I tell myself, as sternly as possible, that is how things work here. We do dangerous things and people die. People die, and we move on to the next dangerous thing. The sooner that lesson sinks in, the better chance I have at surviving initiation.

Learning how to think in the midst of fear is a lesson that everyone needs to learn.

I settle into their pace. The uniform pounding of feet in my ears and the homogeneity of the people around me makes me believe that I could choose this. I could be subsumed into Abnegation’s hive mind, projecting always outward.

Pride is what killed Al, and it is the flaw in every Dauntless heart. It is in mine.

I have realized that part of being Dauntless is being willing to make things more difficult for yourself in order to be self-sufficient.

I feel like someone is pressing me into a mold that does not fit my body, forcing me intothe wrong shape.

He should be the one to die, part of me thinks. I don't want to lose him, another part argues. I don't know which part to believe.