I wipe my face with my sleeve, laughing so hard my stomach hurts. If my entire life is like this, loud laughter and bold action and the kind of exhaustion you feel after a hard but satisfying day, I will be content.

I should probably be afraid. But instead a hysterical laugh bubbles inside me, because I just remembered something: Maybe I can’t hold a gun. But I have a knife in my back pocket.

Seeing people who are actually reading your book and listening to the wide variety of reactions they have to it, is really special.

Not like Tobias, who is almost shy when he smiles, like he is surprised you bothered to look at him in the first place.

I think you're still the only person sharp enough to sharpen someone like me.

i happen to enjoy categorization.

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".