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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)
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
Hand
Hands
Might
Flashlight
Come
Flashlights
Divergent
Guiding
Gun
Ready
More quotes by Veronica Roth
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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Awkwardness aside, it's nice to be liked.
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Who cares about everyone? What about me?
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Sometimes pain is for the greater good.
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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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It was him or me. I chose me. But I feel dead too.
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I do trust you, is what I want to say. But it isn't true -- I didn't trust him to love me despite the terrible things I had done. I don't trust anyone to do that, but that isn't his problem it's mine.
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To live factionless Is not just to live in poverty and discomfort it is to live divorced from society, separated from the most important thing in life: community. My mother once told me that we can’t survive alone,but even if we could, we wouldn’t want to. Without a faction, we have no purpose and no reason to live.
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I have a theory that selflessness and bravery aren't all that different.
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I am too strong to break so easily, and I become better, sharper, every time I touch him.
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If someone offer you an opportunity to get closer to your enemy, you always take it.
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What do I believe? I do not know I do not know I do not know.
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Out of my peripheral vision, I see Four shove the door open and walk out. Apparently this fight isn't interesting enough for him. Or maybe he's going to figure out why everything's spinning like a top, and I don't blame him I want to know the answer too.
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I notice, however, that Peter only pretends to inject himself—when he presses the plunger down, the fluid runs down his throat, and he wipes it casually with a sleeve. I wonder what it feels like to volunteer to forget everything.
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Sometimes I forget that I can hurt you. That you are capable of being hurt
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He smiles in my memory. A curled lip. Straight teeth. Light in his eyes. Laughing, teasing, more alive in memory than I m in reality. It was him or me. I chose me. But I feel dead too.
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she sighs, then breaks a piece off the muffin in my hand. 'Hey. There are plenty more just five feet to your right.' 'then you shouldn't be so concerned about losing some of yours.' she says, grinning. 'Fair enough.
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Your daughter is doing well here. I've been overseeing her training. Since when does overseeing include throwing knives at me and scolding me at every opportunity?
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You're not very nice, I say, grinning. You're one to talk. Hey, I could be nice if I tried. Hmm. He taps his chin. Say something nice, then. You're very good-looking. He smiles, his teeth a flash in this dark. I like this 'nice' thing.
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she’s not pretty, that word is too small. She is not like the girls I used to stare at, all bend and curve and softness. She is small but strong, and her bright eyes demand attention. Looking at her is like waking up.
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