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

I like the night. Without the dark, we'd never see the stars.

He sighed. "The clouds I can handle. But I can't fight with an eclipse.

Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?" Jacob Black New Moon

Who are you and what have you done with my brother?

My life was an unending, unchanging midnight. It must, by necessity, always be midnight for me. So how was it possible that the sun was rising now, in the middle of my midnight?

You're not the center of the universe, you know.

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

He's like a drug for you, Bella. I see that you can't live without him now. It's too late. But I would have been healthier for you. Not a drug; I would have been the air, the sun.

There was no reason for Bella Swan to cross paths with me. She would be avoided like the plague she was.

My last night as Isabella Swan. Tomorrow night, I would be Bella Cullen. Though the whole marriage ordeal was a thorn in my side, I had to admit that I liked the sound of that. - bella swan

I can’t help but to wonder with my thoughts.

You’re the kind of girl who deserves way more than a one-night stand.

The tragedy of life is not death, but fearing to live, allowing parts of us to wilt and die instead of flower and rejoice.

He was my first boyfriend, and I made him my everything - he was my new life, my new love, my new compass point. I guess that's the danger with firsts - you lose all sense of proportion.

Geraldo has returned to the states. See? I told you airline security was a joke.

It is in love with its limitless horizontality, as New York may be with its verticality.

Why does everybody thing things are always contractual? I saw a shitload of questions and thought "better keep these answers short or I'll never get to all of these".

Sometimes I wish my first word was 'quote,' so that on my death bed, my last words could be 'end quote.'

We can no more enjoy life by hoping for a future result than we can enjoy music by waiting for the final note.

Some days in late August at home are like this, the air thin and eager like this, with something in it sad and nostalgic and familiar.