In Other Words, I Step Out Of

An Ability To Look Into The Confusing Mess Of Life And See Things For What They Are.

Not Only Does He Hate Me, And Want To Kill Me, He No Longer Believes I'm Human. It Was Less Painful Being Strangled.

So Haymitch, What Do You Think Of The Games Have One Hundred Percent More Competitors Than Usual?” Asks Caesar. Haymitch Shrugs. “i Don’t See That It Makes That Much Difference. They’ll Still Be One Hundred Percent As Stupid As Usual, So I Figure My Odds Will Be Roughly The Same.

It’s The Final Word In Camouflage. Forget Chucking Weights Around. Peeta Should Have Gone Into His Private Session With The Gamemakers And Painted Himself Into A Tree. Or A Boulder. Or A Muddy Bank Full Of Weeds.

You're A Painter. You're A Baker. You Like To Sleep With The Windows Open. You Never Take Sugar In Your Tea. And You Always Double-knot Your Shoelaces.