Yes," Marcus says. "I understand that you are concerned -- that you all are concerned. You had never heard of the Divergent a week ago, and now all that you know is that they are immune to something to which you are susceptible, and that is a frightening thing. But I can assure you that there is nothing to be afraid of, as far as we are concerned." As he speaks, his head tilts and his eyebrows lift in sympathy, and I understand at once why some people like him. He makes you feel that if you just placed everything in his hands, he would take care of it.

He stares at me, and I don't look away. He isn't a dog, but the same rules apply. Looking away is submissive. Looking him in the eye is a challenge. It's my choice.

It happened. It was awful. You aren't perfect. That's all there is. Don't confuse your grief with guilt.

I didn't realize until that moment that Dauntless initiation had taught me an important lesson: how to keep going.

The official strategy is defensive pessimism, always.

I would be shocked by the lack of security if we were not at Amity headquarters. They often straddle the line between trust and stupidity.

It is a gift. You cannot earn it, or it ceases to be a gift.