Mockingjay (The Hunger Games, #3)

by Suzanne Collins

Some walks you have to take alone.

“Well, don’t expect us to be too impressed. We just saw Finnick Odair in his underwear.”

“I want to tell the rebels that I am alive. That I’m right here in District Eight, where the Capitol has just bombed a hospital full of unarmed men, women, and children. There will be no survivors.” The shock I’ve been feeling begins to give way to fury. “I want to tell people that if you think for one second the Capitol will treat us fairly if there’s a cease-fire, you’re deluding yourself. Because you know who they are and what they do.” My hands go out automatically, as if to indicate the whole horror around me. “This is what they do! And we must fight back!”

“Fire is catching!” I am shouting now, determined that he will not miss a word. “And if we burn, you burn with us!”

It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart.”

Because for just a moment, she catches sight of me, her lips form my name. And that’s when the rest of the parachutes go off.

We’re fickle, stupid beings with poor memories and a great gift for self-destruction.