I Like It When Pessimism Goes Unrewarded.

It Was Nice To Be Alone, Not To Have To Smile And Look Pleased; A Relief To Stare Dejectedly Out The Window At The Sheeting Rain And Let Just A Few Tears Escape.

Go Sit Down And Look Pale.

Alice Was Scrutinizing My Boring Jeans-and-a-t-shirt Outfit In A Way That Made Me Self-conscious. Probably Plotting Another Makeover. I Sighed. My Indifferent Attitude To Fashion Was A Constant Thorn In Her Side. If I'd Allow It, She'd Love To Dress Me Everyday―perhaps Several Times A Day―like Some Oversized Three-dimensional Paper Doll.

There Was A Different Ending To New Moon Originally. It Was A Much Quieter Book. It Was Very Much All In Bellas Head.

His Voice Was Like Honey And Velvet. "death, That Hath Sucked The Honey Of Thy Breath, Hath Had No Power Yet Upon Thy Beauty," He Murmured, And I Recognized The Line Spoken By Romeo In The Tomb.