My name is Katniss Everdeen. My home is District Twelve. Peeta was taken prisoner. He is thought to be dead. Most likely is dead. It would probably be best if he were dead... - Katniss EverdeenS

What about Gale?" "He's not a bad kisser either," I say shortly. "And it was okay with both of us? You kissing the other?" He asks. "No. It wasn't okay with either of you. But I wasn't asking your permission," I tell him. Peeta laughs again, coldly, dismissively. "Well, you're a piece of work, aren't you?

There's no point in comforting words, in telling her she'll be all right. She's no fool. Her hand reaches out and I clutch it like a lifeline. As if it's me who's dying instead of Rue.

for some reason Gale and Peeta do not coexist well in my thoughts.

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

And it takes so much energy to stay angry with someone who cries so much.

We could do it, you know." "What?" "Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it.