Did you just call me BEATRICE?

She walks away, and I am too stunned to follow her. At the end of the hallways she turns and says, "Have a piece of cake for me, all right? The chocolate. It's delicious." She smiles a strange, twisted smile, and adds," I love you, you know." And then she's gone. I stand alone in the blue light coming from the lamp above me, and I understand: She has been to the compound before. She remembered this hallways. She knows about the initiation process. My mother was a dauntless.

I ignore my fear. When I make decisions, I pretend it doesn't exist.

Blood is a strange color. It's darker than you expect it to be.

I started writing because I decided I was too old to play pretend in the backyard. Then I found that I could create those imaginary worlds on the page.

You know, most boys would enjoy being trapped in close quarters with a girl." I roll my eyes. "Not claustrophobic people, Tris.

We believe that preparation eradicates cowardice, which we define as the failure to act in the midst of fear.