Hearing him talk about his mother, about his intact family, makes my chest hurt for a second, like someone pierced it with a needle.

Yeah, well," I say, "I left Abnegation because I wasn't selfless enough, no matter how hard I tried to be." "That's not entirely true." He smiles at me. "That girl who let someone throw knives at her to spare a friend, who hit my dad with a belt to protect me-that selfless girl, that's not you?"... "You've been paying close attention, haven't you?" "I like to observe people/" "Maybe you were cut out for Candor, Four, because you're a terrible liar.

I would rather be dead than empty

I forget that he is another person; instead it feels like he is another part of me, just as essential as a heart or an eye or an arm.

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?

Oh for god's sake. I'll just carry you.

I feel like someone breathed new air into my lungs. I am not Abnegation. I am not Dauntless. I am Divergent.