Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
You don't have to tell me everything right away, but I have to tell you everything right away? Can't you see how stupid that is?
But when you kill someone you love, the hard part is never over. It just gets easier to distract yourself from what you've done.
I'm sick of doing bad things and liking it and then wondering what's wrong with me. I want it to be over. I want to start again.
I wonder how I seem to them. They must see someone I don't see. Someone capable and strong. Someone I can't be; someone I can be.
Well, technology is supposed to make life better," she says. "No matter what you believe, there's a technology out there for you.
I glance at Tris. She grins at me, then leans in to whisper something to Christina. "Are you here to help or what, Stiff?" I say.
I confessed to Tobias, soon after that, that I had lost my entire family. And he assured me that he was my family now. -Tris Prior
You want him to walk?" Caleb demands. "Are you insane?" "Did I shoot him in the leg?" I say. "No. He walks. Where do we go, Peter?
He should be the one to die, part of me thinks. I don't want to lose him, another part argues. I don't know which part to believe.
She has been to the compound before. She remembered this hallway. She knows about the initiation process. My mother was Dauntless.
We are not people who touch each other carelessly; every point of contact between us feels important, a rush of energy and relief.
I feel his heartbeat against my cheek,as fast as my own. "Are you afraid of me, too, Tobias?" "Terrified," he replies with a smile.
Seeing people who are actually reading your book and listening to the wide variety of reactions they have to it, is really special.
We could visit him," suggests Will. "But what would we say? 'I didn't know you that well, but I'm sorry you got stabbed in the eye'?
I look up, and stop breathing. Eyes glitter in the darkness. Dark shapes sit in the car, more numerous than we are. The factionless.
Hearing him talk about his mother, about his intact family, makes my chest hurt for a second, like someone pierced it with a needle.
I have done bad things. I can't take them back, and they are part of who I am. Most of the time, they seem like the only thing I am.
I forget that he is another person; instead it feels like he is another part of me, just as essential as a heart or an eye or an arm.
People talk about the pain of grief, but I don't know what they mean. To me, grief is a devastating numbness, every sensation dulled.
So now we all know," says Four, quietly, "that you are afraid of a short, skinny girl from Abnegation." His mouth curls into a smile.
I note how calm she looks and how focused she is. She is well-practiced in the art of losing herself. I can't say the same of myself.
No factions? A world in which no one knows who they are or where they fit? I can't even fathom it. I imagine only chaos and isolation.
An artist gives. Gives visually, gives through courses, or with free advice, through generosity of spirit and through a need to share.
Psyche you out?" I repeat. "I'm your FRIEND. I wouldn't do that." He doesn't say anything. I can tell he doesn't believe me-not quite.
Relax Beatrice, I've driven a car before.' MARCUS 'I've done a lot of things before, but that doesn't mean I'm any good at them!' TRIS
You're the one who has to live with your choice, everyone else will get over it, move on, no matter what you decide. But you never will
My problem might be that even if I did go home, I wouldn’t belong there, among people who give without thinking and care without trying.
Then I realize what it is. It's him. Something about him makes me feel like I am about to fall. Or turn to liquid. Or burst into flames.
The truth is... you are hurting me. Not on purpose, I know that. But I love you and every second that you don´t love me back...it hurts.
It reminds me why I chose Dauntless in the first place: not because they are perfect, but because they are alive. Because they are free.
I have realized that part of being Dauntless is being willing to make things more difficult for yourself in order to be self-sufficient.
Dead people can be our heroes because they can't disappoint us later; they only improve over time, as we forget more and more about them.
Insurgent, he says. Noun. A person who acts in opposition to the established authority, who is not necessarily regarded as a belligerent.
He's one of the last friends I have," she says, her voice breaking. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to look at you the same way again.
I would be shocked by the lack of security if we were not at Amity headquarters. They often straddle the line between trust and stupidity.
Maybe forgiveness is just the continual pushing aside of bitter memories, until time dulls the hurt and anger, and the wrong is forgotten.
All I can do is stand still- I feel like if I just stand still, I can stop it from being true, I can pretend that everything is all right.
Eyes open, then," I say, tapping the skin between my eyebrows. I don’t really need her eyes to be on mine, but I feel better when they are.
It is more important for you to be safe than right, for the time being. Understand? (...) But please, when you see an opportunity...ruin them
Don't you dare try to apologize." His voice shakes. "This is not something you can bandage with a word or two and some hugging, or something.
"You die, I die too.” Tobias looks over his shoulder at me. “I asked you not to do this. You made your decision. These are the repercussions."
My father says that those who want power and get it live in terror of losing it. That's why we have to give power to those who do not want it.
Little girl, he called me. A little girl who is stressed out to the point of paranoia. That is not me, but now, it's who the Candor think I am.
Sorry, am I being rude?" she asks. "I'm used to saying whatever is on my mind. Mom used to say that politeness is deception in pretty packaging
Soon I will honor my parents by dying as they died. and if all they believed about death was true, soon I will join them in whatever comes next.
It's not often real that you encounter the real person behind a good-natured mask, the darkest part of someone. It's not comfortable what you do.
He kisses me again, more insistent this time, his hands squeezing my waist. His breaths, his body, my body, we are so close there is no difference.
The reason the factions were evil is because there was no way out of them. They gave us the illusion of choice without actually giving us a choice.
I am afraid of her, afraid of what she says-and thrilled by it too, because it means I don't have to accept that I am smaller than I once believed.
He leans his face close to mine and wraps his fingers around my chin. His hand smells like metal. When was the last time he held a gun, or a knife?