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

by Suzanne Collins

She says that’s just a teaspoon of trouble in a river of wrong.

Turns out I was built for implicit submission, head to toe, through and through, inside and out.

Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping. The arrogance of those bold words. You can take several things from me — my ma, my brother, my love — that are the only things worth keeping.

the walls of a person’s heart are not impregnable, not if they have ever known love.