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Whose is it, do you think? I say finally. No telling, says Finnick. Why don't we let Peeta claim it, since he died today?

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
Since
Today
Claim
Think
Claims
Thinking
Finally
Telling
Died
Whose
Says

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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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Because I'm selfish. I'm a coward. I'm the kind of girl who, when she might actually be of use, would run to stay alive and leave those who couldn't follow to suffer and die.
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If you had hope, maybe you could find a way to make things change,. Because if you thought about it, there were so many reasons to try.
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Barbarism? That's ironic coming from a woman helping to prepare us for slaughter. And what's she basing our success on? Our table manners?
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I say we try it,' says Peeta. 'Katniss is right.' Finnick looks at Johanna and raises his eyebrows. He will not go forward without her. 'All right,' she says finally. 'It's better than hunting them down in the jungle, anyway. And I doubt they'll figure out our plan, since we can barely understand it ourselves.
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Desperate, yet no longer alone after that day, because we'd found each other.
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Technically, I am unarmed. But no one should ever underestimate the harm that fingernails can do. Especially if the target is unprepared.
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One time, my mother told me that I always eat like I'll never see food again. And I said, I won't unless I bring it home. That shut her up.
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Highly unlikely but not impossible.
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so people really do tear out their hair and beat the ground with their fists
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A need for revenge can burn long and hot. Especially if every glance in a mirror reinforces it.
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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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He frosted under heavy guard.
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If I'm going to die, I want to still be me
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Jackson has devised a game called Real or Not Real to help Peeta. He mentions something he thinks happened, and they tell him if it's true or imagined, usually followed by a brief explanation.
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The anguish I always feel when she's in pain wells up in my chest and threatens to register on my face.
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Peeta, you were supposed to wake me after a couple of hours, I say. For what? Nothing's going on here, he says. Besides, I like watching you sleep. You don't scowl. Improves your looks a lot. This, of course, brings on a scowl that makes him grin.
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All those months of taking it for granted that Peeta thought I was wonderful are over. Finally, he can see me for who I really am. Violent. Distrustful. Manipulative. Deadly. And I hate him for it.
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You know what I miss? More than anything? Coffee. -- Plutarch Heavensbee
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So I only say, So what should we do with our last few days? I just want to spend every possible minute of the rest of my life with you, Peeta replies.
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