Quote

Buttercup, miserable even with Prim’s constant attention, huddles in the cube and exhales cat breath in my face.

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
Miserable
Constant
Prim
Face
Buttercup
Attention
Cube
Faces
Cubes
Even
Cat
Breath
Breaths

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Yes, I’m a mouse. Squeak, squeak. Now shoo-shoo back to your little bug friends,” said Rirped, picking up a hunk of dried beef. He tore a off a piece with his teeth and noticed Boots hadn’t moved. He pulled back his lips to reveal a row of jagged teeth and gave her a sharp hiss.
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District 12: Where you can starve to death in safety.
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I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I'm so grateful that he's here, not dead by the stream as I'd thought. So glad I don't have to face Cato alone.
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because I have learned the hard way how deadly these beauties can be.
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Not like this. He wanted it to be real.
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I'm not flailing now, as my muscles are rigid with the tension of holding myself together.
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Who says i can't handle it? I can handle it, said Gregor obviously not handling it.
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I take a few breaths to calm myself, step back, and lift Buttercup by the scruff of the neck. I should've drowned you when I had the chance. His ears flatten and he raises a paw. I hiss before he gets a chance, which seems to annoy him a little, since he considers hissing his own personal sound of contempt.
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Highly unlikely but not impossible.
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Then I dive into my tent before I do something stupid like cry.
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A faint light burned in the pit revealing a furry creature hunched over a stone slab, fiddling with something. At first Gregor raised a warning hand. He thought it was a rat. Then the creature lifted his head and Gregor recognized what was left of his dad.
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I’m in a shallow hole, not filled with the humming orange bubbles of my hallucination but with old, dead leaves.
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Technically, I am unarmed. But no one should ever underestimate the harm that fingernails can do. Especially if the target is unprepared.
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There was no discussion between them it was as if the bugs had worked out this whole scenario long ago. Temp put on a burst of speed for the end of the bridge, and Tick turned to face down the army of rats alone.
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Great. Now I have to go back and tell Haymitch I want an eighty-year-old and Nuts and Volts for my allies. He'll love that.
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Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else's arms have made me feel this safe.
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Peeta rinses the pearl off in the water and hands it to me. “For you.” I hold it out on my palm and examine its iridescent surface in the sunlight. Yes, I will keep it. For the few remaining hours of my life I will keep it close. This last gift from Peeta. The only one I can really accept. Perhaps it will give me strength in the final moments.
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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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For there to be betrayal, there would have to have been trust first.
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