Mockingjay (The Hunger Games, #3)

by Suzanne Collins

Clearly, they didn’t care about what would happen to the people who came after them. But this republic idea sounds like an improvement over our current government.

Ouch, Suzanne.

Well, fine. I’ve got rope burn on my fingers, I can barely hold my eyes open, and a camera crew’s waiting for me to do something brilliant. And Snow’s got Peeta. Gale can think whatever he wants.

Love this.

Squad 451

Farenheit 451?

Cressida’s gun down the shaft. Far below, I can just make out Finnick, struggling to hang on as three mutts tear at him. As one yanks back his head to take the death bite, something bizarre happens. It’s as if I’m Finnick, watching images of my life flash by. The mast of a boat, a silver parachute, Mags laughing, a pink sky, Beetee’s trident, Annie in her wedding dress, waves breaking over rocks. Then it’s over.

No dammit no