Stephenie Meyer Quotes - Page 3

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.

Who gives an island as a gift? I frowned. I hadn’t realized Edward’s extreme generosity was a learned behavior. Bella

Life and love go on.

Like we were connected, the echo of his pain twisted inside inside me. his pain, my pain.

I, the soul named Wanderer, love you, human Ian and that will never change no matter what I might become. If I were a Dolphin or a Bear or a Flower, it wouldn't matter. I would always love you, always remember you. You will be my only partner." - Wanda, The Host

I felt like I was trapped in one of those terrifying nightmares, the one where you have to run, run till your lungs burst, but you can't make your body move fast enough... But this was no dream, and, unlike the nightmare, I wasn't running for my life: I was racing to save something infinitely more precious. My own life meant little to me today.

You think of me as a... living stone - hard and cold. That's true. We are set the way we are, and it is very rare for us to experience a real change. When that happens, as when Bella entered my life, it is a permanent change. There's no going back.

You are my life. You're the only thing it would hurt to lose.

You're intoxicated by my very presence.

I used to think of you that way, you know. Like the sun. My personal sun. You balanced out the clouds nicely for me." He sighed. "The clouds I can handle. But I can't fight with an eclipse.

But what if...what if you sincerely believed something was true, but you were dead wrong? What if you were so stubbornly sure that you were right, that you wouldn’t even consider the truth? Would the truth be silenced, or would it try to break through?

Bella: "I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not." Edward: "And I should feel sorry that you're not sorry, but I don't.

I love you," I said in a low, intense voice. "I will always love you, no matter what happens now.

As long as you like me the best. And you think I’m good-looking—sort of. I’m prepared to be annoyingly persistent.

How old are you?” she asked. My answer was automatic and ingrained. “Seventeen.” “And how long have you been seventeen?” I tried not to smile at the patronizing tone. “A while,” I admitted. “Okay,” she said, abruptly enthusiastic. She smiled up at me.

By the way, I love you.” “That’s why we're here.

I thought I'd explained it clearly before. Bella, I can't live in a world where you don't exist.

I believe that. But I want you to know something — when it comes to all this enemies nonsense, I’m out. I am a neutral country. I am Switzerland. I refuse to be affected by territorial disputes between mythical creatures. Jacob is family. You are . . . well, not exactly the love of my life, because I expect to love you for much longer than that. The love of my existence. I don’t care who’s a werewolf and who’s a vampire. If Angela turns out to be a witch, she can join the party, too.

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.

It will be as if I'd never existed. The words ran through my head, lacking the perfect clarity of my hallucination last night. They were just words, soundless, like print on a page. Just words, but they ripped the hole wide open, and I stomped on the brake, knowing I should not drive while this incapacitated. I curled over, pressing my face against the steering wheel and trying to breathe without lungs.

You think I should be as forgiving as you are? We can’t all be saints and martyrs.

He put his cold hands on either side of my face and fixed his golden eyes on mine. "Would you please tell me what you're thinking? Before I go mad?

Happy and sad, elated and miserable, secure and afraid, loved and denied, patient and angry, peaceful and wild, complete and empty...all of it. I would feel everything. It would all be mine.

But on a clear, sunny day? How would she know to flee when she couldn't see any place for danger to hide?

He leaned over to kiss the top of my head, and then groaned. I looked at him, puzzled. "You smell so good in the rain," he explained. "In a good way, or in a bad way?" I asked cautiously. He sighed. "Both, always both.