A Quote by Suzanne Collins
Sick and disoriented, I'm able to form only one thought: Peeta Mellark just saved my life.
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So I thought if I stopped being so, you know, wounded, we could take a shot at just being friends. - Peeta Mellark
I don't think it's going to work out. Winning...won't help in any case. Because...she came here with me. - Peeta Mellark
You and me Haymitch.Very cozy.Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights sitting around the fire retelling old Hunger Games tale. -Peeta Mellark
To this day, I can never shake the connection between this boy, Peeta Mellark, and the bread that gave me hope, and the dandelion that reminded me that I was not doomed.
He hasn't accepted his death. He is already fighting hard to stay alive. Which also means that kind Peeta Mellark, the boy who gave me bread, is fighting hard to kill me.
If I was to ask you tonight if you were saved? Do you say 'Yes, I am saved'. When? 'Oh so and so preached, I got baptized and...' Are you saved? What are you saved from, hell? Are you saved from bitterness? Are you saved from lust? Are you saved from cheating? Are you saved from lying? Are you saved from bad manners? Are you saved from rebellion against your parents? Come on, what are you saved from?
You'd have thought we planned it," says Peeta, giving me just the hint of a smile. "Didn't you?" asks Portia. Her fingers press her eyelids closed as if she's warding off a very bright light. "No," I say looking at Peeta with a new sense of apreciation. "Neither of us even knew what we were going to do before we went in." "And Haymitch?" says Peeta. "We decided we don't want any other allies in the arena." "Good. Then I won't be responsible for you killing off any of my friends with your stupidity," he says.
Regarding some of the super powers that I reference, like walking on water, I haven't seen people do that, but once you get into the science, a lot of it starts to make a lot of sense, for example, like people being able to read your mind. It's very logical, because words are just a grosser form of thought, and thought is just a grosser form of feeling.
So I only say, "So what should we do with our last few days?" "I just want to spend every possible minute of the rest of my life with you," Peeta replies.
When I wake, I have a brief, delicious feeling of happiness that is somehow connected with Peeta. Happiness, of course, is a complete absurdity at this point, since at the rate things are going, I'll be dead in a day. And that's the best-case scenario, if I'm able to eliminate the rest of the field, including myself, and get Peeta crowned as the winner of the Quarter Quell. Still, the sensation's so unexpected and sweet I cling to it, if only for a few moments. Before the gritty sand, the hot sun, and my itching skin demand a return to reality.
Peeta rinses the pearl off in the water and hands it to me. “For you.” I hold it out on my palm and examine its iridescent surface in the sunlight. Yes, I will keep it. For the few remaining hours of my life I will keep it close. This last gift from Peeta. The only one I can really accept. Perhaps it will give me strength in the final moments.
Well, first of all if it wasn't for being saved by Jesus, I would not be alive. I would be dead. Some people say Jesus saved their soul... Well, maybe Jesus saved my soul spiritually, but He also saved my life physically. Every aspect of my life today has to do with the fact that Jesus saved my life.
Finnick:" Good to see you, Peeta." Peeta:" You be nice to her, Finnick. Or I might try and take her away from you." It could be a joke, if the tone wasn't so cold. Everything it conveys is wrong. The open distrust of Finnick, the implication that Peeta has his eye on Annie, that Annie could desert Finnick, that I do not even exist. Finnick:"Oh Peeta," says Finnick lightly. "Don't make me sorry I restarted your heart.
We say that Christ so died that He infallibly secured the salvation of a multitude that no man can number, who through Christ's death not only may be saved, but are saved, must be saved, and cannot by any possibility run the hazard of being anything but saved.
I was in enough to get along with people. I was never socially inarticulate. Not a loner. And that saved my life, saved my sanity. That and the writing. But to this day I distrust anybody who thought school was a good time. Anybody.
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.
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