Sunrise on the Reaping (The Hunger Games)

by Suzanne Collins

“Bet I know a thing or two about your dove.” “Like what?” “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.”

Snow still hung up on her oh my god

But from where I’m sitting, hope seems a lot like white liquor. It can fool you in the short run, but like as not, you’ll end up paying for it twice.

Tough and smart, her hair in two braids then, reminding me for all the world of Louella McCoy, my sweetheart of old. And after she volunteered for the Games, that nickname couldn’t help but slip out. I didn’t want to let them in, her and Peeta, but the walls of a person’s heart are not impregnable, not if they have ever known love. That’s what Lenore Dove says, anyway.