Then Octavia drops to her knees, rubs the hem of a skirt against her cheek, and burst into tears. "It's been so long," she gasps, "since I've seen anything pretty.
Suzanne CollinsThey can pump whatever they want into my arm but it takes more than that to keep a person going once she's lost the will to live.
Suzanne CollinsI wrap my arms around his neck, feel his arms hesitate before they embrace me. Not as steady as they once were, but still warm and strong. A thousand moments surge through me. All the times these arms were my only refuge from the world. Perhaps not fully appreciated then, but so sweet in my memory, and now gone for ever.
Suzanne CollinsWhat? My head doctor says I'm not supposed to censor my thoughts. It's part of my therapy.
Suzanne CollinsBecause it doesn't matter anymore, and because I'm so desperately lonely I can't stand it.
Suzanne CollinsPeeta, how come I never know when you're having a nightmare?” I say. “I don't know. I don't think I cry out or thrash around or anything. I just come to, paralyzed with terror,” he says. “You should wake me,” I say, thinking about how I can interrupt his sleep two or three times on a bad night. About how long it can take to calm me down. “It's not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you,” he says. “I'm okay once I realize you're here.
Suzanne Collins