I am wearing a gray shirt, blue jeans, black shoes--new clothes, but beneath them, my Dauntless tattoos. It is impossible to erase my choices. Especially these.

A lot can happen to a person's appearance in three months.

I know I belong in Dauntless because everything I did in that aptitude test told me so. I'm loyal to my faction for that reason -- because there's nowhere else I could possibly be. But her? And you?" She shakes her head. "I have no idea who you're loyal to. And I'm not going to pretend like everything's okay.

We don't know what's happened out there since they put us in here, or how many generations have lived and died since they did.We could be the last people left.

You are holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it.

That execution will take place here." She runs her fingertips over the table beneath her. "On this table. I thought it would be interesting to show you." "I knew what would happen when I came here," I say. "It's just a table. And I'd like to go back to my room now.

I’d rather eat out of a can than be strangled by a faction.