What good is a prepared body if you have a scattered mind?

How can you fail a test you aren't allowed to prepare for?

A brave man acknowledges the strength of others.

We may both be bad, but there’s a huge difference between us—I’m not content with being this way.

Why are you constantly escorting me places?” I say. “Isn’t there a depraved activity you’re supposed to be taking part in? Kicking puppies or spying on girls while they change, or something?

But now I’m wondering if I need it anymore, if we ever really need these words, “Dauntless,” “Erudite,” “Divergent,” “Allegiant,” or if we can just be friends or lovers or siblings, defined instead by the choices we make and the love and loyalty that binds us.

I feel bare. I didn't realize I wore my secrets as armor until they were gone and now everyone sees me as I really am.