I might be in love with you." He smiles a little. "I'm waiting until I'm sure to tell you, though.

Or maybe we'll make a home somewhere inside ourselves, to carry with us wherever we go- which is the way I carry my mother now.

That is how it feels. Like everything between us is twisted together, friendship and love and family, so I cant tell the difference between any of them.

The truth has a way of changing people's plans.

He told me once to be brave, and though I have stood still while knives spun toward my face and jumped off a roof, I never thought I would need bravery in the small moments of my life. I do.

He turns toward me. I want to touch him, but I’m afraid of his bareness; afraid that he will make me bare too. ‘Is this scaring you, Tris?’ ‘No,’ I croak. I clear my throat. ‘Not really. I’m only…afraid of what I want.’ ‘What do you want?’ Then his face tightens. ‘Me?’ Slowly I nod.

For someone so small, you're heavy, Stiff," he mutters.