“And as for going into a bookstore and not finding a book suitable for your 13-year-old...maybe you should do some research before you go in? And I'm being serious here. There are a bunch of great blogs that will tell you the content of books. Reading Teen is one of them, and I've seen others, and I love what they do because they make YA books feel safe to protective parents. There are plenty of YA books that celebrate joy and beauty. Now, I would argue that many of them are also the "dark" books to which the article refers, and that saying they aren't suggests a pretty inattentive reader...but that's neither here nor there. I'm not trying to bicker with the careful parents. I'm just saying: do some research and you'll be surprised what you find.So, that's what I'm going to say about it.”

“I'm not going to pretend to know what's going on with you," he says. "But if you senselessly risk your life again -- ""I am not senselessly risking my life. I am trying to make sacrifices, like my parents would have, like -- ""You are not your parents You are a sixteen-year-old girl --"I grit my teeth. "How dare you -- ""-- who doesn't understand that the value of a sacrifice lies in its necessity, not in throwing your life away! And if you do that again, you and I are done.”

“I have something I need to tell you," he says. I run my fingers along the tendons in his hands and look back at him. "I might be in love with you." He smiles a little. "I'm waiting until I'm sure to tell you, though.""That's sensible of you," I say, smiling too. "We should find some paper so you can make a list or a chart or something."I feel his laughter against my side, his nose sliding along my jaw, his lips pressing my ear."Maybe I'm already sure," he says, "and I just don't want to frighten you."I laugh a little. "Then you should know better.""Fine," he says. "Then I love you.”

“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.”

“I think they know we're talking about them," I say."So? They already know I hate them.""They do? How?"Christina fakes a smile at them and waves. I look down, my cheeks warm. I shouldn't be gossiping anyway. Gossiping is self-indulgent.Will hooks a foot around one of Al's legs and yanks back,knocking Al to the ground. Al scrambles to his feet."Because I've told them," she says, through the gritted teeth of her smile. Her teeth are straight on top and crooked on the bottom.She looks at me. "We try to be pretty honest about our feelings in Candor. Plenty of people have told me that they don't like me.And plenty of people haven't. Who cares?""We just...weren't supposed to hurt people," I say."I like to think I'm helping them by hating them," she says. "I'm reminding them that they aren't God's gift to humankind.”

“We could visit him," suggests Will. "But what would we say? 'I didn't know you that well, but I'm sorry you got stabbed in the eye'?”

“It's wrong," he says. "It doesn't matter if your parents are in a better place, they aren't here with you, and that's wrong, Tris. It shouldn't have happened. It shouldn't have happened to you. And anyone who tells you it's okay is a liar.”