Stephenie Meyer Quotes - Page 25

"What are you thinking?" he asked curiously. I looked up into his deep gold eyes, became befuddled, and, as usual, blurted out the truth. "I'm trying to figure out what you are."

“Bella, I've already expended a great deal of personal effort at this point to keep you alive. I'm not about to let you behind the wheel of a vehicle when you can't even walk straight. Besides, friends don't let friends drive drunk,” he quoted with a chuckle. I could smell the unbearably sweet fragrance coming off his chest. “Drunk?” I objected. “You're intoxicated by my very presence.” He was grinning that playful smirk again.

Your hair looks like a haystack...but I like it.

It was a strange combination to absorb - the everyday concerns of the town doctor stuck in the middle of a discussion of his early days in seventeenth-century London.

I wanted the monster back and that was plainly wrong.

It's been almost a century that Edward's been alone. Now he's found you. You can't see the changes we see, we who have been with him for so long. Do you think any of us want to look into his eyes for the next hundred years if he loses you?

So, instead of panicking, I closed my eyes and spent the twenty minutes' drive with Edward. I imagined that I had stayed at the airport to meet Edward. I visualized how I would stand on my toes, the sooner to see his face. How quickly, how gracefully he would move through the crowds of people separating us. And then I would run to close those last few feet between us - reckless as always - and I would be in his marble arms, finally safe.

Is my mom all right?" "She's perfectly fine. don't worry, Bella, I have no quarrel with her. Unless you didn't come alone, of course." Light, amused. "I'm alone." I'd never been more alone in my entire life.

The sun was hot on my skin, too bright as it bounced off the white concrete and blinded me. I felt dangerously exposed. More fiercely than I would have dreamed I was capable of, I wished for the green, protective forest of Forks . . . of home.

Is the fire gone?" "Yes," I sighed. "Thank you, Edward." "I love you," he answered. "I know," I breathed, so tired. I heard my favorite sound in the world: Edward's quiet laugh, weak with relief.

I can't always be Lois Lane," I insisted. "I want to be Superman, too.

A girl can dream." His eyebrows rose. "Is that what you dream about? Being a monster?" "Not exactly," I said, frowning at his word choice. Monster, indeed. "Mostly I dream about being with you forever.

Jealous, O’Shea?" "Actually… I am.

Her name is Wanda, not it. You will not touch her. Any mark you leave on her, I will double on your worthless hide.

Alice! You know I love you like a sister!" "Words." she growled.

Stop being so...optimistic, its getting on my nerves." "No problem. Do you want me to be all gloom and doom or just shut up?" "Just shut up." "Can do." "Really? Doesn't seem like it." -Jacob and seth

The absence of him is everywhere I look.

"Aren't you hungry?" he asked, distracted. "No." I didn't feel like mentioning that my stomach was already full - of butterflies.

“Don't be offended, but you seem to be one of those people who just attract accidents like a magnet. So... try not to fall into the ocean or get run over or anything, all right?” He smiled crookedly. The helplessness had faded as he spoke. I glared at him. “I'll see what I can do,” I snapped as I jumped out into the rain. I slammed the door behind me with excessive force. He was still smiling as he drove away.

Because when I thought of him, of his voice, his hypnotic eyes, the magnetic force of his personality, I wanted nothing more than to be with him right now.

It was amazing how instantaneously the choking fear vanished, amazing how suddenly the feeling of security washed over me - even before I was off the street - as soon as I heard his voice.

It makes me . . . anxious . . . to be away from you.

And then, as the room went black, I was suddenly hyperaware that Edward was sitting less than an inch from me. I was stunned by the unexpected electricity that flowed through me, amazed that it was possible to be more aware of him than I already was. A crazy impulse to reach over and touch him, to stroke his perfect face just once in the darkness, nearly overwhelmed me. I crossed my arms tightly across my chest, my hands balling into fists. I was losing my mind.

He raised his hand, hesitant, conflict raging in his eyes, and then swiftly brushed the length of my cheekbone with his fingertips. His skin was as icy as ever, but the trail his fingers left on my skin was alarmingly warm - like I'd been burned, but didn't feel the pain of it yet.

It must be a hard thing, to be a father; living in fear that your daughter would meet a boy she liked, but also having to worry if she didn't.