Girl talk. That thing I've always been so bad at.

We star-crossed lovers of District 12, who suffered so much and enjoyed so little the rewards of our victory, do not seek our fans' favor, grace them with our smiles, or catch their kisses. We are unforgiving. And I love it. Getting to be myself at last.

If your parent is deployed and you are that young, you spend the whole time wondering where they are and waiting for them to come home. As time passes and the absence is longer and longer, you become more and more concerned - but you don't really have the words to express your concern. There's only this continued absence.

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

Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else is unthinkable.

I just don't want them to change me, if I'm going to die I still want to be me.

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