Book: Mockingjay

Don't know how to explain to him what it means to kill a man. And that the dead will forever remain with you.

On the last page a sketch of my mockingjay pin, Cinna's written, "I'm still betting on you."

Maybe Pete is right: we destroy each other, our place was taken by another more worthy species. After all, beings who mediate differences at the sacrifice of their children, something is clearly not right.

We're fickle, stupid creatures with a weak mind and a talent for self-destruction.

I will tell the kids about how I handle it, how on a bad day I'm not happy - because I am afraid to lose. In such days I make a mental list of all the good things witnessed. It's like a game. It is repeated again and again. After twenty plus years she even became a bit tedious.
But there are games much worse than this.

Because angry, free-thinking winner with the formation of the psychological problems that too fat to be rake, perhaps the last person you want to see in your squad.

If all this is true, it would be more humane to kill Peeta here and now. But fortunately, or unfortunately, me runs not humanism.

I turned it into a piece of their own Games? This is low, but I'm not sure it is beneath my dignity.

I remember that I'm not the only one whose world has skinned.

On the third night, during our game, I find the answer to a question that is consuming me. "Wild Cat" was a metaphor for my situation. Buttercup is me. Pete is someone I want so badly to protect is the light from a flashlight. While Buttercup seems that he still has a chance to grab the clutches of the elusive ray, he is aggressive and rears (just like me, since you left the arena, leaving Peeta alive). When the beam goes out completely, Buttercup at the time upset and lost, but quickly recovers and grabs something else (this is what will happen if Pete dies). But one thing that introduces Buttercup to a screeching halt is when I direct the torch high on the wall where he simply can't get it and even bounce. He rushes along the wall, yelling, and nothing can neither be comforted or distracted. And in this state he remains until, until I turn off the flashlight (that's what it tries to do things with me snow, but I don't know what shape his game).

Strange things happen sometimes
Don't be sad, we at midnight I'll meet you?

Fever. Ashes. Suffering. Unusual taste for tender.

I close my eyes, but it does not help. In the darkness, the fire burns even brighter.

Thinking like your prey... that's where you'll find her weak spot.