Veronica Roth Quotes

People are supossed to aspire to become their fathers, not shudder at the thought.

She tries to turn too soon, and the ladder smacks into Fernando's shoulder. "Oh! Sorry, Nando." The jolt knocks his glasses askew. He smiles at Christina and takes the glasses off, shoving them into his pocket. "Nando?" I say to him. "I thought the Erudite didn't like nicknames?" "When a pretty girl calls you by a nickname," he says, "it is only logical to respond to it.

He is not sweet or gentle or particularly kind. But he is smart and brave, and even though he saved me, he treated me like I was strong. That is all I need to know.

She must love me, to worry about me. She must still be capable of love.

I understand why she did all those things, but that doesn't mean we aren't still broken.

The gun goes off. I fall.

"But please, when you see an opportunity..." He presses his hand to my cheek, cold and strong, and tilts my head up so I have to look at him. His eyes glint. They almost look predatory. "Ruin them."

How have I never realized before that for all the strong, kind parts of him, there are also hurting, broken parts?

You're more than Dauntless," he says in a low voice. "But if you want to be just like them, hurling yourself into ridiculous situations for no reason and retaliating against your enemies without any regard for what's ethical, go right ahead. I thought you were better than that, but maybe I was wrong.

Humans can't tolerate emptiness for long.

His absence will haunt their hallways, and he will be a space they can't fill. And then time will pass, and the hole will be gone, like when an organ is removed and the body's fluids flow into the space it leaves. Humans can't tolerate emptiness for long.

I didn't realize until that moment that Dauntless initiation had taught me an important lesson: how to keep going.

I wonder if this is how is is with all evil men, that to someone, they look just like good men, talk like good men, are just as likable as good men.

Did you just call me BEATRICE?

It reminds me that no embrace will ever feel the same again, because no one will ever be like her again, because she's gone. She's gone, and crying feels so useless, so stupid, but it's all I can do.

Sarcasm is always at someone's expense.

though he does not touch me, he steadies me.

I shield my eyes from the sun to see her cold look—the expression I saw in my mind even before I looked at her. She looks older to me than she ever has, stern and tough and worn by time. I feel that way, too. “These people have no regard for human life,” she says. “They’re about to wipe the memories of all our friends and neighbors. They’re responsible for the deaths of a large majority of our old faction.” She sidesteps me and marches toward the door. “I think they’re lucky I’m not going to kill them.

I point at a window to my left, and it explodes. Particles of glass rain over us. ‘You’ll have to do better than that,' I say.

Oh for god's sake. I'll just carry you.

She tips her chin up and looks at me with that Abnegation stubbornness I know so well. She may have left them, but they are what’s making her strong.

She believes that Tobias belongs to her now. She doesn't know the truth, that he belongs to himself.

Peter would probably throw a party if I stopped breathing.' 'Well,' he says, 'I would only go if there was cake.

Eyes open, then," I say, tapping the skin between my eyebrows. I don’t really need her eyes to be on mine, but I feel better when they are.

I do like to hit people-I like the explosion of power and energy, and the feeling that I am untouchable because I can hurt people. But I hate that part of myself, because it is the part of me that is the most broken

Sometimes crying or laughing are the only options left, and laughing feels better right now.

I was angry with him before. I’m not really sure why. Maybe I was just angry that the world had become such a complicated place, that I have never known even a fraction of the truth about it. Or that I allowed myself to grieve for someone who was never really gone, the same way I grieved for my mother all the years I thought she was dead. Tricking someone into grief is one of the cruelest tricks a person can play, and it’s been played on me twice.

My first instinct is to push you until you break just to see how hard I have to press.

I have to admit that Christina is good—though I don’t like giving credit to Candor smart-mouths—and so is Peter—though I don’t like giving credit to future psychopaths.

Can I be forgiven for all I've done to get here? I want to be. I can. I believe it.

Let's just hug already," he says. Keeping one hand firm on Caleb's arm, I wrapped my free arm around Zeke, and he does the same. When we break apart, I pull Caleb down the alley, and can't resist calling back, "I'll miss you." "You too, sweetie!" He grins, and his teeth are white in the twilight. They are the last thing I see of him before I have to turn and set out at a trot for the train.

I could never hurt him enough to make his betrayal stop hurting. And it hurts, in every part of my body.

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.

I am collecting the lessons each faction has to teach me, and storing them in my mind like a guidebook for moving through the world. There is always somthing to learn, always somthing that is important to understand

The opinions of others cannot damage you.

I traded cowardice for cruelty; I traded weakness for ferocity.

Maybe forgiveness is just the continual pushing aside of bitter memories, until time dulls the hurt and anger, and the wrong is forgotten.

Creemos enla valentía. Creemos en tomar acciones. Creemos en la liberarnos del miedo y en la adquisición de habilidades necesarias para obligar a que lo malos salga de nuestro mundo para que el bien pueda prosperar y florecer

You know what Abnegation used to say about pride?' 'Something unfavorable,I assume.' I laugh.' Obviously. They said it blinds people to the truth of what they are.

I hear my heartbeat. I have been looking at him too long, but then, he has been looking back, and I feel like we are both trying to say something the other can't hear, though I could be imagining it. Too long - and now even longer, my heart even louder, his tranquil eyes swallowing me whole.

The shouts of triumph become infectious, and I lift my voice to join in, running toward my teammates. Christina holds the flag up high, and everyone clusters around her, grabbing her arm to lift the flag even higher. I can't reach her, so I stand off to the side, grinning. A hand touches my shoulder. "Well done," Four says quietly.

She has been to the compound before. She remembered this hallway. She knows about the initiation process. My mother was Dauntless.

That is how it feels. Like everything between us is twisted together, friendship and love and family, so I cant tell the difference between any of them.

I've done without doing things, like sleeping and eating, but I need to write.

If utopian fiction became the new trend, I wouldn't read it.

I forget that he is another person; instead it feels like he is another part of me, just as essential as a heart or an eye or an arm.

Your daughter is doing well here. I've been overseeing her training." Since when does "overseeing" include throwing knives at me and scolding me at every opportunity?

So now we all know," says Four, quietly, "that you are afraid of a short, skinny girl from Abnegation." His mouth curls into a smile.