Quote

We kiss again and this time, it feels familiar. I know exactly how we fit together, his arm around my waist, my hands on his chest, the pressure of his lips on mine. We have each other memorized.

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
Exactly
Chests
Pressure
Kiss
Arms
Familiar
Hands
Kissing
Around
Lips
Together
Fit
Memorized
Feels
Mines
Waist
Time
Mine
Chest

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I wonder how I seem to them. They must see someone I don't see. Someone capable and strong. Someone I can't be someone I can be.
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What do you think they're going to do to us when they find us guilty? she says after a few minutes of silence have passed. Honestly? Does now seem like the time for honesty? I look at her from the corner of my eye. I think they're going to force us to eat lots of cake and then take an unreasonably long nap.
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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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I watch her blond head until it disappears around the bend, and I feel bare, like there's nothing left to protect me against pain. Her absence stings worst of all.
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Four! I call out. Why am I calling a number? Oh yes. Because that's his name. — Tris.
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I'm surprised you know that, I say quietly, since you left halfway through my one and only fight. It wasn't something I wanted to watch. he says. What's that supposed to mean?
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Okay. Then...I can talk. Ask me something. Okay. He laughs shakily in my ear. Why is your heart racing Tris? I cringe and say, Well, I...I barely know you. I barely know you and I'm crammed up against you in a box, Four, what do you think?... Maybe you were cut out for Candor, he says, because you're a terrible liar.
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Peter would probably throw a party if I stopped breathing.' 'Well,' he says, 'I would only go if there was cake.
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If I don't survive, I say, tell Tobias I didn't want to leave him.
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feel Tobias brushing my hair back before the first simulation. I hear him telling me to be brave. I hear my mother telling me to be brave(...) I am brave.
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I ignore my fear,” he says. “When I make decisions, I pretend it doesn’t exist.” I stare at him for a second. I can’t help it. To me there’s a difference between not being afraid and acting in spite of fear, as he does.
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i happen to enjoy categorization.
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I can’t answer either question. But the look she gives me reminds me of the look in the attack dog’s eyes in the aptitude test – a vicious, predatory stare. She wants to rip me to pieces. I can’t lie down in submission now. I have become an attack dog too.
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The cruelty of fate is that I must travel with the people I hate when the people I love are dead behind me.
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Do remember, though, that sometimes the people you oppress become mightier than you would like.
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You know what mom told me once? She said that everyone has some evil inside them, and the first step to loving anyone is to recognize the same evil in ourselves, so we're able to forgive them.
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Looking away is submissive. Looking [..] in the eye is a challenge.
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I look out the window again, taking slow, deep breaths into a body too tense to move. And as I stare out at the land, I think that this, if nothing else, is compelling evidence for my parents’ God, that our world is so massive that it is completely out of our control, that we cannot possibly be as large as we feel. -Tris Prior
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Politeness is deception in pretty packaging.
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You are far less likely to soil your pants and cry for your mother if you’re prepared to defend yourself.
Veronica Roth