Eileen Rodrigues

“What the hell, Serefin?" Nadya cried when they were gone.
"I don't know how to put it more elegantly than he'd eat you, Nadya."
There was a beat of silence.
"What?"
"Oh, so we're not talking like in a fun--"
"Zaneta, thank you for your contribution, but I'm going to have to ask you to not.”
― Emily A. Duncan, Blessed Monsters

“Edward,” she mumbled softly.
She was dreaming of me.
Could a dead, frozen heart beat again? It felt as though mine was about to.
“Stay,” she sighed. “Don’t go. Please… don’t go.” She was dreaming of me, and it wasn’t even a nightmare. She wanted me to stay with her, there in her dream.
I struggled to find words to name the feelings that flooded through me, but I had no words strong enough to hold them. For a long moment, I drowned in them.
When I surfaced, I was not the same man I had been.
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”
― Stephenie Meyer, Midnight Sun

“I knew her well enough to see that the sight of so many books in one room was something of a dream to her.”
― Stephenie Meyer, Midnight Sun

“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?”
― Stephenie Meyer, Midnight Sun