Look how we take your children and sacrifice them and there’s nothing you can do. If you lift a finger, we will destroy every last one of you. Just as we did in District Thirteen.

I don’t know what the explosion did, but it damaged something deep and irreparable. Never mind. If I get home, I’ll be so stinking rich, I’ll be able to pay someone to do my hearing.

I will never have a life with Gale even if I want to.

If you appeal to the crowd, either by being humorous or brutal or eccentric, you gain favor.

My little sister, Prim, curled up on her side, cocooned in my mother’s body, their cheeks pressed together. In sleep, my mother looks younger, still worn but not so beaten-down. Prim’s 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.

Glimmer, I hear someone call her - ugh, the names the people in District 1 give their children are so ridiculous.

I also want to tell him how much I already miss him. But that wouldn't be fair on my part.