Stephenie Meyer

This was the problem with hanging out with vampires — you got used to them. They started messing up the way you saw the world. They started feeling like friends.

"You're scared of Leah, but you're best buds with the psychopath blonde?"

There was a low hiss from the second floor. Cool, she'd heard me.

Seth, are you gonna get mad at me if I kill your sister?

He pretended to think about it for a minute. Well... yeah, probably.

This is about Bella. She has never been the one for you, she has never chosen you, but you continue to destroy your life for her! [...]

Maybe you're right. But you're going to destroy the pack over her, Sam. No matter how many of them survive tonight, they will always have murder on their hands.

"Jasper? What do vampires do for bachelor parties? You're not taking him to a strip club, are you?"

They are vampires, I guess, Seth allowed after a minute, compensating for Leah's reaction. I mean, it makes sense. And if [drinking blood] helps Bella, it's a good thing, right?

Both Leah and I stared at him. [...]

Mom dropped him a lot when he was a baby, Leah told me.

On his head, apparently.

I could see that now — how the universe swirled around this one point. I'd never seen the symmetry of the universe before, but now it was plain.

The gravity of the earth no longer tied me to the place where I stood.

It was the baby girl in the blonde vampire's arms that held me here now.

Renesmee.

Jeez, she was running true to form. Of course, die for the monster spawn. It was so Bella.

I'd seen him angry, and I'd seen him arrogant, and once I'd seen him in pain. But this — this was beyond agony. His eyes were half-crazed. [...] He stared down at the couch beside him with an expression like someone had lit him on fire.

Instinctively, I tensed to defend myself. Any vampire who saw Jasper would have had the same reaction. The scars were like a lighted billboard. Dangerous, they screamed. How many vampires had tried to kill Jasper? Hundreds? Thousands? The same number that had died in the attempt.

"You know how you drown a blonde, Rosalie?" I asked without stopping or turning to look at her. "Glue a mirror to the bottom of a pool."

"Don't be afraid," I murmured. "We belong together."

I was abruptly overwhelmed by the truth of my own words. This moment was so perfect, so right, there was no way to doubt it.