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How is it I know this little about the boy who says he loves me -- the boy whose real name is powerful enough to keep us alive in a train car full of enemies?
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
Alive
Train
Names
Car
Powerful
Whose
Keep
Boys
Littles
Says
Little
Name
Enough
Full
Enemies
Real
Enemy
Loves
More quotes by Veronica Roth
And I provide much- needed eye candy.
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I feel like someone is pressing me into a mold that does not fit my body, forcing me intothe wrong shape.
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Now she looks pale and small, but her eyes make me think of wide- open skies that I have never actually seen, only dreamed of.
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How strange that something so simple could have been instrumental in my decision to ruin one of my most relationships and friendships, and damage another.
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Peter leans forward and looks into my eyes. The serum will go into effect in one minute, he says. Be brave, Tris. My heart begins to race. Why would Peter tell me to be brave? Why would he offer any kind words at all?
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For a few minutes we kiss, deep in the chasm, with the roar of water all around us. And we rise, hand in hand, I realize that if we had both chosen differently, we might have ended up doing the same thing, in a safer place, in gray clothes instead of black ones.
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She can't possibly be me, though she moves when I move
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It's what you deserve to hear, I say firmly, my eyes going cloudy with tears. That you're whole, that you're worth loving, that you're the best person I've ever known.
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I frown at him. How does he know all this information? And why, after two years of avoiding becoming a Dauntless leader at all costs, is he suddenly acting like one?
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It's wrong, he says. It doesn't matter if your parents are in a better place, they aren't here with you, and that's wrong, Tris. It shouldn't have happened. It shouldn't have happened to you. And anyone who tells you it's okay is a liar.
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Where's Marcus, Destroyer of Lives, going to meet us?
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Looking at her is like waking up.
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Color fills her cheeks, and I think it again: that Johanna Reyes might still be beautiful. Except now I think that she isn't just beautiful in spite of the scar, she's somehow beautiful with it, like Lynn with her buzzed hair, like Tobias with the memories of his father's cruelty that he wears like armor, like my mother in her plain gray clothing.
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It was him or me. I chose me. But I feel dead too.
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You die, I die too.” Tobias looks over his shoulder at me. “I asked you not to do this. You made your decision. These are the repercussions.
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Beatrice, she says. Beatrice, we have to run. She pulls my arm across her shoulders and hauls me to my feet. She is dressed like my mother and she looks like my mother, but she is holding a gun, and the determined look in her eyes is unfamiliar to me.
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The floor is solid metal in some places and metal grating in others. Everything smells like rotting garbage and fire. Don't say I never took you anywhere nice, Peter says. Wouldn't dream of it, I say.
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I feel his heartbeat against my cheek,as fast as my own. Are you afraid of me, too, Tobias? Terrified, he replies with a smile.
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It isn't the height that scares me - the height makes me feel alive with energy, every organ and vessel and muscle in my body singing at the same pitch. Then I realize what it is. It's him. Something about him makes me feel like I am about to fall. Or turn to liquid. Or burst into flames.
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We believe in bravery. We believe in taking action. We believe in freedom from fear and in acquiring the skills to force the bad out of our world so that the good can prosper and thrive. If you also believe in those things, we welcome you.
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