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Over my pile of ashes

Stephenie Meyer

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Stephenie Meyer
Age: 50
Born: 1973
Born: December 24
Actor
Businessperson
Film Producer
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
Writer
Hartford
Connecticut
Stephenie Morgan Meyer
Pile
Ashes

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If we had happy endings, we’d all be under gravestones now.
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Well… don’t be offended, but you smell like a dog.
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He was giving up on keeping me alive, letting nature–or rather mob justice–take its course. When he returned, and I was dead, he wouldn't hold anyone responsible. He would not mourn. All this I could hear in those three words.
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Storytelling was the most honored of all talents, for it benefited everyone.
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I can feel what you’re feeling now — and you are worth it.
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He leaned over to kiss the top of my head, and then groaned. I looked at him, puzzled. You smell so good in the rain, he explained. In a good way, or in a bad way? I asked cautiously. He sighed. Both, always both.
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Do you ever think that your life might be easier if you weren't in love with me? — Edward Cullen
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Fall down again, Bella?' No, Emmett, I punched a werewolf in the face.
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I could see how easy it would be to fall into loving Bella. It would be exactly like falling: effortless. Not letting myself love her was the opposite of falling—it was pulling myself up a cliff-face, hand over hand, the task as grueling as if I had no more than mortal strength.
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I shuddered at the image in my head, at the word feed. But Jasper wasn’t worried about frightening me, not overprotective like Edward always was.
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No measure of time with you will be long enough, but we'll start with forever.
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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
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As if you could outrun me.
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Listen up, Wanda. I know exactly what you don't want to be. But we're human, and we're selfish, and we don't always do the right thing. We aren't going to let you go. Deal with it.
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In the dead silence, all the details suddenly fell into place for me with a burst of intuition. Something Edward didn't want me to know. Something that Jacob wouldn't have kept from me.... It was never going to end, was it?
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The way you move — you orient yourself around him without even thinking about it. When he moves, even a little bit, you adjust your position at the same time. Like magnets… or gravity. You’re like a… satellite, or something.
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And yet, I found I could survive. I was alert, I felt the pain - the aching loss that radiated out from my chest, sending wracking waves of hurt through my limbs and head - but it was manageable. I could live through it. I didn't feel like the pain had weakened over time, rather that I'd grown strong enough to bear it.
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It must be a hard thing, to be a father living in fear that your daughter would meet a boy she liked, but also having to worry if she didn't.
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Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear.
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He's got to let go of you sometime.
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