Character: Edward

How few sometimes you need to once again feel human - only wine and the people on whom you can rely.

I'm afraid of what I feel, because love had already ruined me.

Heart has no ability to commiserate-to-order; I felt for him only disgust.

Women have a remarkable tendency to self-sacrifice. The beloved is often a kind of hanger on which they hung their love.

- I was once pink, Edward.
- We are all born angels. But to remain impossible, if you want to survive.

She does not know how to open yourself. Each of her enthusiasm - I now see it was for her only the bed on which her mind it was convenient to lie down next to my thoughts; nothing they did not serve a response to the deep requirements of her own nature.

I always are what I consider myself - and my ideas about ourselves constantly change, so if I did not connect these ideas with each other, my morning creature often would not recognize my evening being. Nothing could be more different from me than myself. Only when I'm left alone, the basis of my character revealed to me and in such moments, I reach some true integrity, but then it seems to me that my life slows down, stops, and that I, in fact, cease to exist.

Everyone dies, Anita. The universe, ultimately, is also mortal.

If you have someone you call a friend is for life. If you are someone will hate it forever. If you say that someone kills, you kill.

- You have all that just work.
Difficult just because you make it hard, Anita.

- Why the red carpet?
- Often attempt to happen at stations, and on a red background blood is not as noticeable.

Act like you know what you are doing.

Having accepted the job, I will kill you. To protect you, I will kill far more people.