Tris: "I was reading." Sandry: "You're always reading. The only way people can ever talk to you is to interrupt." Tris: "Then maybe they shouldn't talk to me.

But, Sergeant Osbern, Sir, I like my head.

I'm sick of this. Call me what you like, say I'm without honor, I don't care. I'm not getting on any more horses to whack you people with a stick.

"I love you, Jonathan," she whispered. A long arm snaked around her, and he pulled her against his side. "I know," he said. "I just wanted to be sure you knew it, too."

Without reading, we are all without light in the dark, without fire in the cold.

You must tell Lady Alanna that sometime. I'd do it from a distance.

Never before had she seen such creatures, though they looked much live very large, very shaggy white goats. Thin black horns punctuated the top of their long faces. You look like a collection of grandfathers, she thought, amused.