deep in the meadow , under the willow , a bed of grass , a soft green pillow

You'll never be able to let him go. You'll always feel wrong about being with me.

The anguish I always feel when she's in pain wells up in my chest and threatens to register on my face.

Maybe the other tributes are out there beating one another senseless. Which would be fine. - Katniss -

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

Maybe . . . because for the first time . . . there was a chance I could keep him,” I say. “So now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?” “Put you somewhere you can't get hurt.” And when he kisses me, people in the room actually sigh.

You call that a kiss?