Um, Bella? You've got a huge cut on your forehead, and it's gushing blood," he informed me. I clapped my hand over my head. Sure enough, it was wet and sticky. I could smell nothing but the damp moss on my face, and that held off the nausea. Oh, I'm so sorry, Jacob." I pushed hard against the gash, as if I could force the blood back inside my head. Why are you apologizing for bleeding?" he wondered as he wrapped a long arm around my waist and and pulled me to my feet.

I had never given much thought to how I would die, but dying in the place of someone I love doesn't seem like such a bad way to go.

What do I look like? The Wizard of Oz? You need a brain? You need a heart? Go ahead, take mine. Take everything I have.

Why does Ian think I have to kiss you?

Sometimes I think you like me better as a wolf." "Sometimes I do. It probably has something to do with the way you CAN'T TALK.

That's not very attractive behavior, Bella." he said. " Forgiveness is divine. "Mind your own buisness.

But now you're unhappy," he pointed out. "And?" I challenged. "That doesn't seem fair." He shrugged, but his eyes were still intense. I laughed without humour. "Hasn't anyone told you? Life isn't fair." "I believe I have heard that somewhere before," he agreed dryly.