How much energy they put into harming each other. How little into saving.

Birds are settling down for the night, singing lullabies to their young.

Delly lost her temper at Peeta over how he treated you. She got very squeaky. It was like someone stabbing a mouse with a fork repeatedly.

Never having been in love, this is going to be a real trick. I think of my parents. The way my father never failed to bring her gifts from the woods. The way my mother's face would light up at the sound of his boots at the door. The way she almost stopped living when he died.

Yeah, about that,” says Peeta, entwining his fingers in mine. “Don’t try something like that again.” “Or what?” I ask. “Or . . . or . . .” He can’t think of anything good. “Just give me a minute.

Here, cover yourself with this and I'll wash your shorts." "Oh, I don't care if you see me," says Peeta.

It's more complicated than that. I know them. They're not evil or cruel. They're not even smart. Hurting them, it's like hurting children.