Stephenie Meyer
Stephenie Meyer
Stephenie Meyeris an American young-adult fiction writer and film producer, best known for her vampire romance series Twilight. The Twilight novels have gained worldwide recognition and sold over 100 million copies, with translations into 37 different languages. Meyer was the bestselling author of 2008 and 2009 in America, having sold over 29 million books in 2008, and 26.5 million books in 2009. Twilight was the best-selling book of 2008 in US bookstores...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionYoung Adult Author
Date of Birth24 December 1973
CityHartford, CT
CountryUnited States of America
I'd never seen anything more beautiful - even as I ran, gasping and screaming, I could appreciate that. And the last seven months meant nothing. And his words in the forest meant nothing. And it did not matter if he did not want me. I would never want anything but him, no matter how long I lived.
I almost took the door off the car
Dear Jacob, I win. Sincerely, Edward
How easy it must be when you had no secrets from the person you lived with." - Eclipse, page 208
Strange world isn't it?
For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency.
My mother is part albino." Bella Swan
I tried to concentrate on the angel's voice instead. "Bella, please! Bella, listen to me, please, please, please, Bella, please!" he begged. Yes, I wanted to say. Anything. But I couldn't find my lips. "Carlisle!" the angel called, agony in his perfect voice. "Bella, Bella, no, oh please, no, no!" And the angel was sobbing tearless, broken sobs. The angel shouldn't weep, it was wrong. I tried to find him, to tell him everything was fine, but the water was so deep, it was pressing on me, and I couldn't breathe.
Do you truly believe that you care more for me than I do for you?" he murmured, leaning closer to me as he spoke, his dark golden eyes piercing. I tried to remember how to exhale. I had to look away before it came back to me. "You're doing it again," I muttered. His eyes opened wide with surprise. "What?" "Dazzling me," I admitted, trying to concentrate as I looked back at him. "Oh." He frowned. "It's not your fault," I sighed. "You can't help it.
I feel like humor is a part of life. I don't think it comes through as much in the novels as it does in my head.
After all, what was more important, in the end, than love?
He's like a drug for you, Bella.
He sighed. "The clouds I can handle. But I can't fight with an eclipse.
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?