This is the second book in the series....and is also very beautiful, if not as beautiful, as Twilight itself. The copies of the last two books in which I marked the "quotes" aren't with me rite now...so, inshaAllah will write them l8r. This is goin to be it for now....
• Even after half a year with him, I still couldn’t believe that I deserved this degree of good fortune.
• The idea of Edward ceasing to exist, even if I were dead, was impossibly painful.
• “I don’t know that I’m making up for anything,” he disagreed lightly. “Like everything in life, I just had to decide what to do with what I was given.”
• Change was coming. I could feel it. It wasn’t a pleasant prospect, not when life was perfect in the way it was.
• No thousand words could equal this picture.
• I stared, uncomprehending, into his eyes. He stared back without apology. His eyes were like topaz- hard and clear and very deep. I felt like I could see into them for miles and miles, yet nowhere in their bottomless depths could I see a contradiction to the words he’d spoken.
• The evidence of his path had disappeared instantly. There were no footprints, the leaves were still again, but I walked forward without thinking. I could not do anything else. I had to keep moving. If I stopped looking for him, it was over.
Love, life, meaning…over.
I walked and walked. Time made no sense as I pushed slowly through the thick undergrowth. It was hours passing, but also only seconds.
• The waves of pain that had only lapped at me before, now reared high up and washed over my head, pulling me under. I did not resurface.
• Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me.
• ..but mostly it stemmed from the fact that time always sped up when I was looking forward to something unpleasant.
• It was depressing to realize that I wasn’t the heroine anymore, that my story was over.
• Option one- I was crazy. That was the layman’s term for people who heard voices in their head. Possible.
Option two- My subconscious mind was giving me what it thought I wanted. This was wish fulfillment- a momentary relief from pain by embracing the incorrect idea that HE cared whether I lived or died. Projecting what he would have said if
A) He were here. B) he would be in any way bothered by something bad happening to me.
I could see no option three, and so I hoped it was the second option and this was just my subconscious running amuck rather than something I would need to be hospitalized for.
My reaction was hardly sane, though- I was grateful. The sound of his voice was something that I’d feared I was losing, and so, more than anything else, I felt overwhelming gratitude that my unconscious mind had held onto that sound better than my conscious one had.
• I was not allowed to think of him. That was something I tried to be very strict about. Of course I slipped. I was only human. But, I was getting better, and so the pain was something I could avoid for days at a time now. The trade-off was the nerve-ending numbness. Between pain and nothing, I’d chosen nothing.
• As much as I struggled no to think of him, I did not struggle to FORGET. I worried- late in the night, when the exhaustion of sleep deprivation broke down my defenses-that it WAS all slipping away. That my mind was a sieve and I would someday not be able to remember the precise colour of his eyes, the feel of his cool skin or the texture of his voice. I could not THINK of them, but I must REMEMBER them. Because there was just one thing that I had to believe to be able to live- I had to know that he existed. That was all. Everything else I could endure. So long as he existed.
• Forbidden to remember, terrified to forget; it was a hard line to walk.
• It was dark, like dusk on a cloudy day, with only enough light to see that there was nothing to see.
• I wondered how long this could last. Maybe someday, years from now-if the pain would just decrease to the point where I could bear it- I would be able to look back on those few short months that would always be the best of my life. And if it were possible that the pain would ever soften enough to allow me to do that, I was sure that I would feel grateful for as much time as he’d given me. More than I’d asked for, more than I’d deserved. Maybe someday I’d be able to see it that way.
• The shadows didn’t seem as dark as usual. Not with my personal sun along.
• I was like a lost moon- my planet destroyed in some cataclysmic disaster-movie scenario of desolation- that continued nevertheless, to circle in a tight little orbit around the empty space left behind, ignoring the laws of gravity.
• Even more, I had never meant to love him. One thing I truly knew- knew it in the pit of my stomach, in the centre of my bones, knew it from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, knew it deep in my empty chest- was how love gave someone the power to break you. I’d been broken beyond repair.
• Love is irrational, I reminded myself. The more you loved someone, the less sense anything made.
• True love was forever lost. The prince was never coming back to kiss me awake from my enchanted sleep. I was not a princess after all. So what was the fairy tale protocol for other kisses? The mundane kind that didn’t break any spell?
• I hoped that by postponing the discussion, I could buy a few more hours with him at a later time- spin this out for another night- Scheherzade style.
• It was like my heart was gone- like I was hollow. Like I’d left everything inside me here with you.
• “I don’t trust myself to be… enough. To deserve you. There’s nothing about me that could HOLD you.”
• What if you sincerely believed something was true, but you were dead wrong? What if you were so stubbornly sure that you were right, that you wouldn’t even consider the truth? Would the truth be silenced, or would it try to break through?
Option three:- Edward loved me.
The bond forged between us was not one that could be broken by absence, distance, or time. And no matter how much more special or beautiful or brilliant or perfect than me he might be, he was as irreversibly altered as I was. As I would always belong to him, so would he always be mine.
• My heart inflated like it was going to crack right through my ribs. It filled my chest and blocked my throat so that I could not speak.
• The fairy tale was back on. Prince returned, bad spell broken. I wasn’t sure exactly what to do about the leftover, unresolved character. Where was HIS happily ever after?
• That was true. Edward was here with his arms around me.
I could face anything as long as that was true. I squared my shoulders and walked forward to meet my fate, with my destiny solidly at my side.
A part of :)))
"The Twilight Saga"
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