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Veronica roth insights

Explore a captivating collection of Veronica roth’s most profound quotes, reflecting his deep wisdom and unique perspective on life, science, and the universe. Each quote offers timeless inspiration and insight.

Sometimes, the best way to help someone is just to be near them.

It's strange how a word, a phrase, a sentence, can feel like a blow to the head.

The cruelty of fate is that I must travel with the people I hate when the people I love are dead behind me.

In that moment I know exactly what I want; I want to peel away all the layers of clothing between us, strip away everything that separates us, the past and the present and the future.

I watch her blond head until it disappears around the bend, and I feel bare, like there's nothing left to protect me against pain. Her absence stings worst of all.

Dauntless: being brave in the midst of fear.

Choices can be made again." -Evelyn Johnson (Eaton)

How have I never realized before that for all the strong, kind parts of him, there are also hurting, broken parts?

What did you do, memorize a map of the city for fun?” says Christina. “Yes,” says Will, looking puzzled. “Didn’t you?

Let the guilt teach you how to behave next time.

What is it with you today?” says Christina on the way to breakfast. Her eyes are still swollen from sleep and her tangled hair forms a fuzzy halo around her face. “Oh, you know,” I say. “Sun shining. Birds chirping.” She raises an eyebrow at me, as if reminding me that we are in an underground tunnel.

Change, like healing, takes time.

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

There are so many ways to be brave in this world. Sometimes it involves giving up everything you have ever known, or everyone you have ever loved for the sake of something greater.

Just as I have insisted on his worth, he has always insisted on my strength, insisted that my capacity is greater than I believe. And I know, without being told, that's what love does, when it's right-it makes you more than you were, more than you thought you could be. This is right.

...there is power in self-sacrifice.

Some people believe that I will go nowhere, and maybe they're right, but maybe they're not.

I traded cowardice for cruelty; I traded weakness for ferocity.

In order to have peace, we must first have trust.

Do remember, though, that sometimes the people you oppress become mightier than you would like.

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.

I met him while I was imprisoned," I say, and my voice sounds far away even to me. "I was just curious." "I wouldn't judge him too harshly," says Fernando. "Jeanine can be extraordinarily persuasive to those who aren't naturally suspicious. I have always been naturally suspicious." ... "Yeah," I say. "So have I.

It's not that I ever sat down and outlined a trilogy, but I always have a sense of what size an idea is when I start it.

I wonder if fears ever really go away, or if they just lose their power over us.

It isn’t right to wish pain on other people just because they hurt me first.

Reading is such a huge part of my life.

Tris.” I keep staring. “Tris.” I finally look at him. “I just don’t want to lose you.

If I let a little of the emotion out, all of it will come out, and it will never end.

She can't possibly be me, though she moves when I move

My mother told me once that we can't survive alone, but even if we could, we wouldn't want to. Without a faction we have no purpose and no reason to live.

Part of me wonders if this is a suicide mission disguised as a game.

Grief is not as heavy as guilt, but it takes more away from you.

There is always somthing to learn, always somthing that is important to understand

I suppose that now would be the time to ask for forgiveness for all the things I've done, but I'm sure my list would never be complete. I also don't believe that whatever comes after life depends on my correctly reciting a list of my transgressions...I don't believe that what comes after depends on anything I do at all.

Human reason can excuse any evil.

Then I realize what it is. It's him. Something about him makes me feel like I am about to fall. Or turn to liquid. Or burst into flames.

You don’t believe things because they make your life better, you believe them because they’re true.

The fire, the fire. It rages within, a campfire and then an inferno, and my body is its fuel. I feel it racing through me, eating away at the weight. There is nothing that can kill me now; I am powerful and invincible and eternal.

I can’t answer either question. But the look she gives me reminds me of the look in the attack dog’s eyes in the aptitude test – a vicious, predatory stare. She wants to rip me to pieces. I can’t lie down in submission now. I have become an attack dog too.

His fingers slide into my hair, and I hold on to his arms to stay steady as we press together like two blades at a stalemate. He is stronger than anyone I know, and warmer than anyone else realizes; he is a secret that I have kept, and will keep for the rest of my life.

A brave man acknowledges the strength of others.

That's what love does. When it's right, it makes you more than you were, more than you thought you could be.

I've done without doing things, like sleeping and eating, but I need to write.

Being honest doesn't mean you say whatever you want, wherever you want. It means that what you choose to say is true.

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

I'm a fairly religious person, so I believe in some things that sound a little crazy I'm sure, depending on where you're standing. I believe in leaving room for things that you can't explain in the universe, and you don't have to be religious to leave room for those things.

Do I look like I’ve been crying?’ I say. ‘Hmm.’ He leans in close, narrowing his eyes like he’s inspecting my face. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Even closer, so we would be breathng the same air- if I could remember to breathe. ‘No, Tris,’ he says. A more serious look replaces his smile as he adds, ‘You look tough as nails.

Ingenuity requires creativity.

I'll say it one last time: Be brave.

I am a naturally curious person. -Tris

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 will be my undoing If I become my obsession.

For a few minutes we kiss, deep in the chasm, with the roar of water all around us. And we rise, hand in hand, I realize that if we had both chosen differently, we might have ended up doing the same thing, in a safer place, in gray clothes instead of black ones.

At home I used to spend calm, pleasant nights with my family. My mother knit scarves for the neighborhood kids. My father helped Caleb with his homework. There was a fire in the fireplace and peace in my heart, as I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing, and everything was quiet. I have never been carried around by a large boy, or laughed until my stomach hurt at the dinner table, or listened to the clamor of a hundred people all talking at once. Peace is restrained; this is free.

We kiss again and this time, it feels familiar. I know exactly how we fit together, his arm around my waist, my hands on his chest, the pressure of his lips on mine. We have each other memorized.

I laugh, and it's laughter, not light, that casts out the darkness building within me, that reminds me I am still alive, even in this strange place where everything I've ever known is coming apart.

I don't want to stop you. I want you to stop yourself.

Not writing is as important as writing - go out into the world and remember how interesting it, and the people in it, are.

Sometimes drastic change requires drastic measures.

I know that change is difficult, and comes slowly, and that it is the work of many days strung together in a long line until the origin of them is forgotten.

My skepticism is strong, but my curiosity is stronger.

You can't be fearless, remember? Because you still care about things. About your life.

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

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

Desperation can make a person do surprising things.

But when I do feel all the strength go out of me, and I fall to my knees beside the table and I think I cry, then, or at least I want to, and everything inside me screams for just one more kiss, one more word, one more glance, one more.

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

Because even a sliver of distance between us is infuriating.

People, I have discovered, are layers and layers of secrets. You believe you know them, that you understand them, but their motives are always hidden from you, buried in their own hearts. You will never know them, but sometimes you decide to trust them.

The opinions of others cannot damage you.

And sometimes, if you want the truth, you have to demand it.

My name is Four,” I say. “Call me ‘Stiff’ again and you and I will have a problem.

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

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.

Noise and activity are the refuges of the bereaved and the guilty.

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 know that I'll be writing for young adults for a long time. Mostly because I just love the readers and the teachers and librarians that I interact with.

I think they're going to force us to eat lots of cake and then take an unreasonably long nap.

It's strange how time can make a place shrink, make its strangeness ordinary.

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

People, even genetically damaged people, make choices. That’s what matters.’

Not like Tobias, who is almost shy when he smiles, like he is surprised you bothered to look at him in the first place.

Human reason can excuse any evil; that is why it's so important that we don't rely on it.

It reminds me that no embrace will ever feel the same again, because no one will ever be like her again, because she's gone. She's gone, and crying feels so useless, so stupid, but it's all I can do.

It doesn't prove anything except that you're bullying us. Which, as I recall, is a sign of cowardice.

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

Writing means not just staring ugliness in the face, but finding a way to embrace it.

You know, there's a word for big, strong men who attack women, and it's coward.

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

Killing you is not the worst thing they can do to you," I say. "Controlling you is.

I am collecting the lessons each faction has to teach me, and storing them in my mind like a guidebook for moving through the world. There is always somthing to learn, always somthing that is important to understand

You won," Four mutters. "Stop." I wipe the sweat from my forehead. He stares at me. His eyes are too wide; they look alarmed.

But now, I am also learning this: we can be mended. We mend each other.

We believe in shouting for those who can only whisper, in defending those who cannot defend themselves.

There is a difference between admitting and confessing. Admitting involves softening, making excuses for things that cannot be excused; confessing just names the crimes at its full severity.

Sometimes all I want is to be a few inches taller so the world does not look like a dense collection of torsos.

Shh,” I say. “Arms around me.” Obediently, he slips both arms around my waist. I smile at the wall. I am not enjoying this. I am not, not even a little bit, no.

I feel bare. I didn't realize I wore my secrets as armor until they were gone and now everyone sees me as I really am.

I think you're still the only person sharp enough to sharpen someone like me.

The truth is... you are hurting me. Not on purpose, I know that. But I love you and every second that you don´t love me back...it hurts.

I feel like myself, strong and weak at once - allowed, at least for a little while, to be both.

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

I have to face the fear. I have to take control of the situation and find a way to make it less frightening.

We are not people who touch each other carelessly; every point of contact between us feels important, a rush of energy and relief.

I am still the person who would have died rather than kill you

All I can do is stand still- I feel like if I just stand still, I can stop it from being true, I can pretend that everything is all right.

Lies require commitment.

Resisting is worth doing.

He stares at me, and I don't look away. He isn't a dog, but the same rules apply. Looking away is submissive. Looking him in the eye is a challenge. It's my choice.

Since I was young, I have always known this: Life damages us, every one. We can’t escape that damage. But now, I am also learning this: We can be mended. We mend each other.

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.

To live factionless Is not just to live in poverty and discomfort; it is to live divorced from society, separated from the most important thing in life: community. My mother once told me that we can’t survive alone,but even if we could, we wouldn’t want to. Without a faction, we have no purpose and no reason to live.

Every faction conditions its members to think and act a certain way. And most people do it. For most people, it's not hard to learn, to find a pattern of thought that works and stay that way. But our minds move in a dozen different directions. We can't be confined to one way of thinking, and that terrifies our leaders. It means we can't be controlled. And it means that no matter what they do, we will always cause trouble for them.

I'm sick of doing bad things and liking it and then wondering what's wrong with me. I want it to be over. I want to start again.

Sometimes, all it takes to save people from a terrible fate is one person willing to do something about it. Even if that "something" is a fake bathroom break.

We both have war inside us. Sometimes it keeps us alive. Sometimes it threatens to destroy us.

The truth has a way of changing people's plans.

To me, when someone wrongs you, you both share the burden of that wrongdoing—the pain of it weighs on both of you. Forgiveness, then, means choosing to bear the full weight all by yourself.

You chose us. Now we have to choose you.

Cruelty does not make a person dishonest, the same way bravery does not make a person kind.

I shield my eyes from the sun to see her cold look—the expression I saw in my mind even before I looked at her. She looks older to me than she ever has, stern and tough and worn by time. I feel that way, too. “These people have no regard for human life,” she says. “They’re about to wipe the memories of all our friends and neighbors. They’re responsible for the deaths of a large majority of our old faction.” She sidesteps me and marches toward the door. “I think they’re lucky I’m not going to kill them.

One piece of advice I have is: Want something else more than success. Success is a lovely thing, but your desire to say something, your worth, and your identity shouldn’t rely on it, because it’s not guaranteed and it’s not permanent and it’s not sufficient. So work hard, fall in love with the writing — the characters, the story, the words, the themes — and make sure that you are who you are regardless of your life circumstances. That way, when the good things come, they don’t warp you, and when the bad things hit you, you don’t fall apart.

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.

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.

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