I see a kind of thirst in her expression, the same one I saw when she told me about her brother in the back room of the tattoo parlor. Before the attack simulation I might have called it a thirst for justice, or even revenge, but now I am able to identify it as a thirst for blood. And even as it frightens me, I understand it. Which should probably frighten me even more.

Soon I will honor my parents by dying as they died. and if all they believed about death was true, soon I will join them in whatever comes next.

I'm not Dauntless - I'm Divergent. I am whatever I choose to be.

If you are really one of us, it won't matter to you that you might fail. And if it does, you are a coward.

Ingenuity requires creativity.

I open the door to the fear landscape room and flip open the small black box that was in my back pocket to see the syringes inside. This is the box I have always used, padded around the needles; it is a sign of something sick inside me, or something brave.

Now she looks pale and small, but her eyes make me think of wide- open skies that I have never actually seen, only dreamed of.