All I can guess is that when I write, I forget that it's not real. I'm living the story, and I think people can read that sincerity about the characters. They are real to me while I'm writing them, and I think that makes them real to the readers as well.

Bella, there's a part of you that loves me.

How easy it must be when you had no secrets from the person you lived with." - Eclipse, page 208

It won't be the same for me," I whispered, half to myself. "You won't let me be like that. We'll live in Antarctica." Edward snorted, breaking the tension. "Penguins. Lovely.

Here's to responsibility," he toasted. "Twice a week." "And recklessness every day in between," I emphasized. He grinned and touched his can to mine.

I could really appreciate him now - could properly see every beautiful line of his perfect face, of his long, flawless body with my strong new eyes, every angle and every plane of him. I could taste his pure, vivid scent on my tongue and feel the unbelievable silkiness of his marble skin under my sensitive fingertips.

She reminded me of what it did to her when I left — what it still does to her when I leave. She feels horrible about bringing that up, but she’s right. I’ll never be able to make up for that, but I’ll never stop trying anyway.