“Since I was young, I have always known this: Life damages us, every one. We can’t escape that damage. But now, I am also learning this: We can be mended. We mend each other.”

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.

To me, when someone wrongs you, you both share the burden of that wrongdoing—the pain of it weighs on both of you. Forgiveness, then, means choosing to bear the full weight all by yourself.

I want people to come away from my book with questions. Questions about virtue and goodness. Not answers.

I feel it racing through me, eating away at the weight. There is nothing that can kill me now; I am powerful and invincible and eternal.

I laugh, and it’s laughter, not light, that casts out the darkness building within me, that reminds me I am still alive, even in this strange place where everything I’ve ever known is coming apart.

Because even a sliver of distance between us is infuriating.

Sometimes, all it takes to save people from a terrible fate is one person willing to do something about it. Even if that “something” is a fake bathroom break.

There is always somthing to learn, always somthing that is important to understand

We can’t be confined to one way of thinking, and that terrifies our leaders. It means we can’t be controlled. And it means that no matter what they do, we will always cause trouble for them.

I think you’re still the only person sharp enough to sharpen someone like me.

People, I have discovered, are layers and layers of secrets.

I have to face the fear. I have to take control of the situation and find a way to make it less frightening.