Suzanne Collins · 1155 pages
Rating: (166.9K votes)
“Lucky thing were allies, right?
“Well you are a piece of work aren't you?”
“If I burn, you burn with me”
“My children, who don't know they play on a graveyard.”
“It's the things we love most, that destroy us.”
“He lives alone, no wife or children, most of his waking hours drunk. I don’t want to end up like that.”
“We’re going to form a republic where the people of each district and the Capitol can elect their own representatives to be their voice in a centralized government. Don’t look so suspicious; it’s worked before.”
“I am going back into the arena.”
“May the odds be ever in your Favour”
“I almost forgot! Happy Hunger Games!”
“It takes some adjusting from a bow to a gun, but by the end of the day, I’ve got the best score in my class.”
“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.”
“Floating on my back, as I am now,”
“They might. But you’re playing on their natural instincts to flee danger. Thinking like your prey . . . that’s where you find their vulnerabilities,”
“Happy Hunger Games!” He plucks a few blackberries from the bushes around us. “And may the odds —” He tosses a berry in a high arc toward me.”
“Hope. It is the only thing stronger than fear.”
“Maybe they were onto something in Six. Drug yourself out and paint flowers on your body. Not such a bad life. Seemed happier than the rest of us, anyway.”
“But the apples must have set off enough mines, causing debris to activate the others.”
“You can’t,” says Peeta. He holds out his hand into seemingly empty space. There’s a sharp zap and he jerks it back. “Some kind of electric field throws you back on the roof.” “Always worried about our safety,” I say. Even though Cinna has shown Peeta the roof, I wonder if we’re supposed to be up here now, so late and alone. I’ve never seen tributes on the Training Center roof before. But that doesn’t mean we’re not being taped. “Do you think they’re watching us now?” “Maybe,” he admits. “Come see the garden.” On the other side of the”
“May the odds be ever in your favor ~ Effie Trinket”
“What must it be like, I wonder, to live in a world where food appears at the press of a button? How would I spend the hours I now commit to combing the woods for sustenance if it were so easy to come by? What do they do all day, these people in the Capitol, besides decorating their bodies and waiting around for a new shipment of tributes to roll in and die for their entertainment?”
“then smiles. “Well, if I end up going to the”
“His love of music, unlike his other loves, owned to vaguenesses, but while, on his comparatively shaded sofa, and smoking, smoking, always smoking, in the great Fawns drawing-room as everywhere, the cigars of his youth, rank with associations – while, I say, he so listened to Charlotte’s piano, where the score was ever absent but, between the lighted candles, the picture distinct, the vagueness spread itself about him like some boundless carpet, a surface delightfully soft to the pressure of his interest.”
“Her smile turned wicked. “And I’m not a silly girl to be blinded by a tidy posterior and expansive landholdings.”
Tidy posterior and expansive landholdings? Was that the Dark Ages equivalent of a tight ass and a lot of money?”
“إن الأشياء التى نريدها تأتى متأخرة دائماً”
“A lemon,” said Mrs. Lefkowitz, and nodded. “Huh?” “Think about fruit,” she continued. “When you squeeze an orange, what do you get?” Rose smiled. “Trouble?” “No, no, Mrs. Smart. You get orange juice. You don’t get grapefruit juice, you don’t get apple juice, you don’t get milk. You get orange juice. Every time. People are like that. They can only give you what they have inside. So if this Sydelle character is giving you so much trouble, it’s because she’s nothing but trouble on the inside. She’s just delivering what’s in her heart into the universe.” And Mrs. Lefkowitz sat back, looking pleased with herself.”
“In my opinion, men deny animals have feelings and thoughts for one basic reason: so they won’t feel guilty about what they do to them. But”
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