I couldn’t get the words exactly right; I only remembered wishing that Jacob were my brother so that we could love each other without any confusion or pain.

How old are you?” “Seventeen,” he answered promptly. “And how long have you been seventeen?” His lips twitched as he stared at the road. “A while,” he admitted at last.

Forever," Edward echoed in my ear. I couldn't speak anymore. I lifted my head and kissed him with a passion that might possibly set the forest on fire. I wouldn't have noticed.

Sometimes you have to learn to love what's good for you.

My first language, the true language of the soul spoken only on our planet of origin, had no word for betrayal or traitor. Or even loyalty- because without the opposite, the concept had no meaning.

What is a valid reason for someone to love someone else? Since apparently I’m doing it wrong.

Kiss me, Jacob. Kiss me, and then come back.