Quote

We're supposed to be making up this stuff, playing at being in love, not actually being in love.

Suzanne Collins

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Suzanne Collins
Age: 62
Born: 1962
Born: August 10
Executive Producer
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
Writer
Hartford
Connecticut
Suzanne Marie Collins
Suzanne Collins
Supposed
Playing
Actually
Making
Stuff
Love

More quotes by Suzanne Collins

Image
I walk around the room eating goose liver and puffy bread until there's a knock on the door. Effie's calling me to dinner. Good. I'm starving.
Suzanne Collins
Image
For me, it's better to wake up with a paintbrush than a knife in my hand. -Peeta
Suzanne Collins
Image
But I don't know what to him about the aftermath of killing a person. About how they never leave you.
Suzanne Collins
Image
One slip. One slip in thousands. The odds had been entirely in her favor. But it hadn't mattered.
Suzanne Collins
Image
What do you think? I whisper to Peeta. About the fire? I'll rip off your cape if you'll rip off mine, he says through gritted teeth.
Suzanne Collins
Image
We fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice.
Suzanne Collins
Image
This is what birds see. Only they're free and safe. The very opposite of me.
Suzanne Collins
Image
Katniss, got that spile? Finnick asks, snapping me back to reality.
Suzanne Collins
Image
Anyone? On Snow's visit before the Victory Tour, he challenged me to erase any doubts of my love for Peeta. Convince me, Snow said. It seems, under that hot pink sky with Peeta's life in limbo, I finally did. And In doing so, I gave him the weapon he needed to break me.
Suzanne Collins
Image
Doors are for those who lack enemies.
Suzanne Collins
Image
Hey, Finnick, come on in! We figured out how to make you pretty again!
Suzanne Collins
Image
I have been keeping track of the boy with the bread.
Suzanne Collins
Image
Closing my eyes doesn't help. Fire burns brighter in the darkness.
Suzanne Collins
Image
I'm not flailing now, as my muscles are rigid with the tension of holding myself together.
Suzanne Collins
Image
Ally. Peeta says the words slowly, tasting it. Friend. Lover. Victor. Enemy. Fiancee. Target. Mutt. Neighbor. Hunter. Tribute. Ally. I'll add it to the list of words I use to try to figure you out. The problem is, I can't tell what's real anymore, and what's made up.
Suzanne Collins
Image
You would think after all the hours I’d spent with Gale– watching him talk and laugh and frown– that I would know all there was to know about his lips. But I hadn’t imagined how warm they would feel pressed against my own. Or how those hands [...] could entrap me… I vaguely remember my fingers, curled tightly closed, resting on his chest.
Suzanne Collins
Image
I miss him so badly it hurts.
Suzanne Collins
Image
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.
Suzanne Collins
Image
I drink in his wholeness, the soudness of his body and mind. It runs through me like the morphling they give me in the hospital, dulling the pain of the last weeks.
Suzanne Collins
Image
Of course you are. The tributes were necessary to the Games, too. Until they weren't, I say. And then we were very disposable - right, Plutarch?
Suzanne Collins