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Sorry excuses for hunters and friends. Both of us.

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
Excuse
Sorry
Friends
Excuses
Hunters

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I'm sick of people lying to me for my own good. Because really it's mostly for their own good.
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Eyes on the forest, not on the trees.
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The audience must be sick to death of the star-crossed lovers from District 12. I know I am.
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If I'm going to cry, now is the time. By morning, I'll be able to wash all the damage done by the tears from my face. But no tears come. I'm too tired or too numb to cry. The only thing I feel is a desire to be somewhere else. So I let the train rock me into oblivion.
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As long as you can find yourself, you’ll never starve.
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Tick tock, this is a clock.
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Because I can count on my fingers the number of sunsets I have left, and I don't want to miss any of them.
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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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You're still trying to protect me. Real or not real, he whispers. Real, I answer. Because that's what you and I do, protect each other.
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If my holding out those berries was an act of temporary insanity, then those people will embrace insanity too.
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Tuck in your tail, little duck.
Suzanne Collins
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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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My sleep wasn't peaceful, though. I have the sense of emerging from a world of dark, haunted places where I traveled alone.
Suzanne Collins
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Courage only counts when you can count.
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Destroying things is much easier than making them.
Suzanne Collins
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Let them go, I tell myself. Say good-bye and forget them. I do my best, thinking of them one by one, releasing them like birds from the protective cages inside me, locking the doors against their return.
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To be honest, I'm not much of a drinker. It makes me sick, and I hate that.
Suzanne Collins
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Poison. The perfect weapon for a snake.
Suzanne Collins
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But because two can play at this game, I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Right on his bruise.
Suzanne Collins
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Remember, girl on fire,” he says, “I'm still betting on you.
Suzanne Collins