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Katniss, got that spile? Finnick asks, snapping me back to reality.

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
Reality
Back
Snapping
Asks

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When I ask Plutarch about his absence, he just shakes his head and says, He couldnt face it. Haymitch? Not able to face something? Wanted a day off, more likely, I say. I think his actual words were 'I couldn't face it without a bottle,' says Plutarch.
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I don't know how to say it exactly. Only... I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense? he asks. I shake my head. How could he die as anyone but himself. I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not.
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Tuck in your tail, little duck.
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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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Smiling is mostly about smiling more.
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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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No more kisses for you, until you have eaten !
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If it's true, why do they leave us to live like this? With the hunger and the killings and the Games? And suddenly I hate this imaginary underground city of District 13 and those who sit by, watching us die. They're no better than the Capitol.
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As long as you can find yourself, you’ll never starve.
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Oh, and I suppose the apples ate the cheese.
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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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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.
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I notice her blouse has pulled out of her skirt in the back again and force myself to stay calm. Tuck your tail in, little duck, I say, smoothing the blouse back in place. Prim giggles and give me a small Quack. Quack yourself, I say with a light laugh. The kind only Prim can draw out of me.
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And she’s very clever, Peeta. Well, she was. Until you outfoxed her
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The heat of the bread burned into my skin, but I clutched it tighter, clinging to life.
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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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Just remember, stealing's punishable by death
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Something small and quiet, like a match being struck, lights up the gloom inside of me.
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If you hit bottom, there's a whole lot of people here to help you up
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I also want to tell him how much I already miss him. But that wouldn't be fair on my part.
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