A Quote by Veronica Roth
I’d ask you to hang out with us, but you’re not supposed to see me this way.’… ‘What way?’ I ask. ‘Drunk?’ ‘Yeah…well, no.’ His voice softens. ‘Real, I guess.’ ‘I’ll pretend I didn’t.’ ‘Nice of you.’ He puts his lips next to my ear and says, ‘You look good, Tris.’… I laugh. ‘Do me a favor and stay away from the chasm, okay?’ ‘Of course.’ He winks at me.
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He pus his lips next to my ear and says, “You look good, Tris.
Okay. Then...I can talk. Ask me something." "Okay." He laughs shakily in my ear. "Why is your heart racing Tris?" I cringe and say, "Well, I...I barely know you. I barely know you and I'm crammed up against you in a box, Four, what do you think?"... "Maybe you were cut out for Candor," he says, "because you're a terrible liar.
Ask Me Some time when the river is ice ask me mistakes I have made. Ask me whether what I have done is my life. Others have come in their slow way into my thought, and some have tried to help or to hurt: ask me what difference their strongest love or hate has made. I will listen to what you say. You and I can turn and look at the silent river and wait. We know the current is there, hidden; and there are comings and goings from miles away that hold the stillness exactly before us. What the river says, that is what I say.
Tris," Tobias says, crouching next to me. His face is pale, almost yellow. There is too much I want to say. The first thing that comes out is, "Beatrice." He laughs weakly. "Beatrice," he amends, and touches his lips to mine. I curl my fingers into his shirt.
You okay now ?" he asked. "Okay." He tightened his arms and lifted me off my feet. "Mercy?" he growled into my ear. I wrapped my legs around his waist. " Yeah" , I said. "Me too.
Can you tell me where to find Tobias'? I ask. When I imagine his face, affection for him bubbles up inside of me and all I want to do is kiss him. 'Four, I mean. He's so handsome, isn't he? I don't really understand why he likes me so much. I'm not very nice, am I?' -Tris
As to how you'll help me," he says. "Well, we have met the Answer, have we not?" He turns back to look at us, his eyes glinting. "It's time for them to meet the Ask.
I had a very well-respected writer ask me point blank to my face whether it actually mattered to me. Now, without wanting to reach out and just strangle him or send a few F-bombs his way, I just bit my tongue, told him he offended me and walked away.
I didn't really had a good answer, as so often -- is me. But then somebody sent me the other day, Isaiah 49:16, and you need to go home and look it up. Before you look it up, I'll tell you what it says though. It says, hey, if it was good enough for God, scribbling on the palm of his hand, it's good enough for me, for us. He says, in that passage, 'I wrote your name on the palm of my hand to remember you,' and I'm like, 'Okay, I'm in good company.'
Before we sit down, he puts his mouth next to my ear and says, “I like your hair that way.
When you go to a voice-based interaction, you can't tell people, 'Ask me this question and structure it in this way.' And if they ask a question, and you have a bad answer, first time, maybe they'll be okay with it. Third time, they're going to say, 'This is a complete waste of time. I'm going away.'
I see my way as birds their trackless way. I shall arrive,- what time, what circuit first, I ask not; but unless God send his hail Or blinding fire-balls, sleet or stifling snow, In some time, his good time, I shall arrive: He guides me and the bird. In his good time.
The way you walk, that's me The way you talk, that's me The way you got your hair up, did you forget that's me? & the voice in the speaker right now, that's me, that's me & the voice in your ear, that's me
I take it this is one of the ones crushing on you." "What? They all crush on me. I'm a hot college girl, remember?" I laughed and his eyes burned into mine. He leaned in close and whispered into my ear. "So hot. Now you've got me thinking what you looked like this morning, when i woke up with you in my arms, in my bed. Would it be too greedy to ask you to stay tonight, too?" "I was afraid you weren't going to ask.
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 did you do it?" I say. "You want me dead. You were willing to do it yourself! What changed?" He presses his lips together and doesn't look away, not for a long time. Then he opens his mouth, hesitates, and finally says, " I can't be in anyone's debt. Okay? The idea that I owed you something made me sick. I would wake up in the middle of the night feeling like I was going to vomit. Indebted to a stiff? It's ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. And I couldn't have it.
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