Veronica Roth

He wraps his arms around me and holds me tight for a few seconds. Hisbreaths tickle my ear, and I close my eyes, letting myself finally relax. Hesmells like wind and sweat and soap, like Tobias and like safety.

He smells safe, too, like sunlit walks in the orchard and silent breakfastsin the dining hall. And in the moments before I drift off to sleep, I almost forget about our war-torn city and all the conflict that willcome to find us soon, if we don__ find it first.

The hurts from my last day with my father are healed now, but I want to remember where they were; I want to remember what I escaped for as long as I live.

I also don't believe that whatever come after life depends on my correctly reciting a list of my transgressions-that sounds too much like an Erudite afterlife to me, all accuracy and no feeling.

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. I also don't believe that whatever comes after life depends on my correctly reciting a list of my transgressions...I don't believe that what comes after depends on anything I do at all.

Can I be forgiven for all I've done to get here?I don't know. I don't know.please.-Tris, DivergentCan I be forgiven for all I've done to get here?I want to be.I can.I believe it.-Tris, Allegiant

My body rises with the water. Instead of kicking my feet to stay abreast of it, I push all the air from my lungs and sink to the bottom. The water muffles my ears. I feel its movement over my face. I think about snorting the water into my lungs so it kills me faster, but I can't bring myself to do it. I blow bubbles from my mouth. Relax. I close my eyes. My lungs burn.

We believe that preparation eradicates cowardice, which we define as the failure to act in the midst of fear.

Do remember, though, that sometimes the people you oppress become mightier than you would like.

I can pretend to be brave, but I'm not

Is it selfish for me to crave victory or is it brave?

You're my daughter. I don't care about the factions.

Looking away is submissive. Looking [..] in the eye is a challenge.

That night we push our cots just a little closer together, and look into each other's eyes in the moments before we fall asleep. When he finally drifts off, our fingers are twisted together in the space between the beds.I smile a little, and let myself go.

I wonder if fears ever really go away, or if they just lose their power over us.

Caleb and Tris exchange a look. The skin on his face and on her knuckles is nearly the same colour, purple-blue-green, as if drawn with ink. This is what happens when siblings collide - they injure each other in the same way.

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.

Most of my life has been spent keeping information close, turning it over and over in my mind. The impulse to share anything is a new one, the impulse to hide as natural as breathing.