He Frosted Under Heavy Guard.

But There Was Only One Kiss That Made Me Feel Something Stir Deep Inside. Only One That Made Me Want More. But My Head Wound Started Bleeding And He Made Me Lie Down.

In Our World, I Rank Music Somewhere Between Hair Ribbons And Rainbows In Terms Of Usefulness.

Maybe I'll Be Like That Man In "the Hanging Tree'. Still Waiting For An Answer.

If You Appeal To The Crowd, Either By Being Humorous Or Brutal Or Eccentric, You Gain Favor.

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.