You won,” Four mutters. “Stop.” I wipe the sweat from my forehead. He stares at me. His eyes are too wide; they look alarmed.
VERONICA ROTHTris.” I keep staring. “Tris.” I finally look at him. “I just don’t want to lose you.
More Veronica Roth Quotes
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My name is Four,” I say. “Call me ‘Stiff’ again and you and I will have a problem.
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I’ll say it one last time: Be brave.
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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.
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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.
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I traded cowardice for cruelty; I traded weakness for ferocity.
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We are not people who touch each other carelessly; every point of contact between us feels important, a rush of energy and relief.
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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.
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At home I used to spend calm, pleasant nights with my family.
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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.
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No matter how long you train someone to be brave, you never know if they are or not until something real happens.
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I know that change is difficult, and comes slowly, and that it is the work of many days strung together in a long line until the origin of them is forgotten.
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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.
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He is stronger than anyone I know, and warmer than anyone else realizes; he is a secret that I have kept, and will keep for the rest of my life.
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When you’re a writer, you hear your internal critic, and that’s really hard to get over. And then sometimes you hear critiques from classmates and stuff.
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My 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.
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We believe in shouting for those who can only whisper, in defending those who cannot defend themselves.
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In order to have peace, we must first have trust.
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Shh,” I say. “Arms around me.” Obediently, he slips both arms around my waist. I smile at the wall. I am not enjoying this. I am not, not even a little bit, no.
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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.
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…there is power in self-sacrifice.
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Because even a sliver of distance between us is infuriating.
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Resisting is worth doing.
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But when a book comes out, it’s just hundreds of opinions and you have to learn to separate out the ones you want to listen to or figure out many you want to listen to.
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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.
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It will be difficult to break the habits of thinking Abnegation instilled in me, like tugging a single thread from a complex work of embroidery. But I will find new habits, new thoughts, new rules. I will become something else.
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Mom used to say that politeness is deception in pretty packaging
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