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 forever.
Suzanne CollinsOn and on we seal the pages with salt water and promises to live well to make their deaths count.
Suzanne CollinsA verbal promise behind closed doors, even a statement written on paper-these could easily evaporate . . . .
Suzanne CollinsI look down from the branch I'm perched on. The Careers look murderous. Now I smile.'How have things been with you?' I ask sweetly.
Suzanne Collins