Ladies and gentlemen....." His voice is quiet, but mine rings through the room. "Let the Seventy-sixth Hunger Games begin!

But I don't know what to him about the aftermath of killing a person. About how they never leave you.

Katniss, I don't think President Snow will kill Peeta. If he does, he won't have any way to hurt you." "So, what do you think they'll do to him?" I ask. "Whatever it takes to break you.

No. Now, shut up and eat your pears.

I wonder if Effie will still be wearing that silly pink wig, or is she'll be sporting some other unnatural color especially for the Victor Tour.

I don't have a talent, unless you count hunting illegally, which they don't. Or maybe singing, which I wouldn't do for the Capitol in a million years. My mother tried to interest me in a variety of suitable alternatives from a list Effie Trinket sent her. Cooking, flower arranging, playing the flute. None of them took, although Prim had a knack for all three. Finally Cinna stepped in and offered to help me develop my passion for designing clothes, which really required development since it was non-existent.

No, you won her over. Gave up everything for her. Maybe that's the only way to convince her you love her.