Well You Are A Piece Of Work

They're Betting On How Long I'll Live!" I Burst Out. "they're Not My Friends!" "well, Try And Pretend!" Snaps Effie. Then She Composes Herself And Beams At Me. "see, Like This. I'm Smiling At You Even Though You're Aggravating Me.

Do It. Before They Send Those Mutts Back Or Something. I Don't Want To Die Like Cato," He Says. “then You Shoot Me," I Say Furiously, Shoving The Weapons Back At Him. "you Shoot Me And Go Home And Live With It!" And As I Say It, I Know Death Right Here, Right Now Would Be The Easier Of The Two.

What Is The Worst Pain? To Me, It's Always The Pain That Is Present.

Want A Sugar Cube? [...] They're Supposed To Be For The Horses, But Who Cares? They've Got Years To Eat Sugar, Whereas You And I . . . Well, If We See Something Sweet We Better Grab It Quick. [...] You're Absolutely Terrifying Me In That Get-up. What Happened To The Pretty Little-girl Dresses?

I Knew It. In This Way, Peeta's Not Hard To Predict. While I Was Wallowing Around On The Floor Of That Cellar, Thinking Only Of Myself, He Was Here, Thinking Of Me. Shame Isn't A Strong Enough Word For What I Feel.