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When I left you, Bella, I left you bleeding. Jacob was the one to stitch you back up again. That was bound to leave its mark - on both of you.
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
Left
Stitches
Back
Eclipse
Jacob
Bleeding
Bound
Bounds
Mark
Stitch
Leave
Bella
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You’re not making my mistakes, Bella. You sound like you’re scared silly, and I’m guessing it’s because you’re afraid of me.
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Next time you want to hit me hit me with a baseball bat or a crowbar!
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And you're worried, not because you're headed to meet a houseful of vampires, but because you think those vampires won't approve of you, correct?” “That's right,” I answered immediately, hiding my surprise at his casual use of the word. He shook his head. “You're incredible.
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Sometimes ideas feel like they were already there, and that you're just discovering them.
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I'm just here to be your friend. Your best friend, one last time.
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Like we were connected, the echo of his pain twisted inside inside me. his pain, my pain.
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Kryptonite doesn’t bother me, either.
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Holy crow! ~Bella Swan
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non-reality was black, and it didn't hurt so much.
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Silently, I lifted my doggy bowl off the floor. Then, with a quick, powerful flip of my wrist, I threw it into the back of Blondie’s head so hard that – with an earsplitting bang – it smashed flat before it ricocheted across the room and snapped the round top piece off the thick newel post at the foot of the stairs.
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Aren't you hungry? he asked, distracted. No. I didn't feel like mentioning that my stomach was already full - of butterflies.
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Bella. He strocked my face anxiously. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here as long as you need me. Do you swear you won't leave me? I whispered. I tried to control the gasping, at least. My ribs were throbbing. He put his hands on either side of my face and brought his face close to mine. His eyes were wide and serious. I swear.
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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.
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Yes, heaven forbid I not be protected from tanks.
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Laughter was like a fresh breeze - it cleaned its way through the body making everything feel good. Did other species have such a simple healer?
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They call her my singer—because her blood sings for me.
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