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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.

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
Aftermath
Killing
Leave
Persons
Person
Never

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And she's my fiancee. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us.
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I no longer feel any allegiance to these monsters called human beings, despise being one myself.
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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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Then he smiles as if he'd be happy to lie there and gaze at me forever.
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I do think you're mad and I'll still go with you.
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And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don't want him to die. And it's not about the sponsors. And it's not about what will happen when we get home. And it's not just that I don't want to be alone. It's him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.
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I keep hoping that as time passes by, we’ll regain the ease between us, but part of me knows it’s futile. There’s no going back.
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A spark could be enough to set them ablaze.
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You're hideous, you know that, right?
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It's meant to be pretty, whispers Octavia, and I can see the tears threatening to spill over her lashes. Posy considers this and says matter-of-factly, I think you'd be pretty in any color. The tiniest of smiles forms on Octavia's lips. Thank you.
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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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Just the sound of his voice twists my stomach into a knot of unpleasant emotions like guilt, sadness and fear. And longing. I might as well admit there’s some of that too.
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If it's true, why do they leave us to live like this? With the hunger and the killings and the Games? And suddenly I hate this imaginary underground city of District 13 and those who sit by, watching us die. They're no better than the Capitol.
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You call that a kiss?
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Plutarch rushes to reassure me. Oh, no, Katniss. Not your wedding. Finnick and Annie's. All you need to do is show up and pretend to be happy for them. That's one of the few things I won't have to pretend, Plutarch, I tell him.
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That should have been my strategy! By the time I’ve worked through the emotions of surprise, admiration, anger, jealousy, and frustration, I’m watching that reddish mane of hair disappear into the trees well out of shooting range.
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Yes, and I’m sure the arena will be full of bags of flour for me to chuck at people.
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I can’t fight the sun. I can only watch helplessly as it drags me into a day that I’ve been dreading for months. Katniss Everdeen
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They can fatten me up. They can give me a full body polish, dress me up, and make me beautiful again. They can design dream weapons that come to life in my hands, but they will never again brainwash me into the necessity of using them. I no longer feel allegiance to these monsters called human beings, despite being one myself.
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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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