Even in war there should be lines you didn’t cross.
My guess is that fearful events are the hardest to root out. They’re the ones we naturally remember the best, after all.
He never lets go of Annie’s hand. Not when they walk, not when they eat. I doubt he ever plans to.
Since Mags seems to have no ill effects from the nuts, Peeta collects bunches of them and fries them by bouncing them off the force field.
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.
It’s just me and the Bane. And I’m fighting him because he killed all of those innocent mice and people, and I have to stop him. Not because Sandwich says so but because I say so.
I don’t know what it is with Finnick and bread, but he seems obsessed with handling it.
It’d be better if he were easier to hate.
Here began countless days of hunting and snaring, fishing and gathering, roaming together through the woods, unloading our thoughts while we filled our game bags. This was the doorway to both sustenance and sanity. And we were each other’s key.
The sensation inside me grows warmer and spreads out from my chest down through my body out along my arms and legs to the tips of my being. Instead of satisfying me the kisses have the opposite effect of making my need greater.
Haymitch in my head full-time. Horrifying.
I’m not prepared for Rue’s family. Her parents, whose faces are still fresh with sorrow. Her fiver younger siblings, who resemble her so closely. The slight builds, the luminous brown eyes. They form a flock of small dark birds.
Either you came in here a swimmer or you’d better be a really fast learner.
Something inside me twists as I remember another voice. Rue. In the arena. When I gave her the leg of groosling. “Oh, I’ve never had a whole leg to myself before.” The disbelief of the chronically hungry.
There’s no going back. So we might as well get on with things.
Most rats read. Our frustration is, we cannot hold a pen to write.
As long as you can find yourself, you’ll never starve.
Impulsively, I lean forward and kiss him, stopping his word. This is probably overdue anyway since he’s right, we are supposed to be madly in love.
It’s the first time I’ve ever kissed a boy, which should make some sort of impression I guess, but all I can register is how unnaturally hot his lips are from the fever.
He’s dozed off again, but I kiss him awake, which seems to startle him. Then he smiles as if he’d be happy to lie there gazing at me forever.