Winning the Games will make you famous, losing will mean death.

It sends out a very clear message: "Mess with us and we'll do something worse than kill you. We'll kill your children.

Peeta bakes. I hunt. Haymitch drinks until the liquor runs out.

While you live, the revolution lives

But there was only one kiss that made me feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made me want more. But my head wound started bleeding and he made me lie down.

I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I'm so grateful that he's here, not dead by the stream as I'd thought. So glad I don't have to face Cato alone.

Because I can't handle the nightmares. Not without you.