“Isn't it supposed to be like this?" He smiled. "The glory of first love, and all that. It's incredible, isn't it, the difference between reading about something, seeing it in the pictures, and experiencing it?""Very different," I agreed. "More forceful than I'd imagined.”

“He smiled halfheartedly. Then he frowned. "But isn't it more dangerous than that? In all the stories, they say that it's too hard. . . they lose control. . . people die. . ”

“So many different kinds of love, harmonious in this one moment. It seemed a very hopeful picture to me.”

“Maybe, if I were very, very, very lucky, I would somehow be able to save Edward. But I wasn't so stupid as to think that saving him would mean that I could stay with him. I was no different, no more special than I'd been before. There would be no new reason for him to want me now. Seeing him and losing him again . . .I fought back against the pain. This was the price I had to pay to save his life. I would pay it.”

“There s a difference between being in love and being in love with the idea of love.”

“He was a different Edward than the one I had known. And I felt all the more besotted by him. It would cause me physical pain to be separated from him now.”

“And then I saw the way he looked at her... like he was a blind man, seeing the sun for the very first time.”