I roll my eyes. "So when did I become so special? When they carted me off to the Capitol?" "No, about six months before that. Right after New Year's. We were in the Hob, eating some slop of Greasy Sae's. And Darius was teasing you about trading a rabbit for one of his kisses. And I realized...I minded.

And here I am, strapped into a tree, a stone's throw from the biggest idiot in the games.

I don't know what it is with Finnick and bread, but he seems obsessed with handling it.

You never know. Say the arena's actually a giant cake-" "Say we move on," I broke in.

You’ve got about as much charm as a dead slug.

I wish she was dead,' he says. 'I wish they were all dead and we were, too. It would be best.

If it's true, why do they leave us to live like this? With the hunger and the killings and the Games?" And suddenly I hate this imaginary underground city of District 13 and those who sit by, watching us die. They're no better than the Capitol.