Chosen Ones (The Chosen Ones, #1)

by Veronica Roth

“Anyone would need therapy, you know,” he said. “After what we’ve all been through. I mean, Ines went.” “Ines went, and she’s still booby-trapping her apartment like she’s living out a Home Alone fantasy,” Sloane said.

The Chosen One and his blushing bride. Who was, apparently, a goddamn piece of Easter candy.

Matt was looking at her in a way she didn’t like. Like she was a car that had broken down on the side of the road and he was looking under the hood to see what the problem was. Like there was something wrong inside her that he could make right. And maybe that was the entire problem with them—he didn’t see her; he saw who she could be with a few adjustments, and all she wanted was to stay busted and be left alone.

Sometimes Sloane wondered if the world had been worth saving.

“Oh, well, if the situation is dire, then it’s okay to kidnap people from other dimensions,” Sloane said. Her throat felt tight with rising hysteria. “Yeah, here I was thinking the direness quotient wasn’t high enough,” Esther added sourly. “I assure you, it is!” Aelia said, her voice becoming almost shrill. “I don’t think she’s very good at sarcasm,” Esther said to Sloane. “She’s going to love us, then,” Sloane replied.

The less thinking involved, the better, at this stage.” “This should be easy for Esther, then,” Matt said. “Kindly shut the hell up,”

“So the magic on the door doesn’t prevent this?” Esther said. “That seems like a major oversight.”

“Are you sure she’s not setting a trap?” “I don’t believe she has that level of foresight,” Mox replied. “Fuck you,” Sloane said.

“What’s real.” Sibyl sighed and stood. “If we’re going to talk about what’s real, we’ll need whiskey.”

You don’t pick the act and then force the desire. You know the desire—the exact shade of it—and then choose the act accordingly.”

“Where,” Ziva said to Mox, “did you find this fucking nerd?”