Sometimes I just... want to see it again. Want to see you awake.

Sleep,” he says. “I'll fight the bad dreams off if they come to get you.” “With what?” “My bare hands, obviously.

Sometimes,” he says, sliding his arm across my shoulders, “people just want to be happy, even if it’s not real.

My problem might be that even if I did go home, I wouldn’t belong there, among people who give without thinking and care without trying.

So, the thing we’re all not talking about,” he says. He gestures to me. “You almost died, a sadistic pansycake saved you, and now we’re all waging some serious war with the factionless as allies.” “Pansycake?” says Christina. “Dauntless slang.” Lynn smirks. “Supposed to be a huge insult, only no one uses it anymore.” “Because it’s so offensive,” says Uriah, nodding. “No. Because it’s so stupid no Dauntless with any sense would speak it, let alone think it. Pansycake. What are you, twelve?” “And a half,” he says.

It happened. It was awful. You aren't perfect. That's all there is. Don't confuse your grief with guilt.

You don’t believe things because they make your life better, you believe them because they’re true.