Human Reason Can Excuse Any

I Respect You More Than Anyone. But Right Now I’m Wondering What Bothers You More, That I Made A Stupid Decision Or That I Didn’t Make Your Decision.

If Utopian Fiction Became The New Trend, I Wouldn't Read It.

Peter: Where Are You Two Going? Tris: Why Aren't You With Your Attack Group Eating Dinner? Peter: I Don't Have One. I'm Injured. Christina: Yeah Right, You Are! Peter: Well, I Don't Want To Go To Battle With A Bunch Of Factionless. So I'm Going To Stay Here. Christina: Like A Coward. Let Everyone Else Clean Up The Mess For You. Peter: Yep! Have Fun Dying.

I Will Be My Undoing, If I Become My Obsession. I Will Forget The Ones I Love, If I Do Not Serve Them. I Will War With Others, If I Refuse To See Them. Therefore, I Choose To Turn Away From My Reflection, To Rely Not On Myself But On My Brothers And Sisters, To Project Always Outward Until I Disappear [and Only God Remains.]

I See A Few Hands Stretching Out To Me At The Edge Of The Net, So I Grabbed The First One I Could Reach And Pull Myself Across. I Roll Off, And Would Have Fallen Face-first Onto A Wood Floor If He Had Not Caught Me. "he" Is The Young Man Attached To The Hand I Grabbed. He Has A Spare Upper Lip And A Full Lower Lip. His Eyes Are So Deep-set That His Eyelashes Touch The Skin Under His Eyebrows, And They Are Dark Blue, A Dreaming, Sleeping, Waiting Color.