“Sometimes, fact mixed with fiction so thoroughly that, though no lies were told, it was hard to remember what was strictly true.”

“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?”

“What's so funny?" Bella mumbled."I got food in her hair," I told her, chortling again."I'm not going to forget this, dog," Rosalie hissed."S'not so hard to erase a blond's memory," I countered. "Just blow in her ear."Get some new jokes, "Rosalie snapped.”

“But suddenly something sharp was cutting me, my throat, my wrists, my ankles. I screamed in shock, thinking he'd brought me there to hurt me more. Then fire started burning through me, and I didn't care about anything else. I begged him to kill me. When Esme and Edward came home, I begged them to kill me too. Carlise sat with me. He held my hand and said that he was so sorry, promising that it would end. He told me everything, and sometimes I listened. He told me what he was, what I was becoming. I didn't believe him. He apologized each time I screamed. Edward wasn't happy. I remember hearing them discuss me. I stopped screaming sometimes. It did no good to scream.”

“Forbidden to remember, terrified to forget; it was a hard line to walk.”

“She looked around herself, disoriented, like she’d forgotten we were at lunch. Like she’d forgotten we were even at school-surprised that we were not alone in some private place. I understood that feeling exactly. It was hard to remember the rest of the world when I was with her.”

“It's his own fault he doesn't like the things I remember, though.”