Quote

I curl up, make myself smaller, try to disappear entirely. Wrapped in silence, I slide my bracelet that reads 'mentally disoriented' around and around my wrist.

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
Silence
Slide
Around
Slides
Trying
Wrapped
Disoriented
Make
Reads
Bracelet
Mentally
Curl
Smaller
Wrist
Entirely
Curls
Disappear
Wrists

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But once I saw Fulvia Cardew crumple up a sheet of paper with just a couple of words written on it and you would’ve thought she’d murdered someone from the looks she got.
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Each time I wake,I think, At last, this is over, but it isn't.
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They're already taking my future! They can't have the things that mattered to me in the past!
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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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They hadn’t counted on the highly controlled jabberjay having the brains to adapt to the wild, to pass on its genetic code, to thrive in a new form. They hadn’t anticipated its will to live.
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Hey, Effie, watch this! says Peeta. He tosses his fork over his shoulder and literally licks his plate clean whit his tongue making loud, satisfied sounds. Then he blows a kiss out to her in general and calls, We miss you, Effie!
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What do I mean when I say I love Gale? I don't know. I did kiss him last night, in a moment when my emotions were running so high. But I'm sure he doesn't remember it. Does he? I hope not. If he does, everything will just get more complicated and I really can't think about kissing when I've got a rebellion to incite.
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I poke around in the pile, about to settle on some cod chowder, when Peeta holds out a can to me. “Here.” I take it, not knowing what to expect. The label reads LAMB STEW.
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No, you won her over. Gave up everything for her. Maybe that's the only way to convince her you love her.
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Peeta? I creep along the bank. Well, don't step on me.
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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.
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I press my ear against his chest, to the spot where I always rest my head, where I know I will hear the strong and steady beat of his heart. Instead, I find silence.
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He wants as many victors as possible for the cameras to follow in the Capitol. Thinks it makes for better television. Are you and Beetee going? I ask. As many young and attractive victors as possible, Haymitch corrects himself. So, no. We'll be here.
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Underground. Which I hate. Like mines and tunnels and 13. Underground, where I dread dying, which is stupid because even if I die aboveground, the next thing they'll do is bury me underground anyway.
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But I feel as if I did know Rue, and she'll always be with me. Everything beautiful brings her to mind. I see her in the yellow flowers that grow in the Meadow by my house. I see her in the Mockingjays that sing in the trees. But most of all, I see her in my sister, Prim.
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Every day when I wake I tell myself that it will be my last. If you are not trying to hold on to time, you are not so afraid of losing it... And then, if you make it to bedtime, you feel the joy of cheating death out of one more day.
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And once we reach the city, my stylist will dictate my look for the opening ceremonies tonight anyway. I just hope I get one who doesn't think nudity is the last word in fashion.
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