Only I keep wishing I could think of a way...to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games.

By the end of the session, I am no one at all. Haymitch started drinking somewhere around witty, and a nasty edge has crept into his voice. "I give up, sweetheart. Just answer the questions and try not to let the audience see how openly you despise them.

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.

Yeah, we wouldn't want to lose our little Mockingjay when she's finally begun to sing.

And to us, we're more married than any piece of paper or big party could make us.

It'd be better if he were easier to hate.

He wants as many victors as possible for the cameras to follow in the Capitol. Thinks it makes for better television." "Are you and Beetee going?" I ask. "As many young and attractive victors as possible," Haymitch corrects himself. "So, no. We'll be here.