The walls of this elevator are made of crystal so that you can watch the people on the ground floor shrink to ants as you shoot up into the air. It's exhilarating and I'm tempted to ask Effie Trinket if we can ride it again, but somehow that seems childish.
He's dozed off again, but I kiss him awake, which seems to startle him. Then he smiles as if he's be happy to lie there gazing at me forever.
It's not easy to find a topic. Talking of home is painful. Talking of the present unbearable.
Scores only matter if they're very good, no one pays much attention to the bad or mediocre ones.
Whatever the truth is, I don't see how it will help me get food on the table.
Because when he sings...even the birds stop to listen.
I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I'm so grateful that he's here, not dead by the stream as I'd thought. So glad I don't have to face Cato alone.
Let them go, I tell myself. Say good-bye and forget them. I do my best, thinking of them one by one, releasing them like birds from the protective cages inside me, locking the doors against their return.
Thank you for you consideration
Your only defense can be you were so madly in love you weren't responsible for your actions.
Don't. Don't let's pretend when there's no one around.
I'll never know what it was he wanted me to remember.
Not daring to flee since my general location has just been broadcast to any killer who cares. I mean, I know it's cold out here and not everybody has a sleeping bag.
The woods always look different at night...as if the daytime trees and flowers and stones had gone to bed and sent slightly more ominous versions of themselves to take their places.
Hope is the only thing stronger than fear.
It's old, very old I think. Made up long ago in our hills. What my music teacher calls a mountain air. But the words are easy and soothing, promising tomorrow will be more hopeful than this awful piece of time we call today.
She must have had bad dreams and climbed in with our mother. Of course, she did. This is the day of the reaping.
When I break into the clearing, she's on the ground, hopelessly entangled in a net. She just has the time to reach her hand through the mesh and say my name before the spear enters her body.
Besides, it's the first gift that's always the hardest to pay back. I wouldn't even have been here to do it if you hadn't helped me then.
I reach out to touch his cheek and he catches my hand and presses it against his lips.
May the odds be ever in your favor!
That should have been my strategy! By the time I've worked through the emotions of surprise, admiration, anger, jealousy, and frustration, I'm watching that reddish mane of hair disappear into the trees well out of shooting range.
You're not going to die. I forbid it.
Each time I wake,I think, At last, this is over, but it isn't.
I'm in a shallow hole, not filled with the humming orange bubbles of my hallucination but with old, dead leaves.
Oh, and I suppose the apples ate the cheese.
There's no point in comforting words, in telling her she'll be all right. She's no fool. Her hand reaches out and I clutch it like a lifeline. As if it's me who's dying instead of Rue.
I also want to tell him how much I already miss him. But that wouldn't be fair on my part.
It's the final word in camouflage. Forget chucking weights around. Peeta should have gone into his private session with the Gamemakers and painted himself into a tree. Or a boulder. Or a muddy bank full of weeds.
She's Prim's size in diameter.
More Suzanne Collins Quotations (Based on Topics)
Mind - Time - People - Faces - Thought & Thinking - Games - Nature - Death & Dying - Life - Hope - Friendship - Love - Sense & Perception - Romantic Love - Pain - Food - World - Mothers - Fear - View All Suzanne Collins Quotations
More Suzanne Collins Quotations (By Book Titles)
- Catching Fire
- The Hunger Games
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