Quote

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.

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
Mother
Back
Simulation
Firsts
Tobias
First
Brushing
Feel
Brave
Feels
Telling
Hair
Hear

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Because there might come a day when there is no flashlight, there is no gun, there is no guiding hand. And I want to be ready for it. (divergent pg.138)
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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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If the Dauntless knew about this, everyone would be getting in line to learn how to drive it,” he says. “Including me.” “No, they would be strapping themselves to the wings.” Christina pokes his arm. “Don’t you know your own faction?
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Tris.” I keep staring. “Tris.” I finally look at him. “I just don’t want to lose you.
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He gives me a conflicted look and touches his lips to my forehead, right between my eyebrows. I close my eyes. I don't understand this, whatever it is. But I don't want to ruin it, so I say nothing. He doesn't move he just stays there with his mouth pressed to my skin, and I stay there with my hands on his waist, for a long time.
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I choose him over and over again, and he chooses me.
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I will be my undoing If I become my obsession.
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His hands skim my bare arms. “Just bounce a little when you walk,” he says, kissing my forehead, “and pretend you’re afraid of their guns” —another kiss between my eyebrows— “and act like the shrinking violet you could never be ”—a kiss on my cheek— “and you’ll be fine.
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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 should wonder what courage—which is the virtue they most value—has to do with a metal ring through your nostril.
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Change, like healing, takes time.
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I like to think I'm helping them by hating them. I'm reminding them that they aren't God's gift to humankind.
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I stare at him. I feel my heartbeat everywhere, even in my toes. I feel like doing something bold, but I could just as easily walk away. I am not sure which option is smarter, or better. I am not sure that I care.
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Like a wild animal, the truth is too powerful to remain caged.
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I wish I could say I felt guilty for what I did. I don't.
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I love the Wikipedia link chain because it has led me into some strange articles. Wikipedia is one of my favorites.
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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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His eyes search the crowd until they find my face. My heartbeat lives in my throat lives in my cheeks. I still don't understand, he says softly, how she knew that it would work.
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He doesn’t scowl, but his mouth is so tense that I know he’s angry with me. 'Don’t be an idiot,' he says. 'An idiot?' Is he talking about the blanket? 'You were lying.
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You need to be passionate about the creative work that you're doing, but you need to be kind of emotionally separated from how people react to it or how it does. Those things should be secondary, and primary should be your love of the creative act.
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