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We star-crossed lovers of District 12, who suffered so much and enjoyed so little the rewards of our victory, do not seek our fans' favor, grace them with our smiles, or catch their kisses. We are unforgiving. And I love it. Getting to be myself at last.

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
Little
Victory
Favors
Much
Fans
Catch
Unforgiving
Love
Grace
Enjoyed
District
Stars
Rewards
Kisses
Getting
Kissing
Crossed
Lasts
Lovers
Smiles
Last
Star
Suffered
Littles
Seek
Favor

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I'm more than just a piece in their Games.
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Scores only matter if they’re very good, no one pays much attention to the bad or mediocre ones.
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My sleep wasn't peaceful, though. I have the sense of emerging from a world of dark, haunted places where I traveled alone.
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In our world, I rank music somewhere between hair ribbons and rainbows in terms of usefulness.
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I merely feel emptyness. A hollow of dead brush where flowers use to bloom.
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Haymitch in my head full-time. Horrifying
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We could do it, you know.
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I guess there isn’t a rule book for what might be unacceptable to do to another human being.
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Dawn comes before sleep does.
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So what I'd really like is to try and conceal him somewhere safe, then go hunt, and come back and collect him. But I have a feeling his ego isn't going to go for that suggestion.
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Frankly, our ancestors don't seem much to brag about. I mean, look at the state they left us in, with the wars, the broken planet. Clearly, they didn't care about what would happen to the people who came after them.
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I'm almost there, almost to the barricade, when I thinks she hears me. Because for just a moment, she catches sight of me, her lips form my name. And that's when the rest of the parachutes go off.
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Peeta looks at the glass again and puts it together. You mean this will make me puke? My prep team laughs hysterically. Of course, so you can keep eating, says Octavia. I've been in there twice already. Everyone does it, or else how would you have any fun at a feast?
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I killed you. And you. And you.
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I'm not good at talking about myself.
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Maybe I'll be like that man in The Hanging Tree'. Still waiting for an answer.
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We have to joke about it because the alternative is to be scared
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I notice her blouse has pulled out of her skirt in the back again and force myself to stay calm. Tuck your tail in, little duck, I say, smoothing the blouse back in place. Prim giggles and give me a small Quack. Quack yourself, I say with a light laugh. The kind only Prim can draw out of me.
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I have not wept since the death of my parents, said Luxa quietly. But I am thought to be unnatural in this respect.
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