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Image of the quote is loading... SaveSave Psyche you out?

Psyche you out?” I repeat. “I’m your FRIEND. I wouldn’t do that.” He doesn’t say anything. I can tell he doesn’t believe me-not quite.

Veronica Roth
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How strange that something so simple could have been instrumental in my decision to ruin one of my most relationships and friendships, and damage another.
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He smells safe, too, like sunlit walks in the orchard and silent breakfastsin the dining hall. And in the moments before I drift off to sleep, I almost forget about our war-torn city and all the conflict that willcome to find us soon, if we don’t find it first.
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He wraps his arms around me and holds me tight for a few seconds. Hisbreaths tickle my ear, and I close my eyes, letting myself finally relax. Hesmells like wind and sweat and soap, like Tobias and like safety.
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The hurts from my last day with my father are healed now, but I want to remember where they were; I want to remember what I escaped for as long as I live.
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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.
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I also don't believe that whatever come after life depends on my correctly reciting a list of my transgressions-that sounds too much like an Erudite afterlife to me, all accuracy and no feeling.
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Can I be forgiven for all I've done to get here?I don't know. I don't know.please.-Tris, DivergentCan I be forgiven for all I've done to get here?I want to be.I can.I believe it.-Tris, Allegiant
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My body rises with the water. Instead of kicking my feet to stay abreast of it, I push all the air from my lungs and sink to the bottom. The water muffles my ears. I feel its movement over my face. I think about snorting the water into my lungs so it kills me faster, but I can't bring myself to do it. I blow bubbles from my mouth. Relax. I close my eyes. My lungs burn.
Veronica Roth
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