I start to crack at four hundred to one.

Well you are a piece of work aren't you?

We had to save you because you're the mockingjay, Katniss," says Plutarch. "While you live, the revolution lives.

Maybe I'll be like that man in "The Hanging Tree'. Still waiting for an answer.

The glue of mutual need that bonded us so tightly together for all those years is melting away. Dark patches, not light, show in the spaces between us.

Isn't it strange that I know you'd risk your life to save mine, but I don't even know what your favorite color is?

It's lovely. If only you could frost someone to death." "Don't be so superior. You can never tell what you will find in the arena. Say it's a gigantic cake-