I hear footsteps and Four's hands wrap around my wrists. I let him pry my hands from my eyes. He encloses one of my hands perfectly between two of his. The warmth of his skin overwhelms the ache in my fingers from holding the bars. "You all right?" he asks, pressing our hands together. "Yeah." He starts to laugh.

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

it's not about being fearless, it's about acting in spite of fear

We both have war inside us. Sometimes it keeps us alive. Sometimes it threatens to destroy us.

About when to let others sacrifice themselves for you, even if its selfish. They say that if the sacrifice is the ultimate way for that person to show you that they love you, let them do it.

Dead people can be our heroes because they can't disappoint us later; they only improve over time, as we forget more and more about them.

Do remember, though, that sometimes the people you oppress become mightier than you would like.