“After all, what was more important, in the end, than love?”

Driving at the speed limit–hideous thought.

Look after my heart – I’ve left it with you.

Why didn’t I just walk away? Oh right, because I’m a idiot.

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?

The story was a sleeping girl in a narrow bed Dark hair thick and wild and twisted like seaweed across the pillow.

Edward: It wasn’t the worst night of my life. Jake: Did it make the top ten? Edward: Possibly. But, if I had been able to take your place last night, it would not have made the top ten of the best nights of my life. Dream about that.

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

Hate is a passionate emotion.

I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful.

I had never given much thought to how I would die, but dying in the place of someone I love doesn’t seem like such a bad way to go.

You want me to be all doom and gloom, or just shut up?

Edward helped, making faces every so often at the raw ingredients-human food was mildly repulsive to him.

Funny how it kept hitting me, like each new thing was a surprise. When was I going to stop being surprised?

Forever, he vowed, still a little staggered.That’s all I’m asking for, I said.

I’m not like a car you can fix up. I’m never gonna run right.

When he left, you spent all your energy holding on to him. You could be happy if you let go.

Count Basie practically adopted me at 13. We became closer and closer and I ended up conducting for him and Sinatra.

God’s words trump all opinions, including mine, and in the end, I believe God’s words lead to life.

I’m holding on so tightly to the promise that if nothing lasts forever, someday, this sadness will end too.

Every day we keep telling the same stories. Over and over. We forget that our endings can be different. So can the plot. I think it’s time for some surprise endings.

So what if you end up buying a size 6 instead of a 4? You can always cut out the label at home, and you’ll pretty soon forget whatever that number was because you’ll be too busy admiring how fantastic you look.

Now is the moment that never ends.

If you get the dirty end of the stick, sharpen it and turn it into a useful tool.

I am enslaved to my work, always wanting the impossible, and never, I believe, have I been less favoured by the endlessly changeable weather.