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“You and me to the end. Right, Hay?” “You and me to the end,” I promise.
I’m embracing that when I realize the blood isn’t mine. That fate isn’t mine. And the tribute who’s escaped the arena is Louella.
Who will sing your songs now, Louella?
“I was going to give her this. For her token. So she’d have something from home.”
This is not the blood they want to paint their posters with.
I run for Louella, but I run for Woodbine, too, because he’ll never run again.
Maybe this is where I paint my own poster.
President Snow. Not on a screen, but in the flesh. The most powerful and, therefore, the most brutal person in Panem.
You are on a high horse, mister. And someday someone will knock you off it straight into your grave.
“Well, you got the last word tonight, Mr. Abernathy.” “Did I? What exactly did I say again, Miss Donner?” “Don’t mess with District Twelve.”
“I’d rather be despised than ignored.”
We never, none of us, had any choices.”
They will not use my tears for their entertainment.
Most of the tributes went nuts, but not Wiress.
It’s Mags, a victor from District 4. She looks at me sadly, knowingly, and then opens up her arms and says, “I’m so sorry about Louella, Haymitch.” For a moment, I teeter between anger and grief. But the dam finally breaks. I step into her embrace, drop my head on her shoulder, and begin to cry.
I don’t cry much in general. Only when people die, and then I cry hard and fast and ugly, which is what I do now. Because Louella is dead and I was supposed to look out for her and I didn’t. And while Lenore Dove will forever be my true love, Louella is my one and only sweetheart.
“I want to remind people I’m here because the Capitol won the war and thinks that, fifty years later, this is a fair way to punish the districts. But I’d like them to consider that fifty years is enough.”
You saw how those kids outside the gym looked at us. Like they think of us as animals. And they think of themselves as superior. So it’s okay to kill us. But the people in the Capitol aren’t better than us. Or smarter.”
First avoid the slaughter, Get weapons, look for water. Find food and where to sleep, Fire and friends can keep.
“We could’ve at least done some damage,” I tell Ringina. “At least a little. Possibly a considerable amount,” someone says behind me. I turn to see Plutarch. He waves his camera crew over to record the knife training, but his attention stays on me. “The question is, why didn’t you?”
As he turns, I note the pair of steel-rimmed glasses. While he bears a strong resemblance to Ampert, this is not why he looks familiar. It’s Beetee, a victor from District 3.
“It’s because I’m being punished for coming up with a plan to sabotage the Capitol’s communication system. I’m too valuable to kill, but my son is disposable.”
A world of words to wrap herself up in. Each book’s as precious as a person, she says, as it preserves someone’s thoughts and feelings long after they’re gone.
‘Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe . . .’ ?” Plutarch’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He completes the line. “‘. . . and forget this lost Lenore!’
He’s just a man, as mortal as the rest of us.
How has he unearthed this obscure fact about a pocket of musicians in the throwaway district of 12? Capitol informers?
All the birds I’ve encountered are vicious.”
“Like she’s delightful to look at, swishes around in bright colors, and sings like a mockingjay. You love her. And oh, how she seems to love you. Except sometimes you wonder, because her plans don’t include you at all.”
You know, my family has its own little aphorism.” “What’s that?” “Snow lands on top.”
Standing in the doorway is Louella McCoy.
this girl lacks Louella’s essence.
Most of all, she won’t look me in the eye, which my sweetheart never failed to do.
“You’re my hero. I hope I’m just like you when I grow up. Oh, wait a minute, that won’t be happening.”
“It’s okay, Lou Lou,” I whisper, sort of patting her side. “No one here will hurt you.”
“Oh, no, Haymitch. Even if we happen to, they have an enormous backup generator at the top end, just outside the arena itself.” “So what, then?” “We’re going to drown it.”
How Lenore Dove would love it if she knew I’d bested the Capitol and stopped the Games, at least for this year. There’s glory in that. Dignity. And if I did it using her flint striker? It’d be like we did it together. Painted a poster that no one could ignore. Outsmarted the Capitol and forced their citizens to see us as something other than mindless animals.
but the Everdeens could afford it on account of being hunters and having a little more disposable income.
Maysilee and Wyatt each get a six, Lou Lou pulls a three. And me? I get a one.
“You deserve to look beautiful tonight,” Effie replies. “And I think you’re all being very brave.”
“Shrew, calculator, lunatic, rascal.”
Maybe we’ll lose, but we’re sure making a lot of people proud back home.
oh, Haymitch . . . I don’t want to be on this earth without you.”
“Like in one of your songs, my ghost will hunt down your ghost and never give it a moment’s rest.”
“We will be together always,” I say with conviction. “I don’t know how, and I don’t know where, I don’t know anything, but I feel that in my heart. You and me, we will find each other, as many times as it takes.”
“Lenore Dove, I love you like all-fire. That’s for always.” “I love you like all-fire, too. You and no one else. Just like my geese, I mate for life. And then some. Forever.”
“No more implicit submission for you, Haymitch Abernathy. Blow that water tank sky high. The entire country needs you to.”
“You should know that, despite appearances, a desire for freedom is not limited to the districts.”
But not crude — this is a family show.”
“we just call them Near Beer Careers. You know, because they’re all foam and no beer.”
“Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore — Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.” Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
