Quote

Before we sit down, he puts his mouth next to my ear and says, “I like your hair that way.

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
Says
Next
Way
Like
Puts
Mouth
Mouths
Ears
Hair

More quotes by Veronica Roth

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What's this about flashing underwear? says Uriah, sidestepping a bunk. Whatever it is, I'm in.
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But I will find new habits, new thoughts, new rules. I will become something else.
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One choice can transform you!
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He is strong, and lithe, and certain. And he is mine.
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You know, most boys would enjoy being trapped in close quarters with a girl. I roll my eyes. Not claustrophobic people, Tris.
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Fine, he says. Then I love you.
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It was him or me. I chose me. But I feel dead too.
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I have a theory that selflessness and bravery aren't all that different. All your life you've been training to forget yourself, so when you're in danger, it becomes your first instinct
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And I provide much- needed eye candy.
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We could visit him, suggests Will. But what would we say? 'I didn't know you that well, but I'm sorry you got stabbed in the eye'?
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You're the one who has to live with your choice, everyone else will get over it, move on, no matter what you decide. But you never will
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I was so afraid that we would just keep colliding over and over again if we stayed together, and that eventually the impact would break me. But now I know I am like the blade and he is like the whetstone- I am too strong to break so easily, and I become better, sharper, every time I touch him.
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They try to make you think they care about what you do but they don't. They don't want you to act a certain way. So you're easy to understand. So you won't pose a threat to them.
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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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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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He pulls me over the railing and against his chest, gathering me into his arms, easing an arm under my knees. I press my face into his shoulder, and there is a sudden, hollow silence.
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I wipe my face with my sleeve, laughing so hard my stomach hurts. If my entire life is like this, loud laughter and bold action and the kind of exhaustion you feel after a hard but satisfying day, I will be content.
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I am no longer Tris, the selfless, or Tris, the brave. I suppose that now, I must become more than either.
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Sometimes crying or laughing are the only options left, and laughing feels better right now.
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I have to admit that Christina is good—though I don’t like giving credit to Candor smart-mouths—and so is Peter—though I don’t like giving credit to future psychopaths.
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