance to all. Did I crave a greater challenge?...Or was it simply better somehow? Because these humans hate with so much fury, was the other end of the spectrum that they could love with more heart and zeal and fire?