Peeta smiles and douses Haymitch's knife in white liquor from a bottle on the floor. He wipes the blade clean on his shirt tail and slices the bread. Peeta keeps all of us in fresh baked goods. I hunt. He bakes. Haymitch drinks. We have our own ways to stay busy, to keep thought of our time as contestants in the Hunger Games at bay.
Suzanne CollinsMy 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 CollinsCato kneels beside Clove, spear in hand, begging her to stay with him. In a moment, he will realize it's futile, she can't be saved.
Suzanne CollinsRipred sighed. 'I suppose so. You and I seem to end up doing everything. Shall we say four members for each delegation?' 'Why not?' Luxa said. 'Four can be as stupid as ten. No need to crowd the room.' Ripred laughed. 'You know, I think you an I are going to get on famously.
Suzanne Collins