It's easier to come up with new stories than it is to finish the ones you already have. I think every author would feel that way.

Don't let anyone tell you that high school is supposed to be fun. High school is to be endured. College is fun.

After a few decades, everyone you know will be dead. Problem solved.

Just because I’m resisting the wine doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the bouquet.

I tried to concentrate on the angel's voice instead. "Bella, please! Bella, listen to me, please, please, please, Bella, please!" he begged. Yes, I wanted to say. Anything. But I couldn't find my lips. "Carlisle!" the angel called, agony in his perfect voice. "Bella, Bella, no, oh please, no, no!" And the angel was sobbing tearless, broken sobs. The angel shouldn't weep, it was wrong. I tried to find him, to tell him everything was fine, but the water was so deep, it was pressing on me, and I couldn't breathe.

Amazing," Edward muttered. "How can someone so tiny be so annoying?" Alice laughed. "It's a talent.

It was all very childish. Why on earth should Edward have to leave for Jacob to come over? Weren't we past this immaturity?