Zahraa

“That’s when I see Lenore Dove. She’s up on a ridge, her red dress plastered to her body, one hand clutching the bag of gumdrops. As the train passes, she tilts her head back and wails her loss and rage into the wind. And even though it guts me, even though I smash my fists into the glass until they bruise, I’m grateful for her final gift. That she’s denied Plutarch the chance to broadcast our farewell. The moment our hearts shattered? It belongs to us.”
― Suzanne Collins, Sunrise on the Reaping

“They like to see me in pain. So, they send me visions of you. They feed off my pain, baby. And they get stronger every single day I’m here without you. They are trying to get out.” He presses his hands into the sides of his head. “And I don’t know how to stop them anymore. So, I need you to come back, okay? Please, I just need you to come back. Baby, I need you to save me.”
― Monty Jay, The Truths We Burn

“Dove color: Warm gray with a slight purplish or pinkish tint. Her color. Her bird. Her name.”
― Suzanne Collins, Sunrise on the Reaping

“Like all the Covey, music in her blood. But not like them, too. Less interested in pretty melodies, more in dangerous words. The kind that lead to rebel acts. The kind that got her arrested twice.”
― Suzanne Collins, Sunrise on the Reaping