Im still betting on you. - Cinna.

Something small and quiet, like a match being struck, lights up the gloom inside of me.

Yes, and I’m sure the arena will be full of bags of flour for me to chuck at people.

You would think after all the hours I’d spent with Gale– watching him talk and laugh and frown– that I would know all there was to know about his lips. But I hadn’t imagined how warm they would feel pressed against my own. Or how those hands [...] could entrap me… I vaguely remember my fingers, curled tightly closed, resting on his chest.

I thought he wanted it, anyway," I say. "Not like this," Haymitch says. "He wanted it to be real.

Aim higher in case you fall short.

We could do it, you know.