Quote

Our eyes meet. I hear a train horn, so faint it could be wind whistling through an alleyway. But I know it when I hear it. It sounds like the Dauntless, calling me to to them.

Veronica Roth

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Veronica Roth
Age: 36
Born: 1988
Born: August 19
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
New York City
New York
Veronica Anne Roth
Eye
Horns
Sound
Sounds
Like
Calling
Alleyway
Train
Alleyways
Meet
Dauntless
Wind
Whistling
Hear
Horn
Eyes
Faint

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I think about pressing myself against him, but I can't, because all our secrets would keep a space between us.
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You promised you wouldn't tell her, she says, pointing at me. What happened to protecting her? I changed my mind, I say. Tris laughs, harshly,That's what you told him, that he would be protecting me? That's a pretty skillful manipulation. Well done.
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God Tris, are you even human?
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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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It's stupid to miss a thing when there are so many people to miss instead, but I miss this train already, and all the others that carried me through the city, my city, after I was brave enough to ride them. I brush my fingers over the car wall, just once, and then jump.
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All I want is to become someone new. In this case, Tobias Johnson, son of Evelyn Johnson. Tobias Johnson may have lived a dull and empty life, but he is at least a whole person, not this fragment of a person that I am, too damaged by pain to become anything useful.
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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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There are so many ways to be brave in this world. Sometimes it involves giving up everything you have ever known, or everyone you have ever loved for the sake of something greater.
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When her body first hit the net, all I registered was a gray blur. I pulled her across it and her hand was small, but warm, and then she stood before me, short and thin and plain and in all ways unremarkable- except that she had jumped first. The stiff had jumped first. Even I didn't jump first. Her eyes were so stern, so insistent. Beautiful.
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This is how we came by our factions: Candor, Erudite, Amity, Abnegation and Dauntless. Max smiles. In them we find administrators and teachers and counselors and leaders and protectors. In them we find our sense of belonging, our sense of community, our very lives.
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I don't have a bullet in my head, do I? So I'm fine.
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There is power in controlling something that can do so much damage - in controlling something, period.
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You’re too important to just … die.” He shakes his head. He won’t even look at me—his eyes keep shifting across my face, to the wall behind me or the ceiling above me, to everything but me. I am too stunned to be angry. “I’m not important. Everyone will do just fine without me,” I say. “Who cares about everyone? What about me?
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I reach out and take his hand. His fingers slide between mine. I can't breathe.
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He is not sweet or gentle or particularly kind. But he is smart and brave, and even though he saved me, he treated me like I was strong. That is all I need to know.
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That is death - shifting from is to was.
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If you see someone in trouble, you should help them. Experiment or not.
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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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Human beings as a whole cannot be good for long before the bad creeps back in and poisons us again.
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I know that I am birdlike, made narrow and small as if for taking flight, built straight-waisted and fragile. But when he touches me like he can't bear to take his hand away, I don't wish I was any different.
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