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But there was only one kiss that made me feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made me want more. But my head wound started bleeding and he made me lie down.

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
Started
Stir
Head
Bleeding
Lying
Wound
Feel
Kiss
Feels
Wounds
Made
Kissing
Something
Deep
Inside

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Maybe I'd think that, too, Caesar, says Petta bitterly, if it weren't for the baby. There. He's done it again.
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One slip. One slip in thousands. The odds had been entirely in her favor. But it hadn't mattered.
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What about Gale? He's not a bad kisser either, I say shortly. And it was okay with both of us? You kissing the other? He asks. No. It wasn't okay with either of you. But I wasn't asking your permission, I tell him. Peeta laughs again, coldly, dismissively. Well, you're a piece of work, aren't you?
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I had to do that. At least once.
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Desperate, yet no longer alone after that day, because we'd found each other.
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Because something is significantly wrong with a creature that sacrifices its children's lives to settle its differences. You can spin it any way you like... But in the end, who does it benefit? No one. The truth is, it benefits no one to live in a world where these things happen
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Just last year i wanted to kill him, but now it is my duty to save him.
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Living out here, I have found that many creatures would prefer not to fight. But if your first instinct is to reach for your sword, you will never discover that.
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People deal with me, but they are genuinely fond of Prim. Maybe there will be enough fondness to keep her alive.
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I swing my arms to loosen myself up. Place my fists on my hips. then drop them to my sides. Saliva's filling my mouth at a ridiculous rate and i feel vomit at the back of my throat. I swallow hard and open my lips so I can get the stupid line out and go hide in the woods and-that's when i start crying.
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I know. I was hoping, I say. Exactly. Because you're desperate, says Haymitch. I don't argue because, of course, he's right.
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What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again.
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Because I can't handle the nightmares. Not without you.
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Whose is it, do you think? I say finally. No telling, says Finnick. Why don't we let Peeta claim it, since he died today?
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One time, my mother told me that I always eat like I'll never see food again. And I said, I won't unless I bring it home. That shut her up.
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There's a chance that the old Peeta, the one who loves you, is still inside. Trying to get back to you. Don't give up on him.
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What will break me into a million pieces so that I am beyond repair, beyond usefulness?
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It's lovely. If only you could frost someone to death. Don't be so superior. You can never tell what you will find in the arena. Say it's a gigantic cake-
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Thinking like your prey. . . that's where you find their vulnerabilities.
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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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