Everything is happening too fast for me to process it.
Dawn comes before sleep does.
Highly unlikely but not impossible.
Great. Now I have to go back and tell Haymitch I want an eighty-year-old and Nuts and Volts for my allies. He’ll love that.
Let them go, I tell myself. Say good-bye and forget them. I do my best, thinking of them one by one, releasing them like birds from the protective cages inside me, locking the doors against their return.
They can pump whatever they want into my arm but it takes more than that to keep a person going once she’s lost the will to live.
Right before the explosions begin, I find a star.
She genuinely likes people. All people, not just a select few she’s spent years making up her mind about.
Not like this. He wanted it to be real.
I also want to tell him how much I already miss him. But that wouldn’t be fair on my part.
You know, you’re kind of squeamish for such a lethal person.
But the words are easy and soothing, promising tomorrow will be more hopeful than this awful piece o time we call today.
I can almost hear Haymitch groaning as I team up with this wispy child. But I want her. Because she’s a survivor, and I trust her, and why not admit it? She reminds me of Prim.
I’m not allowed to bet, but if I could, my money would be on you.
Haymitch said you’d take a lot of convincing.
I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so grateful that he’s here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought. So glad I don’t have to face Cato alone.
Whatever the opposite of fine is, that’s what I am.
I’m filled with awe, as I always am, as I watch her transform from a woman who calls me to kill a spider to a woman immune to fear.
Just last year i wanted to kill him, but now it is my duty to save him.
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.