Eyes open, then," I say, tapping the skin between my eyebrows. I don’t really need her eyes to be on mine, but I feel better when they are.

I did not know that my entire personality, my entire being, could be discarded as the byproduct of my anatomy. What if I really am just someone with a large prefrontal cortex...and nothing more?

I feel myself acting like a lunatic, but I can't stop. It would be like refusing to breathe.

I'm not Dauntless - I'm Divergent. I am whatever I choose to be.

I wonder if this is how is is with all evil men, that to someone, they look just like good men, talk like good men, are just as likable as good men.

Sometimes I forget that I can hurt you. That you are capable of being hurt

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