“Explain to me again how matricide is illegal in some states,” Sissy growled from behind him as he pulled her toward the enormous staircase.“In all states. Plus, I think there are some moral restrictions around it, too.”“That’s not fair. Clearly, these lawmakers haven’t met my mother.”“I wouldn’t know. Besides, this is all so foreign to me,” he explained once they hit the top step.“My mother loves me and would do anything for me, so I’ve never had a desire to kill her.” Light brown eyes abruptly narrowed. “Throw that in my face again, and your sweet momma will benursing your mauled body back to health.”“Sweet talker.”

“So I thought your mother and sister might have some insights to share. After all, your mother had five kids and– (Livia)Stop! I don’t even want to think about my mother having sex with my father. I know for a fact that she was artificially inseminated and he never touched her. Grandpa Zamir told me so and I believe him. (Adron)That’s not what she says. (Livia)Am I not in enough pain that you’d torture me with this shit on top of it? What did I ever do to you to make you want to kill me? (Adron)”

“...and again she wished for Sherwood, and the dappled roof of leaves that never weighed upon her. She pulled her scarf closer around her and thought, I would rather live in a hut in the woods; a hut like the one of my first memories, with a clean-swept dirt floor, and a brown-eyed boy watching me from behind his mother's skirts as I watched him from behind mine.”

“I love my mother for all the times she said absolutely nothing.... Thinking back on it all, it must have been the most difficult part of mothering she ever had to do: knowing the outcome, yet feeling she had no right to keep me from charting my own path. I thank her for all her virtues, but mostly for never once having said, "I told you so.”

“The shot doesn't come. He stares at me with the same ferocity but doesn't move. Why doesn't he shoot me? His heart pounds against my palms,and my own heart lifts. He is Divergent. He can fight this simulation.Any simulation."Tobias," I say. "It's me."I step forward and wrap my arms around him. His body is stiff. His heart beats faster. I can feel it against my cheek. A thud against my cheek. A thud as the gun hits the floor.He grabs my shoulders-too hard, his fingers digging into my skin where the bullet was. I cry out as he pulls me back. Maybe he means to kill me in some crueler way."Tris," he says,and it's him again. His mouth collides with mine. His arm wraps around me and he lifts me up, holding me against him, his hands clutching at my back. His face and the back of his neck are slick with sweat, his body is shaking,and my shoulder blazes with pain,but I don't care,I don't care,I don't care.He sets me down and stares at me, his fingers brushing over my forehead, my eyebrows,my cheeks, my lips.Something like a sob and a sigh and a moan escapes him,and he kisses me again. His eyes are bright with tears. I never thought I would see Tobias cry. It makes me hurt.I pull myself to his chest and cry into his shirt. All the throbbing in my head comes back,and the ache in my shoulder,and I feel like my body weight doubles.I lean against him, and he supports me."How did you do it?" I say."I don't know," he says. "I just hear your voice.”

“When I asked my father whether he thought that it was possible that his mother was raped behind that closed door, he said, "She had washer-woman knees. No one could possibly think of her as a sexual object. Besides," he explained, "she would have told my sisters, and they would have told me." I am not so sure. Maybe someone needed to ask her. Someone needed to want to know, to be able to hear the answer.”