Top 873 Quotes & Sayings by Suzanne Collins - Page 2

its not in my nature to go down without a fight even when things seem insurmountable

I'll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I'm afraid it could be taken away.

My spirit. This is a new thought. I'm not sure exactly what it means, but it suggests I'm a fighter. In a sort of brave way. It's not as if I'm never friendly. Okay, maybe I don't go around loving everybody I meet, maybe my smiles are hard to come by, but i do care for some people.

Tick tock, this is a clock.

Well, don't expect us to be too impressed. We just saw Finnick Odair in his underwear.

?I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to stay right here and cause all kinds of trouble.

There's no going back. So we might as well get on with things.

It crosses my mind that Cinna's calm and normal demeanor masks a complete madman.

But what was it Haymitch said when I asked if he had told Peeta the situation? That he had to pretend to be desperately in love? “Don’t have to. He’s already there.

Shame isn't a strong enough word for what I feel. "You could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him, you know," Haymitch says.

Want a sugar cube?" he asks in his old seductive voice.

Your only defense can be you were so madly in love you weren't responsible for your actions.

She genuinely likes people. All people, not just a select few she's spent years making up her mind about.

They can't hurt me. I'm not like the rest of you. There's no one left I love.

But if you want to find peace, you must first be able to hope it is possible.

I can't argue that Finnick isn't one of the most stunning, sensuous people on the planet. But I can honestly say he's never been attractive to me. Maybe he's too pretty, or maybe he's too easy to get, or maybe it's really that he'd just be too easy to lose.

Mostly we just add to the piles of rainbow glass that's been blown off the exteriors of the cany-colored buildings.

The ones I loved fly as birds in the open sky above me. Soaring, weaving, calling to me to join them. I want so badly to follow them, but the seawater saturates my wings, making it impossible to lift them. The ones I hated have taken to the water, horrible scaled things that tear my salty flesh with needle teeth. Biting again and again. Dragging me beneath the surface.

We could do it, you know." "What?" "Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it.

It's not easy to find a topic. Talking of home is painful. Talking of the present unbearable.

I think....you still have no idea. The effect you can have.

My nightmares are usually about losing you. I'm okay once I realize you're here.

Because I can count on my fingers the number of sunsets I have left, and I don't want to miss any of them.

I clench his hands to the point of pain. "Stay with me." His pupils contract to pinpoints, dialate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. "Always," he murmurs.

The cat that Prim got hates me, I think partly because I tried to drown it.

So that day, in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the valley song. Your hand shot right up in the air. She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear, every bird outside the windows fell silent...and right when your song ended, I knew - just like your mother - I was a goner.

People deal with me, but they are genuinely fond of Prim. Maybe there will be enough fondness to keep her alive.

Barbarism? That's ironic coming from a woman helping to prepare us for slaughter. And what's she basing our success on? Our table manners?

When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. My fingers stretch out, seeking Prim`s warmth but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress. She must have had bad dreams and climbed in with our mother. Of course, she did. This is the day of the Reaping.

But the words are easy and soothing, promising tomorrow will be more hopeful than this awful piece o time we call today.

This is the first kiss that we're both fully aware of. Neither of us hobbled by sickness or pain or simply unconscious. Our lips neither burning with fever or icy cold. This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another.

Frankly, our ancestors don't seem much to brag about. I mean, look at the state they left us in, with the wars, the broken planet. Clearly, they didn't care about what would happen to the people who came after them.

Because when he sings...even the birds stop to listen.

And then he gives me a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me.

"I'm not their slave," the man mutters. "I am," I say. "That's why I killed Cato ... and he killed Thresh ... and he killed Clove ... and she tried to kill me. It just goes around and around, and who wins? Not us. Not the districts. Always the Capitol. But I'm tired of being a piece in their Games."

Here's some advice. Stay alive.

I'll tell them how I survive it. I'll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I'm afraid it could be taken away. That's when I make a list in my head of every act of goodness I've seen someone do. It's like a game. Repetitive. Even a little tedious after more than twenty years. But there are much worse games to play.

I'm sure they didn't notice anything but you. You should wear flames more often," he says. "They suit you.

My guess is that fearful events are the hardest to root out. They're the ones we naturally remember the best, after all.

I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me.

The way she kissed you in the Quarter Quell…well she never kissed me like that…I should have volunteered to take your place in the first Games. Protected her then…I guess it’s Katniss’ problem. Who to choose…Katniss will pick whoever she thinks she can’t survive without.

I miss him so badly it hurts.

Whatever the opposite of fine is, that's what I am.

On and on we seal the pages with salt water and promises to live well to make their deaths count.

Do i really want him dead? What i want... what i want is to have him back.

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.

The berries. I realize the answer to who I am lies in that handful of poisonous fruit. If I held them out to save Peeta because I knew I would be shunned if I came back without him, then I am despicable. If I held them out because I loved him, I am still self-centered, although forgivable. But if I held them out to defy the capitol, I am someone of worth. The trouble is, I don't know exactly what was going on inside me at that moment.

I trusted him. I put what was precious in Haymitch's hands. & he has betrayed me

There's a chance that the old Peeta, the one who loves you, is still inside. Trying to get back to you. Don't give up on him.

He tilts his forehead down to rest against mine and pulls me closer. His skin, his whole being radiates heat from being so near the fire, and I close my eyes, soaking in his warmth. I breathe in the smell of snow-dampened leather and smoke and apples, the smell of all those wintry days we shared before the Games. I don't try to move away. Why should I anyway? His voice drops to a whisper. "I love you." That's why.

We fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice.

How could I leave Prim, who is the only person in the world I’m certain I love?

Crying is not an option.

District 12: Where you can starve to death in safety.

Poison. The perfect weapon for a snake.

The rat was merely trying to sleep. Believe me, pup, if I had wanted to kill you we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” said Ripred.

I stare at the mirror as I try to remember who I am and who I am not.

It's ideal really. They will come up with a plan. No one will like it. Everyone will feel they have been treated unfairly, but will be happy that their neighbors feel the same. And that is the nature of compromise. Now let's go eat an awful lot.

It starts at midnight.

But just before they cut back to the main newscaster, I see the unmistakable flash of that same mockingjay's wing. The reporter has simply been incorporated into the old footage. She's not in District 13 at all. Which begs the question, What is?