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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
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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
Whisper
Teeth
Mines
Mine
Says
Gritted
Fire
Cape
Think
Capes
Thinking
Rip
More quotes by Suzanne Collins
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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If you hit bottom, there's a whole lot of people here to help you up
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Despite serious reservations, I had to forgive Finnick for his role in the conspiracy that landed me here. He, at least has some idea of what I'm going through. And it takes too much energy to stay angry with someone who cries so much.
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At some point, you have to stop running and turn around and face whoever wants you dead.The hard thing is finding the courage to do it.
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Something small and quiet, like a match being struck, lights up the gloom inside of me.
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Maybe I'll be like that man in The Hanging Tree'. Still waiting for an answer.
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There's always hand-to-hand combat. All you need is to come up with a knife, and you'll at least stand a chance. If I get jumped, I'm dead! I can hear my voice rising in anger. But you won't! You'll be living up in some tree eating raw squirrels and picking off people with arrows.
Suzanne Collins
That if desperate times call for desperate measures, then I'm free to act as desperately as I wish.
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Crying is not an option.
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I squeeze my eyes shut and try to reach for him across the hundreds and hundreds of miles, to send my thoughts into his mind, to let him know he is not alone. But he is. And I can't help him.
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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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We could do it, you know.
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Well you are a piece of work aren't you?
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Better not to give in to it.
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Whatever it takes to break you.
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It must be very fragile, if a handful of berries can bring it down.
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What will break me into a million pieces so that I am beyond repair, beyond usefulness?
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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.
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Desperate, yet no longer alone after that day, because we'd found each other.
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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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