Quote

Just give him the medicine! I scream at her. Give it to him! Who are you, anyway, to decide how much pain he can stand!

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
Decide
Medicine
Stand
Pain
Give
Giving
Much
Scream
Anyway

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I am not pretty. I am not beautiful. I am as radiant as the sun.
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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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Oh, and I suppose the apples ate the cheese.
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I’m in pain. That’s the only way I get your attention
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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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The more you can distract yourself, the better.
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All those months of taking it for granted that Peeta thought I was wonderful are over. Finally, he can see me for who I really am. Violent. Distrustful. Manipulative. Deadly. And I hate him for it.
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deep in the meadow , under the willow , a bed of grass , a soft green pillow
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The pounding music, the cheers, the admiration work their way into my blood, and I can’t suppress my excitement. Cinna has given me a great advantage. No one will forget me. Not my look, not my name. Katniss. The girl who was on fire.
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I flee what I can't fight. What can only do me harm.
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I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you.
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Sometimes when things are particularly bad, my brain will give me a happy dream. [...] When I fully awaken, I'm momentarily comforted. I try to hold on to the peaceful feeling of the dream, but it quickly slips away, leaving me sadder than ever.
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Winning means fame and fortune. Losing means certain death. The Hunger Games have begun.
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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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Frankly, I could use a little sugarcoating.
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Cleaning me up is just a preliminary step to determining my new look. With my acid-damaged hair, sunburned skin, and ugly scars, the prep team has to make me pretty and then damage, burn, and scare me in a more attractive way.
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Actually, Katniss isn’t complaining because she has no intention of staying with the “Star Squad,” but she recognizes the necessity of getting to the Capitol before carrying out any plan.
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But because two can play at this game, I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Right on his bruise.
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Although who knows? Maybe this will be it, Katniss. What? I ask. The time it sticks. Maybe we are witnessing the evolution of the human race. Think about that. And then he asks me if I'd like to perform on a new singing program he's launching in a few weeks. Something upbeat would be good. He'll send the crew to my house.
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If you won't talk about yourself, at least compliment the audience. Just keep turning it back around, all right. Gush.
Suzanne Collins