The damage, the fatigue, the imperfections. That's how they recognize me; Why I belong to them.

My mouth has gone dry as sawdust. I desperately find Cinna in the crowd and lock eyes with him. I imagine the words coming from his lips. 'What's impressed you most since you arrived here?' I rack my brain for something that made me happy here. Be honest, I think. Be honest.

If it's true, why do they leave us to live like this? With the hunger and the killings and the Games?" And suddenly I hate this imaginary underground city of District 13 and those who sit by, watching us die. They're no better than the Capitol.

So Haymitch, what do you think of the games have one hundred percent more competitors than usual?” asks Caesar. Haymitch shrugs. “I don’t see that it makes that much difference. They’ll still be one hundred percent as stupid as usual, so I figure my odds will be roughly the same.

What happens when we get back? I don't know. I guess we try and forget. I don't want to forget.

Orange? Like Effie's hair?" I say. "A bit more muted," he says. "More like sunset.

turn and turn and turn again you see the what, but not the when remedy and wrong entwine and so they form a single vine