I don't write about adolescence. I write about war. For adolescents.

As we curve around into the loop of the City Circle, I can see that a couple of other stylists have tried to steal Cinna and Portia's idea of illuminating their tributes. The electric-light-studded outfits from District 3, where they make electronics, at least make sense. But what are the livestock keepers from Distric 10, who are dressed as cows, doing with flaming belts? Broiling themselves? Pathetic.

it is a perfect weapon

I always channel my emotions into my work. That way, I don't hurt anyone but myself.

Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes, and when again they open, the sun will rise.

Peeta bakes. I hunt. Haymitch drinks until the liquor runs out.

So it's you and a syringe against the Capitol? See, this is why no one lets you make the plans.