Twilight (Twilight, #1)

by Stephenie Meyer

Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain.

For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency.

It seemed excessive for them to have both looks and money. But as far as I could tell, life worked that way most of the time.

I was invited, and I had agreed to go, more out of politeness than desire.

It was easy to admit how much I needed him.