I Start To Crack At Four Hundred

In District 12, Looking Old Is Something Of An Achievement Since So Many People Die Early. You See An Elderly Person, You Want To Congratulate Them On Their Longevity, Ask The Secret Of Survival. A Plump Person Is Envied Because They Aren't Scraping By Like The Majority Of Us. But Here Is Different. Wrinkles Aren't Desirable. A Round Belly Isn't A Sign Of Success.

Gale And I Were Thrown Together By A Mutual Need To Survive. Peeta And I Know The Other's Survival Means Our Own Death. How Do You Side Step That?

I Drag Myself Out Of Nightmares Each Morning And Find There's No Relief In Waking.

We Had To Save You Because You're The Mockingjay, Katniss," Says Plutarch. "while You Live, The Revolution Lives.

Four People Wheel Out A Huge Wedding Cake From A Side Room. Most Of The Guests Back Up, Making Way For This Rarity, This Dazzling Creation With Blue-green, White-tipped Icing Waves Swimming With Fish And Sailboats, Seals And Sea Flowers. But I Push My Way Through The Crowd To Confirm What I Knew At First Sight. As Surely As The Embroidery Stitches In Annie's Gown Were Done By Cinna's Hand, The Frosted Flowers On The Cake Were Done By Peeta's.