That's what love does. When it's right, it makes you more than you were, more than you thought you could be.

His eyes search the crowd until they find my face. My heartbeat lives in my throat; lives in my cheeks. "I still don't understand," he says softly, "how she knew that it would work.

Nothing else is all right.” His whisper tickles my cheek. “But we are.

I like to think I'm helping them by hating them. I'm reminding them that they aren't God's gift to humankind.

So now we all know," says Four, quietly, "that you are afraid of a short, skinny girl from Abnegation." His mouth curls into a smile.

Maybe it's a little depressing to think that my vision of a perfect world is actually so messed up, but I think it means that I don't really understand what 'perfect' is.

Sometimes pain is for the greater good.