Quote

I turn and put my lips close to Peeta's and drop my eyelids in imitation... He offered me sugar and wanted to know all my secrets, I say in my best seductive voice.

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
Wanted
Drop
Lips
Close
Eyelids
Turn
Seductive
Secret
Imitation
Turns
Offered
Voice
Sugar
Best
Secrets

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Oh, well. At least my blood is flowing.
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But in my head I can hear Haymitch's smug, if slightly exasperated, words: Yes, that's what I'm looking for, sweetheart.
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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.
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Then Octavia drops to her knees, rubs the hem of a skirt against her cheek, and burst into tears. It's been so long, she gasps, since I've seen anything pretty.
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Oh, Peeta, Don't make me sorry I restarted your heart.
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The pounding music, the cheers, the admiration work their way into my blood, and I can’t suppress my excitement. Cinna has given me a great advantage. No one will forget me. Not my look, not my name. Katniss. The girl who was on fire.
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Entrails. No hissing. This is the closest we will ever come to love.
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Who says i can't handle it? I can handle it, said Gregor obviously not handling it.
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Suddenly I am furious, that with my life on the line, they don’t even have the decency to pay attention to me. That I’m being upstaged by a dead pig.
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He’s dozed off again, but I kiss him awake, which seems to startle him. Then he smiles as if he’d be happy to lie there gazing at me forever.
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You're alive, I whisper, pressing my palms against my cheeks, feeling the smile that's so wide it must look like a grimace. Peeta's alive.
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I walk around the room eating goose liver and puffy bread until there's a knock on the door. Effie's calling me to dinner. Good. I'm starving.
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Tuck in your tail, little duck.
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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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At the moment, the choice would be simple. I can survive just fine without either of them.
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A faint light burned in the pit revealing a furry creature hunched over a stone slab, fiddling with something. At first Gregor raised a warning hand. He thought it was a rat. Then the creature lifted his head and Gregor recognized what was left of his dad.
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I squeeze my eyes shut and try to reach for him across the hundreds and hundreds of miles, to send my thoughts into his mind, to let him know he is not alone. But he is. And I can't help him.
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We could do it, you know. What? Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it.
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Star-crossed lovers desperate to get home together. Two hearts beating as one. Romance.
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Just the perfect touch of rebellion, says Haymitch Very nice. Rebellion?
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