I feel like someone breathed new air into my lungs. I am not Abnegation. I am not Dauntless. I am Divergent.

His fingers slide into my hair, and I hold on to his arms to stay steady as we press together like two blades at a stalemate. He is stronger than anyone I know, and warmer than anyone else realizes; he is a secret that I have kept, and will keep for the rest of my life.

I'm going to stop a revolution,'' I say. I turn right, and Peter follows me.

It seems like the rebellions never stop, in the city, in the compound, anywhere. There are just breaths between them, and foolishly, we call those breaths “peace".

I love Tris the Divergent, who makes decisions apart from faction loyalty, who isn’t some faction archetype. But the Tris who’s trying as hard as she can to destroy herself … I can’t love her.

I wonder if fears ever really go away, or if they just lose their power over us.

I wish I could say I felt guilty for what I did. I don't.