But collective thinking is usually short-lived. We're fickle, stupid beings with poor memories and a great gift for self-destruction.

Remember that even in war there is a time for restraint. A time to hold back your sword.

Then I dive into my tent before I do something stupid like cry.

I send a silent thank-you to Dalton for suggesting I wash off the makeup. How ridiculous, how perverse I would feel presenting that painted Capitol mask to these people. The damage, the fatigue, the imperfections. That's how they recognize me, why I belong to them.

Pity does not get you aid. Admiration at your refusal to give in does.

aren't they the very reason I have to try to fight? Because what has been done to them is so wrong, so beyond justification, so evil that there is no choice? Because no one has the right to treat them as they have been treated?

if he goes and dies on me now, I know I'll go completely insane.