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You’ve got about as much charm as a dead slug.

Suzanne Collins

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Suzanne Collins
Age: 62
Born: 1962
Born: August 10
Executive Producer
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
Writer
Hartford
Connecticut
Suzanne Marie Collins
Suzanne Collins
Dead
Much
Slug
Slugs
Charm
Hunger

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Just last year i wanted to kill him, but now it is my duty to save him.
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Her name's Prim. She's just twelve. And I love her more than anything.
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Kind people have a way of working their way inside me and rooting there.
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Hey, Finnick, come on in! We figured out how to make you pretty again!
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I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you.
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Anyone? On Snow's visit before the Victory Tour, he challenged me to erase any doubts of my love for Peeta. Convince me, Snow said. It seems, under that hot pink sky with Peeta's life in limbo, I finally did. And In doing so, I gave him the weapon he needed to break me.
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Fine. Somebody else can arrange to get the stupid goat knocked up.
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Underground. Which I hate. Like mines and tunnels and 13. Underground, where I dread dying, which is stupid because even if I die aboveground, the next thing they'll do is bury me underground anyway.
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I always channel my emotions into my work. That way, I don't hurt anyone but myself.
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Desperate, yet no longer alone after that day, because we'd found each other.
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But I have to confess, I'm glad you two had at least a few months of happiness together. I'm not glad, says Peeta. I wish we had waited until the whole thing was done officially. This takes even Caesar aback. Surely even a brief time is better than no time? Maybe I'd think that, too, Caesar, says Peeta bitterly, If it weren't for t
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I take a few breaths to calm myself, step back, and lift Buttercup by the scruff of the neck. I should've drowned you when I had the chance. His ears flatten and he raises a paw. I hiss before he gets a chance, which seems to annoy him a little, since he considers hissing his own personal sound of contempt.
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I poke around in the pile, about to settle on some cod chowder, when Peeta holds out a can to me. “Here.” I take it, not knowing what to expect. The label reads LAMB STEW.
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People don't need wings to survive Mockingjays do.
Suzanne Collins
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The bird, the pin, the song, the berries, the watch, the cracker, the dress that burst into flames. I am the mockingjay. The one that survived despite the Capitol's plans. The symbol of the rebellion.
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His dad said even the cavemen had geniuses among them. Somebody had thought up the wheel.
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At the moment, the choice would be simple. I can survive just fine without either of them.
Suzanne Collins
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Because something is significantly wrong with a creature that sacrifices its children’s lives to settle its differences.
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And suddenly, it's as if there's no one in the world but these two, crashing through space to reach each other. They collide, enfold, lose their balance, and slam against a wall, where they stay. Clinging into one being. Indivisible.
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Anyway, even if she's sugarcoating my good points, I appreciate it. Frankly, I could use a little sugarcoating.
Suzanne Collins