Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else is unthinkable.

I guess after tonight Boots won't think the whole world is her friend," thought Gregor. She had to find out sometime, but it still made him sad.

When I wake, I have a brief, delicious feeling of happiness that is somehow connected with Peeta. Happiness, of course, is a complete absurdity at this point, since at the rate things are going, I'll be dead in a day. And that's the best-case scenario, if I'm able to eliminate the rest of the field, including myself, and get Peeta crowned as the winner of the Quarter Quell. Still, the sensation's so unexpected and sweet I cling to it, if only for a few moments. Before the gritty sand, the hot sun, and my itching skin demand a return to reality.

How about you, Mockingjay? You feel totally safe?” “Oh, yeah. Right up until I got shot,” I say.

The woods always look different at night...as if the daytime trees and flowers and stones had gone to bed and sent slightly more ominous versions of themselves to take their places.

A verbal promise behind closed doors, even a statement written on paper-these could easily evaporate . . . .

One time, my mother told me that I always eat like I'll never see food again. And I said, "I won't unless I bring it home." That shut her up.