Poison. The Perfect Weapon For A Snake.

And There I Am, Blushing And Confused, Made Beautiful By Cinna’s Hands, Desirable By Peeta’s Confession, Tragic By Circumstance, And By All Accounts, Unforgettable.

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.

Fine, Than I Will Not Have To Blame You For Killing My Friends With Your Stupidity. -haymitch

If You Are Not Trying To Hold On To Time, You Are Not So Afraid Of Losing It.

Okay, Maybe I Don't Go Around Loving Everybody I Meet, Maybe My Smiles Are Hard To Come By, But I Do Care For Some People.