My little sister, Prim, curled up on her side, cocooned in my motherโs body, their cheeks pressed together. In sleep, my mother looks younger, still worn but not so beaten-down. Primโs face is as fresh as a raindrop, as lovely as the primrose for which she was named. My mother was very beautiful once, too. Or so they tell me.
Suzanne CollinsYouโre not leaving me here alone,โ I say. Because if he dies, Iโll never go home, not really. Iโll spend the rest of my life in this arena, trying to think my way out.
Suzanne CollinsMaybe everyone is just trying to protect me by lying to me. I don't care. I'm sick of people lying to me for my own good.
Suzanne CollinsSee that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner," "A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?" "Because when he sings...even the birds stop to listen.
Suzanne CollinsCharred bits of black silk swirl into the air, and pearls clatter to the stageโฆ Iโm in a dress of the exact design of my wedding dress, only itโs the color of coal and made of tiny feathers. Wonderingly, I lift my long, flowing sleeves into the air, and thatโs when I see myself on the television screen. Clothed in black except for the white patches on my sleeves. Or should I say my wings. Because Cinna had turned me into a mockingjay.
Suzanne Collins