Suzanne Collins Quotes

I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now and live in it forever.

Lately the theme has been "No Peace" and the slogans bombard you from every side. NO PEACE, NO BREAD! NO PEACE, NO SECURITY! and of course, NO PEACEKEEPERS, NO PEACE! NO CAPITOL, NO PEACE! Hanging behind the temporary stage in front of the Justice Building is a huge banner of President Snow's face with the words PANEM'S #1 PEACEKEEPER.

I'm not their slave, the man mutters. I am, I say. That's why I killed Cato … and he killed Thresh … and he killed Clove … and she tried to kill me. It just goes around and around, and who wins? Not us. Not the districts. Always the Capitol. But I'm tired of being a piece in their Games.

"But Mockingjays were never a weapon," said Madge. "They’re just songbirds. Right?"

"Yeah, I guess so,” I said, But it’s not true. A mockingbird is just a songbird. A mockingjay is a creature the capitol never intended to exist. They hadn’t counted on the highly controlled jabberjay having the brains to adapt to the wild, to thrive in a new form. They hadn’t anticipated its will to live."

She must have had bad dreams and climbed in with our mother. Of course, she did. This is the day of the reaping.

"One more time? For the audience?" he says. His voice isn't angry. It's hollow, which is worse. Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me.
I take his hand, holding on tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go.

"Now he's [Cinna] arranging things around my living room: Clothing, fabrics, and sketchbooks with designs he's drawn. I pick one up and examine one of the dresses I supposedly created.
You know, I think I show a lot of promise," I say.
Get dressed, you worthless thing.

So it's you and a syringe against the Capitol? See, this is why no one lets you make the plans.

"All right, so give me some idea of what you can do," says Haymitch.

I can’t do anything," says Peeta, "unless you count baking bread."

Sorry, I don’t. Katniss. I already know you’re handy with a knife,” says Haymitch.

Not really. But I can hunt,” I say. “With a bow and arrow.”

And you’re good?” asks Haymitch.

I have to think about it. I’ve been putting food on the table for four years. That’s no small task. I’m not as good as my father was, but he’d had more practice. I’ve better aim than Gale, but I’ve had more practice. He’s a genius with traps and snares. “I’m all right,” I say."

The questions are just beginning. The arenas have been completely destroyed, the memorials built, there are no more Hunger Games. But they teach about them at school, and the girl knows we played a role in them. The boy will know in a few years.

I want to tell the rebels that I am alive. That I'm right here in District Eight, where the Capitol has just bombed a hospital full of unarmed men, women, and children. There will be no survivors. [...] I want to tell people that if you think for one second the Capitol will treat us fairly if there's a cease-fire, you're deluding yourself. Because you know who they are and what they do. [...] This is what they do! And we must fight back! [...] President Snow says he's sending us a message? Well, I have one for him. You can torture us and bomb us and burn our districts to the ground, but do you see that? We're with the camera, tracking to the planes burning on the roof of the warehouse. Tight on the Capitol seal on a wing, which melts back into the image of my face, shouting at the president. Fire is catching! And if we burn ... you burn with us!

"Peeta, you were supposed to wake me after a couple of hours," I say.

"For what? Nothing's going on here," he says. "Besides, I like watching you sleep. You don't scowl. Improves your looks a lot."

This, of course, brings on a scowl that makes him grin.

I just...I just miss him. And I hate being so alone.

For there to be betrayal, there would have to have been trust first.

I raise my left arm and twist my neck down to rip off the pill on my sleeve. Instead my teeth sink into flesh. I yank my head back in confusion to find myself looking into Peeta’s eyes, only now they hold my gaze. Blood runs from the teeth marks on the hand he clamped over my nightlock.

“Let me go!” I snarl at him, trying to wrest my arm from his grasp.

“I can’t,” he says.