I need voices of reason and of hysteria and of empathy. I need to have an Alanis moment. I need advice from Elizabeth Bennett. I need Tim Tams and comfort food.

Never underestimate the value of knowing another's language. It can be far more powerful than swords and arrows.

You list the dead. You tell the stories of the past. You write about the catastrophes and the massacres. What about the living, Finnikin? Who honors them?

We were playing Rock, Paper, Scissors," she told him once. "I was paper and she was rock so I lived and she died.

Because being so dependent on people scares me.

Come here,” she says. “No, you come here.” “I said it first.” “Rock paper scissors.” “No. Because you’ll do nerdy calculations and work out what I chose the last six times and then you’ll win.” Will pushes away from the table and his hand snakes out and he pulls her toward him and Tom figures that Will was always going to go to her first.

How can you just forget a person completely until the moment you see his face again?