People, I have discovered, are layers and layers of secrets. You believe you know them, that you understand them, but their motives are always hidden from you, buried in their own hearts. You will never know them, but sometimes you decide to trust them.

He's one of the last friends I have," she says, her voice breaking. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to look at you the same way again.

The person you became with her is worth being.

Sometimes all I want is to be a few inches taller so the world does not look like a dense collection of torsos.

Why do people want to pretend that death is sleep? It isn't. It isn't.

It reminds me why I chose Dauntless in the first place: not because they are perfect, but because they are alive. Because they are free.

I smirk as Peter misses again. I can't help myself. "Hey, Peter," I say, " Remember what a target is?