He Looks Like A Man Who Has

An Artist Gives. Gives Visually, Gives Through Courses, Or With Free Advice, Through Generosity Of Spirit And Through A Need To Share.

I Expect To Weave Through The Crowd, Dodging Elbows And Muttering "excuse Me" The Way I Always Do, But There Is No Need. Becoming Dauntless Has Made Me Noticable.

Peter Leans Forward And Looks Into My Eyes. "the Serum Will Go Into Effect In One Minute," He Says. "be Brave, Tris." My Heart Begins To Race. Why Would Peter Tell Me To Be Brave? Why Would He Offer Any Kind Words At All?

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 Laugh Shakily. ‘you’re A Little Scary, Four.’ ‘do Me A Favor,’ He Says, ‘and Don’t Call Me That.’ ‘what Should I Call You, Then?’ ‘nothing.’ He Takes His Hand From My Face. ‘yet.