Sleep,” he says. “I'll fight the bad dreams off if they come to get you.” “With what?” “My bare hands, obviously.

Tris.” I keep staring. “Tris.” I finally look at him. “I just don’t want to lose you.

Today you will choose your factions. Until this point you have followed your parents’ paths, your parents’ rules. Today you will find your own path, make your own rules.

I get up, because I’m supposed to, but if it were up to me, I’d stay in my seat for the rest of time.

I suppose everything is bound to look different when you aren't on your way to die.

Sometimes I just... want to see it again. Want to see you awake.

Four grabs a bar with each hand and pulls himself up, easy, like he's sitting up in bed. But he is not comfortable or natural here--- every muscle in his arm stands out. it is a stupid thing for me to think when I am one hundred feet off the ground.