Insurgent (novel)

"One choice can destroy you"

"I nod. Its sounds like a good plan—a smart plan. But I don't believe him—I don't believe it's more important to move forward that to find out the truth. When I found out that I was Divergent…when I found out that Erudite would attack Abnegation…those revelations changed everything. The truth has a way of changing a person's plans."

"Tobias Eaton is a powerful name."

"You are not your parents. You are a sixteen-year-old girl—" I grit my teeth. "How dare you—" "—who doesn't understand the value of sacrifice lies in its necessity, not in throwing your life away! And if you do that again, you and I are done." I wasn't expecting him to say that. "You're giving me an ultimatum?" I try to keep my voice down so the others can't hear. He shakes his head. "No, I'm telling you a fact." His lips are just a line. "If you throw yourself into danger for no reason again, you will have become nothing more than a Dauntless adrenaline junkie looking for a hit, and I'm not going to help you do it." He spits the words out bitterly. "I love Tris the Divergent, who makes decisions apart from faction loyalty, who isn't some faction archetype. But the Tris who's trying as hard as she can to destroy believe you're still in there," he says against my mouth. "Come back."

"Breathing—who cares about breathing? I turn from the sight, listening to my heart beat in my ears. Christina's mouth moves. I ignore her, and walk to the door and down the stairs and down the hallway and into the elevator. The doors close and as I drop to the earth, just as Marlene did a"

"I read somewhere, once, that crying defies scientific explanation. Tears are only meant to lubricate the eyes. There is no real reason for tear glands to overproduce tears at the behest of emotion. I think we cry to release the animal parts of us without losing our humanity. Because inside me is a beast that snarls and growls, and strains toward freedom, toward Tobias, and above all, toward life. And as hard as I try, I cannot kill it. So I sob into my hands instead."

"I'm going to die tomorrow. It has been a long time since I felt certainty about anything, so this feels like a gift. Tonight, nothing. Tomorrow, whatever comes after life."

"My toes are cold. My feet stick to the tiles. We turn a corner, and I hear muffled shouts. At first I can't tell what the voice is saying, but as we draw closer, it takes shape. "I want to…her!" Tobias. "I…see her!" I glance at Peter. "I can't speak to him on last time, can I?" Peter shakes his head. "There's a window, though. Maybe if he see's you he'll finally shut up." He takes me down a dead-end corridor that's only six feet long. At the end is a door, and Peter is right, there's a small window near the top, about a foot above my head. "Tris!" Tobias's voice is even clearer here. "I want to see her!" I reach up and press my hand to the glass. The shouts stop, and his face appears behind the glass. His eyes are red; his face, blotchy. Handsome. He stares at me for a few seconds and then presses his hand to the glass so it lines up with mine. I pretend I can feel the warmth of it through the window."

"Peter slips an electrode beneath the collar of my shirt and presses it to my chest, right over my heart. He then attaches a wire to the electrode and switched on the heart monitor. I hear my heartbeat, fast and strong. Soon, where that steady rhythm was, there will be nothing. And then rising from within me is a single thought: I don't want to die."

"I look around. We are inside the incinerator, which would be completely dark if not for the lines of light glowing in the shape of a small door on the other side. The floor is solid metal in some places and metal grating in others. Everything smells like rotting garbage and fire. "Don't say I never took you anywhere nice," Peter says. "Wouldn't dream of it," I say."

""Got that gun?" Peter says to Tobias. "No," says Tobias, "I figured I would shoot the bullets out of my nostrils, so I left it upstairs."

""I don't…" I sound like I am being strangled. "My family is all dead, or traitors; how can I…" I am not making any sense. The sobs take over my body, my mind, everything. He gathers me to him, and bathwater soaks my legs. His hold is tight. I listen to his heartbeat and, after a while, find a way to let the rhythm calm me. "I'll be your family now," he says."