Veronica Roth quotes:

Tris: Wait. So you have no idea what my aptitude is? Tori: Yes and No. My conclusion is that you display equal aptitude for Abnegation, Dauntless and Erudite. People who get this kind of result are..are called...Divergent.

Divergent' was my utopian world. I mean, that wasn't the plan. I never even set out to write dystopian fiction, that's just what I had when I was finished. At the beginning, I was just writing about a place I found interesting and a character with a compelling story, and as I began to build the world, I realized that it was my utopia.

I know exactly what it's like to stand on top of a tall building or in a high place and look down and go, 'Ohhhh my God.' I try to get into that place every time I write a scene like that. And definitely when I write the action scenes, I get overheated and my heart goes really fast. I get very involved.

In my own relationships, I know that I should break up with someone who doesn't encourage me to be strong and make my own choices and do what's best in my life, so if you're dating someone who doesn't want you to be the best person you can be, you shouldn't be dating them.

It will be difficult to break the habits of thinking Abnegation instilled in me, like tugging a single thread from a complex work of embroidery. But I will find new habits, new thoughts, new rules. I will become something else.

I feel like someone breathed new air into my lungs. I am not Abnegation. I am not Dauntless. I am Divergent.

Maybe it's a little depressing to think that my vision of a perfect world is actually so messed up, but I think it means that I don't really understand what 'perfect' is.

I think romance is friendship and attraction sort of meeting together and that does influence what I'm writing a lot. I try to establish the attraction, obviously, but I also think it's important to show the characters having actual conversations about things other than their feelings for each other - and to develop their friendship on the page.

Lynn, she saved half our faction from this stuff," says Marlene, tapping the bandage on her arm from where the Dauntless traitors shot herWell, half of half of our faction.""In some circles they call that a quarter, Mar," Lynn says."

I realize that the decision might be simple. It will require a great act of selflessness to choose Abnegation, or a great act of courage to choose Dauntless, and maybe just choosing one over the other will prove that I belong.

I think everyone's a little afraid of being part of a trend, because you get compared to each other. Writers tend to have a lot of camaraderie, and when you're constantly compared to someone else, it kind of damages that camaraderie, but I think this is a great trend. I'm honored to be a part of it in many ways.

As a teenager, I put a lot of pressure on myself, and a lot of that, for me, was about finding a moral high ground. As I've grown up, I've decided to abandon that because it made me judgmental and also stressed me out.

People make me key chains... someone attached a Dauntless symbol to a silver pen. That one is what I use to sign books. I use that a lot. I like to keep them around because they remind me that people are waiting for these books and that they really love them. It gives me motivation in those times when I'm not feeling very motivated.

I really like the group tour better than going it alone. First of all, it kind of takes the pressure off a little. I'm not a naturally extroverted person. But I also like it because it brings in new fans. For example, someone who really loves Aprilynne Pike's books might pick up mine and vice versa.

If you actually succeed in creating a utopia, you've created a world without conflict, in which everything is perfect. And if there's no conflict, there are no stories worth telling - or reading!

I want people to come away from my book with questions. Questions about virtue and goodness. Not answers.

Seeing people who are actually reading your book and listening to the wide variety of reactions they have to it, is really special.

I wasn't good enough for abnegation," I say, "and I wanted to be free. So I chose Dauntless." "Why weren't you good enough?" "Because I was selfish." I say. "You were selfish? You aren't anymore?" "Of course I am. My mother said that everyone is selfish," I say, "but I became less selfish in Dauntless. I discovered there were people I would fight for. Die for, even.

Few people who are born into Abnegation choose to leave it. When they do, we remember.

When you're a teenager, everything seems like the end of the world, and I don't think that's necessarily a silly thing. You're waking up and becoming aware that the world has problems and those problems affect you, whereas when you're young they don't seem to affect you that much even if you're aware of them.

Peace is restrained."

I will be my undoing If I become my obsession.

We believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another.

We believe in the ordinary acts of bravery.

When you're a writer, you hear your internal critic, and that's really hard to get over. And then sometimes you hear critiques from classmates and stuff. But when a book comes out, it's just hundreds of opinions and you have to learn to separate out the ones you want to listen to or figure out many you want to listen to.

I don't really think about what's 'age appropriate' for my audience because I think they can handle quite a bit, but I do try to think about what's honest and true to my characters who have grown up in situations where they've been taught to handle these things very carefully and that they're very powerful.

I know that I am birdlike, made narrow and small as if for taking flight, built straight-waisted and fragile. But when he touches me like he can't bear to take his hand away, I don't wish I was any different.

When he touches me, I feel like everywhere his skin meets mine is changed by the connection. It sends a thrill through my stomach. Not just fear. Something else, too. A wanting.

He slides his hand over my cheek, one finger anchored behind my ear. Then he tilts his head down and kisses me, sending a warm ache through my body. I wrap my hands around his arm, holding him there as long as I can. When he touches me, the hollowed-out feeling in my chest and stomach is not as noticeable.

You've never had a hamburger before?" asks Christine, her eyes wide."No," I sayIs that what it's called?""Stiffs eat plain food," Four says, nodding at Christina."Why?" she asks.I shrugExtravagance is considered self-indulgent and unnecessary."She smirksNo wonder you left.""Yeah," I say,rolling my eyesIt was just because of the food."The corner of Four's mouth twitches."

Our eyes meet. I hear a train horn, so faint it could be wind whistling through an alleyway. But I know it when I hear it. It sounds like the Dauntless, calling me to to them.

Pride is what killed Al, and it is the flaw in every Dauntless heart. It is in mine.

I always appreciate people's opinions, but sometimes I have to take a step back and remember why I'm writing and what I want to do with it. Shutting out the voices is difficult but it's been good for me.

Leaving us with Eric is like hiring a babysitter who spends his time sharpening knives.

I want to be brave, and selfless, and smart, and kind, and honest.

We've all started to put down the virtues of the other factions in the process of bolstering our own. I don't want to do that. I want to be brave, and selfless, and smart, and kind, and honest." He clears his throat. "I continually struggle with kindness.

Okay. Then...I can talk. Ask me something." "Okay." He laughs shakily in my ear. "Why is your heart racing Tris?" I cringe and say, "Well, I...I barely know you. I barely know you and I'm crammed up against you in a box, Four, what do you think?"... "Maybe you were cut out for Candor," he says, "because you're a terrible liar.

Are you asking me to undress, Tris?' A nervous laugh gurgles from my throat. 'Only ... partially

And I'm the kind of person who does not let inconsequential things like boys and near death experiences stop her.

I'll be your family now," he says. "I love you," I say. (....) He stares at me. I wait with my hands clutching his arms for stability as he considers his response. He frowns at me. "Say it again." "Tobias," I say, "I love you.

I reach out and take his hand. His fingers slide between mine. I can't breathe.

How is it I know this little about the boy who says he loves me-

Sorry, am I being rude?" she asks. "I'm used to saying whatever is on my mind. Mom used to say that politeness is deception in pretty packaging

I wipe my face with my sleeve, laughing so hard my stomach hurts. If my entire life is like this, loud laughter and bold action and the kind of exhaustion you feel after a hard but satisfying day, I will be content.

Did you ever meet someone named Caleb?" I say. 'Caleb," Fernando says. "Yes, there was a Caleb in my initiate class. Brilliant, but he was... what's the colloquial term for it? A suck-up." he smirks.

You want him to walk?" Caleb demands. "Are you insane?" "Did I shoot him in the leg?" I say. "No. He walks. Where do we go, Peter?

Caleb," I say, "I love you." His eyes gleam with tear as he says, "I love you, too, Beatrice.

Caleb and Tris exchange a look. The skin on his face and on her knuckles is nearly the same colour, purple-blue-green, as if drawn with ink. This is what happens when siblings collide - they injure each other in the same way.

i happen to enjoy categorization.

A chasm reminds us that there is a fine line between bravery and idiocy.

I choose him over and over again, and he chooses me.

I fell in love with him. But I don't just stay with him by default as if there's no one else available to me. I stay with him because I choose to, every day that I wake up, every day that we fight or lie to each other or disappoint each other. I choose him over and over again, and he chooses me.

I feel the monster of grief again, writhing in the empty space where my heart and stomach used to be. I gasp, pressing both palms to my chest. Now the monstrous thing has its claws around my throat, squeezing my airway. I twist and put my head between my knees, breathing until the strangled feeling leaves me.

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

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.

Becoming fearless isn't the point. That's impossible. It's learning how to control your fear, and how to be free from it.

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.

You chose us. Now we have to choose you.

Courageous? Courageous would have been admitting weakness and leaving Dauntless, no matter what shame accompanied it. Pride is what killed Al, and it is the flaw in every Dauntless heart. It is in mine.

We believe that preparation eradicates cowardice, which we define as the failure to act in the midst of fear.

No matter how long you train someone to be brave, you never know if they are or not until something real happens.

This is how we came by our factions: Candor, Erudite, Amity, Abnegation and Dauntless." Max smiles. "In them we find administrators and teachers and counselors and leaders and protectors. In them we find our sense of belonging, our sense of community, our very lives.

I expect to weave through the crowd, dodging elbows and muttering "excuse me" the way I always do, but there is no need. Becoming Dauntless has made me noticable.

Can you tell me where to find Tobias'? I ask. When I imagine his face, affection for him bubbles up inside of me and all I want to do is kiss him. 'Four, I mean. He's so handsome, isn't he? I don't really understand why he likes me so much. I'm not very nice, am I?' -Tris

What?" I ask. "I'm developing a theory." "And it is?" She picks up her hamburger, grins, and says, "That you have a death wish.

Decades ago, our ancestors realized that it is not just political ideology, religious belief, race, or nationalism that is to blame for a warring world. Rather, they determined that it was the fault of human personality - of humankind's inclination towards evil, in whatever form that is. They divided into factions that sought to eradicate those qualities they believed responsible for the world's disarray.

It's when you're acting selflessly that you are at your bravest." --Four in Divergent

I'm Divergent. And I can't be controlled.

Because there might come a day when there is no flashlight, there is no gun, there is no guiding hand. And I want to be ready for it." (divergent pg.138)

From your results I have determined that you are one of the strongest Divergent, which I say not to compliment you but to explain my purpose. If I am to develop a simulation that cannot be thwarted by the Divergent mind, I must study the strongest Divergent mind in order to shore up all weaknesses in the technology.

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

There are no safe rooms, no safe truths, no safe secrets to tell.

Trust me when I tell you, Eaton boy, that resisting is worth doing.

You're not very nice," I say, grinning. "You're one to talk." "Hey, I could be nice if I tried." "Hmm." He taps his chin. "Say something nice, then." "You're very good-looking." He smiles, his teeth a flash in this dark. "I like this 'nice' thing.

I do trust you, is what I want to say. But it isn't true -- I didn't trust him to love me despite the terrible things I had done. I don't trust anyone to do that, but that isn't his problem; it's mine.

Sometimes drastic change requires drastic measures.

Ignore them. They don't know what it is to make a difficult decision." "You wouldn't have done it, I bet." "That is only because I have been taught to be cautious when I don't know all the information, and you have been taught that risks can produce great rewards.

Is there any other way to Erudite headquarters?" I say. "Not that I now of," says Cara. "Unless you want to jump from one roof to another." She laughs a little as she says it, like it's a joke. I raise my eyebrows at her. "Wait," she says. "You aren't considering---?

I also wanted to ask you if we can talk to the Erudite you're keeping safe here," I say. "I know they're hidden, but I need access to them." "And what do you intend to do?" she says. "Shoot them," I say, rolling my eyes. "That isn't funny.

Grabbing hold of facts in the midst of shock is very Erudite of him.

Candor does not provide us with protection, sustenance, or technological innovation. Therefore you are expendable to us.

And I provide much- needed eye candy.

Faction before blood.

In our factions, we find meaning, we find purpose, we find life.

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.

A breeze blows through the alley, pushing me to one side, and I think of scaling the Ferris wheel with Tobias. He kept me steady then. There is no one left to keep me steady now.

I keep finding myself stifled by the company of others and then crippled by loneliness when I leave them. I am terrified and I don't even know of what, because I have lost everything already.

That execution will take place here." She runs her fingertips over the table beneath her. "On this table. I thought it would be interesting to show you." "I knew what would happen when I came here," I say. "It's just a table. And I'd like to go back to my room now.

Or you can stay frigid," says WIll, his green eyes glinting with mischief. "You know. If you want." Christina throws a roll at him. He catches it and bites it. "Don't be mean to her," she says. "Frigidity is in her nature. Sort of like being a know-it-all is in yours." "I am not frigid!" I exclaim. "Don't worry about it," says Will. It's endearing. Look you're all red.

An artist gives. Gives visually, gives through courses, or with free advice, through generosity of spirit and through a need to share.

May the peace of God be with you," she says, her voice low, "even in the midst of trouble." "Why would it?" I say softly, so no one else can hear. "After all I've done..." "It isn't about you," she says. "It is a gift. You cannot earn it, or it ceases to be a gift.

Fear doesn't shut you down; it wakes you up. I've seen it. It's fascinating." He releases me but doesn't pull away, his hand grazing my jaw, my neck. "Sometimes I just...want to see it again. Want to see you awake.

she sighs, then breaks a piece off the muffin in my hand. 'Hey. There are plenty more just five feet to your right.' 'then you shouldn't be so concerned about losing some of yours.' she says, grinning. 'Fair enough.

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.

Maybe there's more we all could have done, but we just have to let the guilt remind us to do better next time.

I have never had parents who set good examples, parents whose expectations were worth living up to, but she did. I can see them within her, the courage and the beauty they pressed into her like a handprint.

Some things are hard to let go of.

I guess I always knew there was something wrong with me, but I thought it was because of my father, or my mother, and the pain they bequeathed to me like a family heirloom, handed down from generation to generation. - Tobias Eaton

I am selfish. I am brave.

I love you" I say. "I love you, too" he says. "I'll see you soon.

I can't tell him I need him. I can't need him, period -- or really, we can't need each other, because who knows how long either of us will last in this war?

That said, in the two weeks before I leave for the Dark Days tour, I am going radio silent, which means I will be avoiding the Internet at all costs in order to revise, revise, revise. I will miss you. Tris says hi, though.

I didn't know that idiocy caused people to just start spontaneously bleeding from the nose.

I started writing because I decided I was too old to play pretend in the backyard. Then I found that I could create those imaginary worlds on the page.

I feel like what I have become is halfway between my mother and my father, violent and impulsive and desperate and afraid. I feel like I have lost control of what I have become.

Because even a sliver of distance between us is infuriating.

Insurgent, he says. Noun. A person who acts in opposition to the established authority, who is not necessarily regarded as a belligerent.

One choice can transform you. One choice can destroy you. Once choice will define you.

No. Because it's so stupid no Dauntless with any sense would speak it, let alone think it. Pansycake. What are you, twelve?" "And a half," he says.

What did you do?" I scream. "You die, I die too.

You're too important to just... die.

In 'Insurgent' we realise how large the world really is

I don't really control the story. I just let it go where it wants to go. I have no idea what's going to happen in the end or who's going to live, so it's kind of like me saying, "I don't know, guys! Just wait." That's what I'm doing!

Maybe time would not feel as heavy if I didn't have this guilt -- the guilt of knowing the truth and stuffing it down where no one can see it, not even Tobias. Maybe I should not be so afraid of saying anything, because honesty will make me feel lighter.

Knowledge is power. Power to do evil...or power to do good. Power itself is not evil. So knowledge itself is not evil.

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.

Valuing knowledge above all else results in a lust for power, and that leads men into dark and empty places.

Yeah, sometimes life really sucks," she says. "But you know what I'm holding on for?" I raise my eyebrows. She raises hers, too, mimicking me. "The moments that don't suck," she says. "The trick is to notice them when they come around.

Hearing him talk about his mother, about his intact family, makes my chest hurt for a second, like someone pierced it with a needle.

I'm surprised you know that," I say quietly, " since you left halfway through my one and only fight." "It wasn't something I wanted to watch." he says. What's that supposed to mean?