“The fire, the fire. It rages within, a campfire and then an inferno, and my body is its fuel.”

It reminds me that no embrace will ever feel the same again, because no one will ever be like her again, because she’s gone. She’s gone, and crying feels so useless, so stupid, but it’s all I can do.

Cruelty does not make a person dishonest, the same way bravery does not make a person kind.

There is a difference between admitting and confessing. Admitting involves softening, making excuses for things that cannot be excused; confessing just names the crimes at its full severity.

We both have war inside us. Sometimes it keeps us alive. Sometimes it threatens to destroy us.

You believe you know them, that you understand them, but their motives are always hidden from you, buried in their own hearts. You will never know them, but sometimes you decide to trust them.

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.

Knowledge is power. Power to do evil…or power to do good. Power itself is not evil. So knowledge itself is not evil.

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Even closer, so we would be breathng the same air- if I could remember to breathe. ‘No, Tris,’ he says. A more serious look replaces his smile as he adds, ‘You look tough as nails.

I keep finding myself stifled by the company of others and then crippled by loneliness when I leave them.

I don’t want to stop you. I want you to stop yourself.

I’ll say it one last time: Be brave.

Tris.” I keep staring. “Tris.” I finally look at him. “I just don’t want to lose you.

At home I used to spend calm, pleasant nights with my family.

I suppose that now would be the time to ask for forgiveness for all the things I’ve done, but I’m sure my list would never be complete.

My mother told me once that we can’t survive alone, but even if we could, we wouldn’t want to.

A brave man acknowledges the strength of others.