Sunrise on the Reaping (The Hunger Games, #0.5)

by Suzanne Collins

“And that’s part of our trouble. Thinking things are inevitable. Not believing change is possible.”

And if Sid should ask, “But why do I have to do this?” We can only say, “Because this is the way things are.” Lenore Dove would hate that last bit. But it’s the truth.

Similar to the "orphan-crushing machine" tweet

I think about how many people spent their lives building this place, how many died before its completion, so that the Heavensbees could have somewhere to hang their pictures. Their smug, satisfied, ridiculous pictures. Well, the joke’s on the Heavensbees. Now they’re dead, too.

Sometimes she cries because things are so beautiful and we keep messing them up. Because the world doesn’t have to be so terrifying. That’s on people, not the world.

“I have nothing to live for.” I say this without even a note of self-pity. I am simply stating a fact. “Then you have nothing to lose. That puts you in a position of power.”