You make your own kinds of mistakes, and I’m sure you’ll have your share of regrets in life. But commitment was never your problem, sweetie. You have a better chance of making this work than most forty-year-olds I know. My little middle-aged child. Luckily, you seem to have found another old soul.
I don’t care about anything but keeping her alive. If it’s a child she wants, she can have it. She can have half a dozen babies. Anything she wants. She can have puppies, if that’s what it takes.
For a second I was just a kid – a kid who had lived all of his life in the same tiny town. Just a child. Because I knew I would have to live a lot more, suffer a lot more, to ever understand the searing agony in Edward’s eyes.
How sad. How frightening. To be filled with so much hate that you could not even rejoice in the healing of a child...How did anyone ever come to that point?
I didn't want to be the monster! I didn't want to kill this room full of harmless children! I didn't want to lose everything I'd gained in a lifetime of sacrifice and denial!
The only parents in the world who don’t need sleep, and our child already sleeps through the night. Edward Cullen, Breaking Dawn, Chapter 22, p.429
Children in the abstract, had never appealed to me. They seemed to be loud creatures, often dripping some form of goo.
As a child, I actually wanted to be a lawyer. That was the goal. I didn't plan to be an author, and then even less, did I plan to produce movies. It all just happened.
