He continued to kiss my hair, my forehead, my wrists… but never my lips, and that was good.
After all, how many ways can one heart be mangled and still be expected to keep beating? I’d lived through a lot that should have finished me in the last few days, but it didn’t make me feel strong.
Instead, I felt horribly fragile, like one word could shatter me.
Bella Swan, New Moon, Chapter 22, p.495
Is it my imagination, or does this seem even more beautiful now?
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