Quote

I have never been carried around by a large boy, or laughed until my stomach hurt at the dinner table, or listened to the clamor of a hundred people all talking at once. Peace is restrained this is free.

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
Peace
Tables
Around
Dinner
Restrained
Never
Large
Clamor
People
Hundred
Listened
Boys
Carried
Hurt
Stomach
Talking
Laughed
Free
Table

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It must require bravery to be honest all the time.
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So you're her brother? Says Linn. I guess we know who got the good genes.
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No one's perfect, I whisper. It doesn't work that way. One bad thing goes away, and another bad thing replaces it. I traded cowardice for cruelty I traded weakness for ferocity.
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No. Because it's so stupid no Dauntless with any sense would speak it, let alone think it. Pansycake. What are you, twelve? And a half, he says.
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I hear footsteps and Four's hands wrap around my wrists. I let him pry my hands from my eyes. He encloses one of my hands perfectly between two of his. The warmth of his skin overwhelms the ache in my fingers from holding the bars. You all right? he asks, pressing our hands together. Yeah. He starts to laugh.
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Can I ask why you’re throwing knives at cheese?’ ‘Caleb came by to discuss something,’ Tobias says, leaning his head against the wall as he looks at me. ‘And knife-throwing just came up somehow.’ ‘As it so often does,’ I say, a small smile inching across my face.
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If I don't survive, I say, tell Tobias I didn't want to leave him.
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They all laugh. We all laugh. And it occurs to me that I might be meeting Tobias's true faction. They are not characterized by a particular virtue. They claim all colors, all activities, all virtues, and all flaws as their own.
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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.
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It's strange how a word, a phrase, a sentence, can feel like a blow to the head.
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Part of me wonders if this is a suicide mission disguised as a game.
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In our factions, we find meaning, we find purpose, we find life.
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His hand touches my waist, steadies me. The touch sends a shock through my body, and all my insides burn like his fingers ignited them. I pull close to him, pressing my body against his, and lift my head to kiss him.
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Sometimes all I want is to be a few inches taller so the world does not look like a dense collection of torsos.
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What do-- Tobias's voice. Tobias! Oh my God. Oh-- Spare me your blubbering, okay? Peter says. She's not dead she's just paralyzed. It'll only last for about a minute. Now get ready to run. I don't understand. How does Peter know? Let me carry her, Tobias says. No. You're a better shot than I am. Take my gun. I'll carry her.
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Fear doesn't shut you down it wakes you up
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I shift from one foot to the other, trying to get a good look at him. When I finally do, I look away. His eyes were already on me, probably drawn by my nervous movement.
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Before we sit down, he puts his mouth next to my ear and says, “I like your hair that way.
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Someone shouts, Enough! and I think too much and nothing at all.
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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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