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We fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice.

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
Hunger
Dare
Fight
Justice
Fighting
Ends

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Well you are a piece of work aren't you?
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The only thing worse than fighting a giant scorpion was fighting a giant scorpion who was trying to protect her young.
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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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There's no district 12 to escape from now, no Peacekeepers to trick, no hungry mouths to feed. The Capitol took away all of that, and I'm on the verge of losing Gale as well. The glue of mutual needs that bonded us so tightly together for all those years is melting away.
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While you live, the revolution lives
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Our romance became a key strategy for our survival in the arena. Only it wasn't just a strategy for Peeta.
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We had to save you because you're the mockingjay, Katniss, says Plutarch. While you live, the revolution lives.
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Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes, and when again they open, the sun will rise.
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If he wants me broken, then I will have to be whole.
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I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now and live in it forever.
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In my mind, President Snow should be viewed in front of marble pillars hung with oversized flags. It's jarring to see him surrounded by the ordinary objects in the room. Like taking the lid off a pot and finding a fanged viper instead of stew.
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Anyway, even if she's sugarcoating my good points, I appreciate it. Frankly, I could use a little sugarcoating.
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I don’t know what the explosion did, but it damaged something deep and irreparable. Never mind. If I get home, I’ll be so stinking rich, I’ll be able to pay someone to do my hearing.
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In other words, I step out of line and we're all dead.
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But I don't know what to him about the aftermath of killing a person. About how they never leave you.
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I roll my eyes. So when did I become so special? When they carted me off to the Capitol? No, about six months before that. Right after New Year's. We were in the Hob, eating some slop of Greasy Sae's. And Darius was teasing you about trading a rabbit for one of his kisses. And I realized...I minded.
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Once I'm on my feet I realize escape might not be so easy.
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I send a silent thank-you to Dalton for suggesting I wash off the makeup. How ridiculous, how perverse I would feel presenting that painted Capitol mask to these people. The damage, the fatigue, the imperfections. That's how they recognize me, why I belong to them.
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Her name's Prim. She's just twelve. And I love her more than anything.
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How do you bear it?” Finnick looks at me in disbelief. “I don’t, Katniss! Obviously, I don’t. I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there’s no relief in waking.” “The more you can distract yourself the better, ” he says. “First thing tomorrow, we’ll get you your own rope. Until then take mine.
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