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Crying is not an option.

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
Option
Crying
Cry

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I turn and put my lips close to Peeta's and drop my eyelids in imitation... He offered me sugar and wanted to know all my secrets, I say in my best seductive voice.
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Because I can count on my fingers the number of sunsets I have left, and I don't want to miss any of them.
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We had to save you because you're the mockingjay, Katniss, says Plutarch. While you live, the revolution lives.
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Plants are tricky. Many are edible, but one false mouthful and your dead
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Eyes on the forest, not on the trees.
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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'm very hard to catch, says Rue. And if they can't catch me, they can't kill me. So don't count me out.
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I miss him so badly it hurts.
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In that one slight motion, I see the end of hope, beginning of destruction of everything I hold dear in the world. I can't guess what form my punishment will take, how wide the net will be cast, but when it is finished there most likely be nothing left. So you would think that at this moment, I would be in utter despair.
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He felt around desperately for a weapon. What did he have? Diapers? Cookies? Oh, why hadn't they given him a sword? He was the stupid warrior, wasn't he? His fingers dug in the leather bag and closed around the root beer can. Root beer! He yanked out the can shaking it with all his might. Attack! Attack! he yelled.
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As long as you can find yourself, you’ll never starve.
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See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner, A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you? Because when he sings...even the birds stop to listen.
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Positioned on my dresser, that white-as-snow rose is a personal message to me. It speaks of unfinished business. It whispers, I can find you. I can reach you. Perhaps I am watching you now.
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No more kisses for you, until you have eaten !
Suzanne Collins
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I can feel Peeta press his forehead into my temple and he asks, 'So now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?' I turn into him. 'Put you somewhere you can't get hurt.
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I guess there isn’t a rule book for what might be unacceptable to do to another human being.
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It's impossible to be the Mockingjay. Impossible to complete even this one sentence. Because now I know that everything I say will be directly taken out on Peeta. Result in his torture. But not his death, no nothing so merciful as that. Snow will ensure that his life is much worse than death.
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This is no place for a girl on fire.
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For a second, I'm afraid he's dying. I have to remind myself that I don't care.
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Yes, frosting. The final defense of the dying.
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