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You gonna back down so easy, little sister?. not much wild about you, is there? i bet that cottage doesn't have a scratch. did edward tell you how many houses rose and i smashed?
-Stephenie Meyer
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You Gonna Back Down So Easy, Little

Stephenie Meyer
You gonna back down so easy, little sister?. not much wild about you, is there? i bet that cottage doesn't have a scratch. did edward tell you how many houses rose and i smashed?
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Rose House Little Sister

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Hear and attend and listen; for this is what befell and be-happened and became and was, o my best beloved, when the tame animals were wild. the dog was wild, and the horse was wild, and the cow was wild, and the sheep was wild, and the pig was wild -as wild as wild could be - and they walked in the wet wild woods by their wild lones. but the wildest of all the wild animals was the cat. he walked by himself and all places were alike to him
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Turn right up ahead," he directed. "it'll take us directly to my cottage." she did as he asked. "does your cottage have a name?" "my cottage." "i might have known," she muttered. he smirked. quite a feat, in her opinion, since he looked sick as a dog. "i'm not kidding," he said. sure enough, in another minute they pulled up in front of an elegant country house, complete with a small, unobtrusive sign in front reading, my cottage
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I tensed for the spring, my eyes squinting as i cringed away, and the sound of edward's furious roar echoed distantly in the back of my head. his name burst through all the walls i'd built to contain it. edward, edward, edward. i was going to die. it shouldn't matter if i thought of him now. edward, i love you.
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The rose is a rose, and was always a rose. but the theory now goes that the apple's a rose, and the pear is, and so's the plum, i suppose. the dear only knows what will next prove a rose. you, of course, are a rose - but were always a rose.
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I feel like, when we're kids, you're sold into this fairy tale of what love is. that prince charming's gonna come along and save you and you're gonna live happily ever after. they're gonna rescue me from the bronx, and we're gonna go off and live in a castle somewhere and it's gonna be awesome. he's gonna love me forever, and i'm gonna love him forever, and it's gonna be real easy. and it's so different than that.
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Love is like the wild rose-briar; friendship like the holly-tree. the holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms, but which will bloom most constantly? the wild rose-briar is sweet in spring ,its summer blossoms scent the air; yet wait till winter comes again, and who will call the wild-briar fair? then, scorn the silly rose-wreath now, and deck thee with holly's sheen, that, when december blights thy brow, he still may leave thy garland green.
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