I'm Running On Hate. When The Energy

He Hasn't Accepted His Death. He Is Already Fighting Hard To Stay Alive. Which Also Means That Kind Peeta Mellark, The Boy Who Gave Me Bread, Is Fighting Hard To Kill Me.

You Know, I Think This Is The First Time We've Ever Done Anything Normal Together.

Of Course You Are. The Tributes Were Necessary To The Games, Too. Until They Weren't," I Say. "and Then We Were Very Disposable - Right, Plutarch?

I Do Think You're Mad And I'll Still Go With You.

She's Prim's Size In Diameter.