They Died For Me,” I Say. That

People Tend To Overestimate My Character," I Say Quietly. "they Think That Because I'm Small, Or A Girl, Or A Stiff, I Can't Possibly Be Cruel. But They're Wrong.

Sometimes You Just Need To Talk To Someone Who Is Detached From You. They Just Listen To What You Tell Them And You Get To Form The Way That They See You, Whereas Everyone Else In Your Life Already Thinks They Know What You're Dealing With Or What You're Going Through. That's My Recommendation For Actual Anxiety.

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

Scrubbing The Floor When No One Else Wanted To Was Something That My Mother Would Have Done. If I Can't Be With Her, The Least I Can Do Is Act Like Her Sometimes.

When You're A Writer, You Hear Your Internal Critic, And That's Really Hard To Get Over. And Then Sometimes You Hear Critiques From Classmates And Stuff. But When A Book Comes Out, It's Just Hundreds Of Opinions And You Have To Learn To Separate Out The Ones You Want To Listen To Or Figure Out Many You Want To Listen To.