My father has a way of persuading people without charm that has always confused me. He states his opinions as if they’re facts, and somehow his complete lack of doubt makes you believe him. That quality frightens me now, because I know what he told me: that I was broken, that I was worthless, that I was nothing. How many of those things did he make me believe?

I laugh shakily. ‘You’re a little scary, Four.’ ‘Do me a favor,’ he says, ‘and don’t call me that.’ ‘What should I call you, then?’ ‘Nothing.’ He takes his hand from my face. ‘Yet.

It's like he knows, he knows I have a thing for her.

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

I was so afraid that we would just keep colliding over and over again if we stayed together, and that eventually the impact would break me. But now I know I am like the blade and he is like the whetstone- I am too strong to break so easily, and I become better, sharper, every time I touch him.

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

Not like Tobias, who is almost shy when he smiles, like he is surprised you bothered to look at him in the first place.