Well, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns into pearls!
And like a fool, I bought into it.
I got my father’s blood.” The kind that quickens during a hunt, not an epidemic.
Theoretically, we should.
And then it hits me. They already have. They have kiled her father in those wretched mines. They have sat by as she almost starved to death. They have chosen her as a tribute, then made her watch her sister fight to the death in the Games. She has been hurt far worse than I had at the age of twelve. And even that pales in comparison with Rue’s life.
You shoot me and go home and live with it!” And as I say it, I know death right here, right now would be the easier of the two.
But that means the pups are starving to death, too. Not just the big rats,” said Gregor. “Doesn’t that bother you?” “Of course it bothers me!” Mareth shook his head and sighed. “It is so hard for you to know what it is like for us here, Gregor.
My refusal to play the Games on the Capitol’s terms is to be my last act of rebellion. So.
Peeta seemed to have been waging a sort of battle in his mind, fighting to get the message out.
I stare fixedly at the little black specks on the sheet. For a while, they’re obscured by the residual blood droplets that I can’t seem to wipe from my vision. Slowly, the words come into focus.
Looking at Prim’s face, it’s hard to imagine she’s the same frail little girl I left behind on reapimg day nine months ago. The combination of that ordeal and all that has followed – the cruelty in the district, the parade of sick and wounded that she often treates herself now if my mother’s hands are too full – these things have aged her years. She’s grown quite a bit, too; we’re practically the same height now, but that isn’t what makes her seem so much older.
Why? The ease with which he manipulates words is his greatest talent. Was his difficulty a result of his torture? Something more? Like madness?
How did you meet Peeta?
Apparently, Peeta Mellark’s information was sound and we owe him a great debt of gratitude.
When I met Peeta, I was eleven years old, and I was almost dead.” I talk about that awful day when I tried to sell the baby clothes in the rain, how Peeta’s mother chased me from the bakery door, and how he took a beating to bring me the loaves of bread that saved our lives. “We had never even spoken. The first time I ever talked to Peeta was on the train to the Games.
Look how we take your children and sacrifice them and there’s nothing you can do.
Cinna, being dragged, bloody and unconscious, from the Launch Room before the Games.
No forma part de la meva naturalesa rendir-me sense lluitar, encara que les coses semblin impossibles.
It brings on the flood of images that torments me, awake or asleep. Peeta being tortured – drowned, burned, lacerated, shocked, maimed, beaten – as the Capitol tries to get information about the rebellion that he doesn’t know. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to reach for him across the hundreds and hundreds of miles, to send my thoughts into his mind, to let him know he is not alone. But he is. And I can’t help him.
Deep in the meadow, under the willow A bed of grass, a soft green pillow Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes And when again they open, the sun will rise. Here it’s safe, here it’s warm Here the daisies guard you from every harm Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true Here is the place where I love you.