Suzanne Collins Quotes

It crosses my mind that Cinna's calm and normal demeanor masks a complete madman.

In our world, I rank music somewhere between hair ribbons and rainbows in terms of usefulness.

We star-crossed lovers of District 12, who suffered so much and enjoyed so little the rewards of our victory, do not seek our fans' favor, grace them with our smiles, or catch their kisses. We are unforgiving.
And I love it. Getting to be myself at last.

They'll either want to kill you, kiss you, or be you.

Aim higher in case you fall short.

There's a chance that the old Peeta, the one who loves you, is still inside. Trying to get back to you. Don't give up on him.

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.

"If Peeta and I were both to die, or they thought we were....My fingers fumble with the pouch on my belt, freeing it. Peeta sees it and his hand clamps on my wrist. "No, I won't let you." "Trust me," I whisper. He holds my gaze for a long moment then lets go. I loosen the top of the pouch and pour a few spoonfuls of berries into his palm. Then I fill my own. "On the count of three?" Peeta leans down and kisses me once, very gently. "The count of three," he says. We stand, our backs pressed together, our empty hands locked tight. "Hold them out. I want everyone to see," he says. I spread out my fingers, and the dark berries glisten in the sun. I give Peeta's hand one last squeeze as a signal, as a good-bye, and we begin counting. "One." Maybe I'm wrong. "Two." Maybe they don't care if we both die. "Three!" It's too late to change my mind. I lift my hand to my mouth taking one last look at the world. The berries have just passed my lips when the trumpets begin to blare. The frantic voice of Claudius Templesmith shouts above them. "Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the 74th Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you - the tributes of District 12!

Yes, frosting. The final defense of the dying.

"It's a long shot, it's suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. My hands slide up his wrists to clasp his. "Don't let him take you from me."
Peeta's panting hard as he fights the nightmares raging his head. "No. I don't want to. . ."
I clench his hands to the point of pain. "Stay with me."
His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. "Always," he murmurs."

I realize, for the first time, how very lonely I've been in the arena. How comforting the presence of another human being can be.

I had to do that. At least once.

It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart.

"Lucy Gray," he said in his normal voice. "Lucy Gray. It's not too late to work something out." Of course, it was, but he owed her nothing. Certainly not the truth.

Because I can count on my fingers the number of sunsets I have left, and I don't want to miss any of them.