When I Look At The Abnegation Lifestyle

He Pushes His Hair, Soaked From The Snow, Out Of His Eyes. "so What Are We Going To Do, Break A Window? Look For A Back Door?" "i'm Just Going To Walk In," I Say. "i'm Her Son." "you Also Betrayed Her And Left The City When She Forbade Anyone From Doing That," He Says, "and She Sent People After You To Stop You. People With Guns." "you Can Stay Here If You Want," I Say. "where The Serum Goes, I Go," He Says. "but If You Get Shot At, I'm Going To Grab It And Run." "i Don't Expect Anything More." He Is A Strange Sort Of Person.

Sometimes It Isn't Fighting That's Brave, Its Facing The Death You Know Is Coming.

You're More Than Dauntless," He Says In A Low Voice. "but If You Want To Be Just Like Them, Hurling Yourself Into Ridiculous Situations For No Reason And Retaliating Against Your Enemies Without Any Regard For What's Ethical, Go Right Ahead. I Thought You Were Better Than That, But Maybe I Was Wrong.

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.

Maybe Forgiveness Is Just The Continual Pushing Aside Of Bitter Memories, Until Time Dulls The Hurt And Anger, And The Wrong Is Forgotten.