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

It is more important for you to be safe than right, for the time being. Understand? (...) But please, when you see an opportunity...ruin them

You think giving you a hug would give away too much?" he says.
"You know," I say. "I really don't care."
I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his.
It is the best moment of my life.

He turns toward me. I want to touch him, but I’m afraid of his bareness; afraid that he will make me bare too.
‘Is this scaring you, Tris?’
‘No,’ I croak. I clear my throat. ‘Not really. I’m only…afraid of what I want.’
‘What do you want?’ Then his face tightens. ‘Me?’
Slowly I nod.

You nearly died today,' he says. 'I almost shot you. Why didn't you shoot me, Tris?'
'I couldn't do that,' I say. 'It would have been like shooting myself.'
He looks pained and leans closer to me, so his lips brush mine when he speaks.

Why do you say vague things if you don't want to be asked about them?