You're not very nice," I say, grinning. "You're one to talk." "Hey, I could be nice if I tried." "Hmm." He taps his chin. "Say something nice, then." "You're very good-looking." He smiles, his teeth a flash in this dark. "I like this 'nice' thing.

You promised you wouldn't tell her," she says, pointing at me. "What happened to protecting her?" "I changed my mind," I say. Tris laughs, harshly,"That's what you told him, that he would be protecting me? That's a pretty skillful manipulation. Well done.

I see a few hands stretching out to me at the edge of the net, so I grabbed the first one I could reach and pull myself across. I roll off, and would have fallen face-first onto a wood floor if he had not caught me. "He" is the young man attached to the hand I grabbed. He has a spare upper lip and a full lower lip. His eyes are so deep-set that his eyelashes touch the skin under his eyebrows, and they are dark blue, a dreaming, sleeping, waiting color.

The Candor sing the praises of the truth, but they never tell you how much it costs.

Who cares about pretty? I'm going for noticeable.

You always look like someone's sucked the life right out of you when something fascinates you. -Tris

He moves his thumb in a slow circle over the back of my hand. It is meant to comfort me, but it frustrates me instead. I need to talk to him. I need to look at him.