I wish we were alone,” he says. “I almost always wish that,” I say.

You’re too important to just … die.” He shakes his head. He won’t even look at me—his eyes keep shifting across my face, to the wall behind me or the ceiling above me, to everything but me. I am too stunned to be angry. “I’m not important. Everyone will do just fine without me,” I say. “Who cares about everyone? What about me?

It's when you're acting selflessly that you are at your bravest." --Four in Divergent

But now, I am also learning this: we can be mended. We mend each other.

My parents did love each other. Enough to forsake plans and factions. Enough to defy “faction before blood.” Blood before faction--no, love before faction, always. - Tris Prior

"But please, when you see an opportunity..." He presses his hand to my cheek, cold and strong, and tilts my head up so I have to look at him. His eyes glint. They almost look predatory. "Ruin them."

I should wonder what courage—which is the virtue they most value—has to do with a metal ring through your nostril.