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I drink in his wholeness, the soudness of his body and mind. It runs through me like the morphling they give me in the hospital, dulling the pain of the last weeks.
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
Mind
Week
Like
Lasts
Dulling
Last
Wholeness
Pain
Hospital
Running
Hospitals
Give
Runs
Body
Weeks
Giving
Drink
More quotes by Suzanne Collins
I can't help comparing what I have with Gale to what I'm pretending to have with Peeta. How I never question Gale's motives while I do nothing but doubt the latter's. It's not a fair comparison really. Gale and I were thrown together by a mutual need to survive. Peeta and I know the other's survival means our own death. How do you sidestep that?
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Birds are settling down for the night, singing lullabies to their young.
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I flee what I can't fight. What can only do me harm.
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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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Let me go!” I snarl at him, trying to wrest my arm from his grasp. “I can’t,” he says.
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Oh, my dear Miss Everdeen. I thought we had an agreement not to lie to each other.
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Tomorrow's a hunting day, I say. I won't be much of a help with that, Peeta says. I've never hunted before. I'll kill and you cook, I say. And you can always gather. I wish there was some sort of bread bush out there, says Peeta.
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Oh, Peeta, Don't make me sorry I restarted your heart.
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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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The numbness of his loss had passed, and the pain would hit me out of nowhere, doubling me over, racking my body with sobs. Where are you? I would cry out in my mind. Where have you gone? Of course, there was never any answer.
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I'm not flailing now, as my muscles are rigid with the tension of holding myself together.
Suzanne Collins
One slip. One slip in thousands. The odds had been entirely in her favor. But it hadn't mattered.
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Just the sound of his voice twists my stomach into a knot of unpleasant emotions like guilt, sadness and fear. And longing. I might as well admit there’s some of that too.
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No more fear of hunger. A new kind of freedom. But what then ... what? What would my life be like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I'm not really sure who I am, what my identity is. The idea scares me some.
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I killed you. And you. And you.
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They recognize me. Of course they recognize me. My face is uncovered and I'm standing here outside of District 12 pointing an arrow at them. Who else would I be?
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I go back to my room and lie under the covers, trying not to think of Gale and thinking of nothing else.
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Despite serious reservations, I had to forgive Finnick for his role in the conspiracy that landed me here. He, at least has some idea of what I'm going through. And it takes too much energy to stay angry with someone who cries so much.
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Never having been in love, this is going to be a real trick. I think of my parents. The way my father never failed to bring her gifts from the woods. The way my mother's face would light up at the sound of his boots at the door. The way she almost stopped living when he died.
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aren't they the very reason I have to try to fight? Because what has been done to them is so wrong, so beyond justification, so evil that there is no choice? Because no one has the right to treat them as they have been treated?
Suzanne Collins
