Not writing is as important as writing – go out into the world and remember how interesting it, and the people in it, are.
VERONICA ROTHNot writing is as important as writing – go out into the world and remember how interesting it, and the people in it, are.
VERONICA ROTHNo matter how long you train someone to be brave, you never know if they are or not until something real happens.
VERONICA ROTHSorry, am I being rude?” she asks. “I’m used to saying whatever is on my mind.
VERONICA ROTHIt doesn’t prove anything except that you’re bullying us. Which, as I recall, is a sign of cowardice.
VERONICA ROTHBeing honest doesn’t mean you say whatever you want, wherever you want. It means that what you choose to say is true.
VERONICA ROTHIt 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.
VERONICA ROTHHis fingers slide into my hair, and I hold on to his arms to stay steady as we press together like two blades at a stalemate.
VERONICA ROTHIf I let a little of the emotion out, all of it will come out, and it will never end.
VERONICA ROTHI want people to come away from my book with questions. Questions about virtue and goodness. Not answers.
VERONICA ROTHReading is such a huge part of my life.
VERONICA ROTHTo live factionless Is not just to live in poverty and discomfort; it is to live divorced from society, separated from the most important thing in life: community.
VERONICA ROTHTo find that place between what I want and what I think is wise.
VERONICA ROTHA 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.
VERONICA ROTHHuman reason can excuse any evil; that is why it’s so important that we don’t rely on it.
VERONICA ROTH“Oh, you know,” I say. “Sun shining. Birds chirping.” She raises an eyebrow at me, as if reminding me that we are in an underground tunnel.
VERONICA ROTHMy mother knit scarves for the neighborhood kids. My father helped Caleb with his homework. There was a fire in the fireplace and peace in my heart, as I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing, and everything was quiet.
VERONICA ROTH