Don't EVER read this book. Unless you want to get a book, start to like the story, and then in the second one, you forget about the not-so-brilliant writing (but hey, I've read the four twilight books, I can survive anything), because it's so cute, and so lovely, and then in the last one...THIS.
Ok. Maybe I'm being a little dramatic, I am dramatic, but THIS IS RUTHLESS. I have a very serious issue with characters in books, movies, yada, yada. I always get way too much involved in the stories, and when they die I cry, curse the writer, can't think of anything else for days, and when it's really an absurd death I get into a catatonic state, as it happened when I finished this stupid book, when I almost plucked every hair out of my head and got myself two sprained fingers for punching a wall that haven't stopped hurting yet.
I know there can't be happy endings all the time, I get it, I realy do. And the major reason why I can't stand twilight is because stupid-Bella and moron-Edward want everything too perfect and get everything too perfect and he's soooo selfless, sooo nice, sooo beautiful, sooo generous, oh PLEASE, F-off Edward.
I know if this book had had the perfect ending I was hoping for I'd probably be complaining that it was too fluffy, but I simply can't stand this. Still, I think if the ending had been a little less sad, a little less sweet, a little less beautiful, a little less painful, and a little less like growing up, I would have endured it better; but unfortunately, that's how it is with sad endings I guess, they're awful,and make you drown in tears but there's such beauty in a tragedy that it makes me feel sorry for Twilight. Ha.
Oh, and this is where the book title came from
" (...) Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World!
You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled
Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring
The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing.
Beauty grown sad with its eternity
Made you of us, and of the dim grey sea.
Our long ships loose thought-woven sails and wait,
For God has bid them share an equal fate;
And when at last, defeated in His wars,
They have gone down under the same white stars,
We shall no longer hear the little cry
Of our sad hearts, that may not live nor die."
- William Butler Yeats