Anyone? On Snow's visit before the Victory Tour, he challenged me to erase any doubts of my love for Peeta. "Convince me," Snow said. It seems, under that hot pink sky with Peeta's life in limbo, I finally did. And In doing so, I gave him the weapon he needed to break me.
Suzanne CollinsTag: loss betrayal heart-ache teen-fiction dystpoia-fiction flash-back
Are you preparing for another war, Plutarch?" I ask.
"Oh, not now. Now we're in a sweet period where everyone agrees that our recent horrors should never be repeated," he says. "But collective thinking is usually short-lived. We're fickle, stupid beings with poor memories and a great gift for self-destruction. Although who knows? Maybe this will be it, Katniss.
Tag: war katniss hunger-games suzanne-collins mockingjay
Maybe . . . because for the first time . . . there was a chance I could keep him,” I say.
“So now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?”
“Put you somewhere you can't get hurt.”
And when he kisses me, people in the room actually sigh.
My voice, at first rough and breaking on the high notes, warms up into something splendid. A voice that would make the mockingjays fall silent and then tumble over themselves to join in.
Suzanne CollinsPeeta smiles and douses Haymitch's knife in white liquor from a bottle on the floor. He wipes the blade clean on his shirt tail and slices the bread. Peeta keeps all of us in fresh baked goods. I hunt. He bakes. Haymitch drinks. We have our own ways to stay busy, to keep thought of our time as contestants in the Hunger Games at bay.
Suzanne CollinsNo wonder I won the Games. NO decent person ever does.
Suzanne CollinsSuddenly I am furious, that with my life on the line, they don’t even have the decency to pay attention to me. That I’m being upstaged by a dead pig.
Suzanne CollinsTag: upstaging
Want a sugar cube? [...] They're supposed to be for the horses, but who cares? They've got years to eat sugar, whereas you and I . . . well, if we see something sweet we better grab it quick. [...] You're absolutely terrifying me in that get-up. What happened to the pretty little-girl dresses?
Suzanne CollinsTag: catching-fire finnick-odair
Never underestimate the power of a brillian stylist.
Suzanne CollinsI don't have a talent, unless you count hunting illegally, which they don't. Or maybe singing, which I wouldn't do for the Capitol in a million years. My mother tried to interest me in a variety of suitable alternatives from a list Effie Trinket sent her. Cooking, flower arranging, playing the flute. None of them took, although Prim had a knack for
all three. Finally Cinna stepped in and offered to help me develop my passion for designing clothes, which really required development since it was non-existent.
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