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

While you live, the revolution lives

The air's warm with hopeful hints of spring in it. Spring would be a good time for an uprising, I think. Everyone feels less vulnerable once winter passes.

Despite what I feel for Peeta, this is when I accept deep down that he'll never come back to me. Or i'll never go back to him. I'll die for my trouble. And he'll die insane and hating me.

I keep hoping that as time passes by, we’ll regain the ease between us, but part of me knows it’s futile. There’s no going back.

But if you want to find peace, you must first be able to hope it is possible.

So that's who Finnick loves, I think. Not his string of fancy lovers in the Capitol. But a poor, mad girl back home.