But I think that no matter how smart, people usually see what they're already looking for, that's all.

I know that change is difficult, and comes slowly, and that it is the work of many days strung together in a long line until the origin of them is forgotten.

Tris.” I keep staring. “Tris.” I finally look at him. “I just don’t want to lose you.

I laugh shakily. ‘You’re a little scary, Four.’ ‘Do me a favor,’ he says, ‘and don’t call me that.’ ‘What should I call you, then?’ ‘Nothing.’ He takes his hand from my face. ‘Yet.

My dear girl. I am his family. I am permanent. You are only temporary.

He should be the one to die, part of me thinks. I don't want to lose him, another part argues. I don't know which part to believe.

What's your name? Um... Think about it. You don't get to pick again. Tris.