Top 873 Quotes & Sayings by Suzanne Collins - Page 14

At least, you two have decent manners," says Effie as we're finishing the main course. "The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion." ... My mother taught Prim and me to eat properly, so yes, I can handle a fork and knife. But I hate Effie Trinket's comment so much I make a point of eating the rest of my meal with my fingers. Then I wipe my hands on the tablecloth. This makes her purse her lips tightly together.

No. Now, shut up and eat your pears.

The woods always look different at night...as if the daytime trees and flowers and stones had gone to bed and sent slightly more ominous versions of themselves to take their places.

But in my head I can hear Haymitch's smug, if slightly exasperated, words: "Yes, that's what I'm looking for, sweetheart.

My mother just wanted me to forget it. So, of course, every word was immediately, irrevocably branded into my brain.

For a second, I'm afraid he's dying. I have to remind myself that I don't care.

Well, I can't leave Mags behind," says Finnick. "She's one of the few people who actually likes me.

I killed you. And you. And you.

And some small gnarled place inside me hated her for her weakness, for her neglect, for the months she had put us through. I had taken a step back from my mother, put up a wall to protect myself from needing her, and nothing was ever the same between us again.

Once I'm on my feet i realize escape might not be so simple, panic begins to set in. i can't stay here. flight is essential but i can't let my fear show. Winning means fame and fortune, losing mean certain death, The Hunger Games have begun . . .

Because it doesn't matter anymore, and because I'm so desperately lonely I can't stand it.

My mockingjay pin now lives with Cinna's outfit, but there's the gold locket and the silver parachute with the spile and Peeta's pearl. I knot the pearl into the corner of the parachute, bury it deep in the recesses of the bag, as if it's Peeta's life and no one can take it away as long as I guard it.

I'd begun to think that he'd given up on me in the weeks that had passed. Or that he no longer cared about me. Hated me even. And the idea of losing him forever, my best friend, the only person I'd ever trusted with my secrets, was so painful I couldn't stand it.

He hates me more," says Peeta. "I don't think people in general are his sort of thing.

Making knots. Making knots. No word. Making knots. Tick-tock. This is a clock. Do not think of Gale. Do not think of Peeta. Making knots.

Everything is about them, not the dying boys and girls in the arena.

Even though I don't ask, Plutarch gives me cheerful updates on the phone like "Good news, Katniss! I think we've almost got him convinced you're not a mutt!" Or "Today he was allowed to feed himself pudding!

Every day when I wake I tell myself that it will be my last. If you are not trying to hold on to time, you are not so afraid of losing it... And then, if you make it to bedtime, you feel the joy of cheating death out of one more day.

I wrap my arms around his neck, feel his arms hesitate before they embrace me. Not as steady as they once were, but still warm and strong. A thousand moments surge through me. All the times these arms were my only refuge from the world. Perhaps not fully appreciated then, but so sweet in my memory, and now gone for ever.

So I thought if I stopped being so, you know, wounded, we could take a shot at just being friends. - Peeta Mellark

I thought he wanted it, anyway," I say. "Not like this," Haymitch says. "He wanted it to be real.

Sorry excuses for hunters and friends. Both of us.

It’s the final word in camouflage. Forget chucking weights around. Peeta should have gone into his private session with the Gamemakers and painted himself into a tree. Or a boulder. Or a muddy bank full of weeds.

Right before the explosions begin, I find a star.

The arenas are historic sites, preserved after the Games. Popular destinations for Capitol residents to visit, to vacation. Go for a month, rewatch the Games, tour the catacombs, visit the sites where the deaths took place. You can even take part in reenactments. They say the food is excellent

Caesar Flickerman asks if the president has a date in mind. "Oh, before we set a date, we better clear it with Katniss's mother," says the president. The audience gives a big laugh and the president puts his arm around me. "Maybe if the whole country puts its mind to it, we can get you married before you're thirty." "You'll probably have to pass a new law," I say with a giggle. "If that's what it takes," says the president with conspiratorial good humor. Oh, the fun we two have together.

Don't. Don't let's pretend when there's no one around.

I guess there isn’t a rule book for what might be unacceptable to do to another human being.

It's your own fault for being so camera-ready," I tell Gale. If looks could kill.

Hope is the only thing stronger than fear.

No one really needs me," he says, and there is no self-pity in his voice. It's true his family doesn't need him. They will mourn him, as will a handful of friends. But they will get on. Even Haymitch, with the help of a lot of white liquor, will get on. I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me. "I do," I say. "I need you.

I volunteer!" I gasp. "I volunteer as tribute!

A hysterical young woman with flowing brown hair is also called from 4, but she's quickly replaced by a volunteer, an eighty-year-old woman who needs a cane to walk to the stage.

"Although who knows? Maybe this will be it, Katniss." "What?" I ask. "The time it sticks. Maybe we are witnessing the evolution of the human race. Think about that." And then he asks me if I'd like to perform on a new singing program he's launching in a few weeks. Something upbeat would be good. He'll send the crew to my house.

If I can make it clear that I’m still defying the Capitol right up to the end, the Capitol will have killed me... but not my spirit. What better way to give hope to the rebels?

Why am I hopping around like some trained dog trying to please people I hate?

Behind a rack of framed photos of Snow, we encounter a wounded Peacekeeper propped up against a strip of brick wall. He asks us for help. Gale knees him in the side of the head and takes his gun.

Peeta: You be nice to her, Finnick. Or I might try and take her away from you. Finnick: Oh, Peeta. Don't make me sorry I restarted your heart.

Technically, I am unarmed. But no one should ever underestimate the harm that fingernails can do. Especially if the target is unprepared.

I curl up, make myself smaller, try to disappear entirely. Wrapped in silence, I slide my bracelet that reads 'mentally disoriented' around and around my wrist.

I’m in pain. That’s the only way I get your attention

I can see the first apple teetering when I let the third arrow go, catching the torn flap and ripping it from the bag. For a moment, everything seems frozen in time. Then the apples spill to the ground and I'm blown backward into the air.

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.

I search his eyes for the slightest sign of anything, fear, remorse, anger. But there's only the same look of amusement that ended our last conversation. It's as if he's speaking the words again. "Oh, my dear Miss Everdeen. I thought we had agreed not to lie to each other." He's right. We did. The point of my arrow shifts upward. I release the string. And President Coin collapses over the side of the balcony and plunges to the ground. Dead.

Let the Seventy-forth Hunger Games begin, Cato, I think. Let them begin for real.

Oh, he's on top of it. It was volunteer only, but he pretended not to notice me waving my hand in the air," says Haymitch. "See? He's already demonstrated good judgment.

I don’t want anyone with me today. Not even him. Some walks you have to take alone.

Please feel free to take this personally.

It’s not wondering what I breathe in, but who, that threatens to choke me.

I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking.

There are much worse games to play.

She's Prim's size in diameter.

Whatever it takes to break you.

I think about going to the lake, but I'm so weak that I barely make it to my meeting place with Gale. I sit on the rock where Cressida filmed us, but it's too wide without his body beside me. Several times I close my eyes and count to ten, thinking that when I open them, he will have materialized without a sound as he so often did. I have to remind myself that Gale's in 2 with a fancy job, probably kissing another pair of lips.

While I was waiting...I ate your lunch.

Katniss, got that spile?" Finnick asks, snapping me back to reality.

Oh, no. It costs a lot more than your life. To murder innocent people?" says Peeta. "It costs everything you are.

Katniss: I guess all those hours decorating cakes paid off. Peeta: Yes, frosting. The final defence of the dying. (252)

She's not here," I tell him. Buttercup hisses again. "She's not here. You can hiss all you like. You won't find Prim." At her name, he perks up. Raises his flattened ears. Begins to meow hopefully. "Get out!" He dodges the pillow I throw at him. "Go away! There's nothing left for you here!" I start to shake, furious with him. "She's not coming back! She's never ever coming back here again!" I grab another pillow and get to my feet to improve my aim. Out of nowhere, the tears begin to pour down my cheeks. "She's dead, you stupid cat. She's dead.

You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces.