Sorry this took so long to get up, but I’ve been spending more time on my fanfic “Because She Came Here With Me” instead of this Katniss quotes post. Before I start I have 2 things I need to inform all my readers about.

1. For all of you who just can’t get enough of the Hunger Games you should buy this album on iTunes called Panem’s Best, by the Tributes. They are awesome. I am actually listening to them as I’m writing this!

2. I have a new AMAZING cover for my story!!!!!!!!!! Ta-Da!!

BOOK

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District 12. Where you can starve to death in safety.

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Anyway, Gale and I agree that if we have to choose between dying and a bullet to the head, the bullet to the head would be much quicker.

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In District 12, where the word “tribute” is pretty much synonymous with the word “corpse”, volunteers are all but exctinct.

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“I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!”

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To this day, I can never shake the connection between this boy, Peeta Mellark, and the bread that gave me hope and the dandelion that reminded me I was not doomed.

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Kind people have a way of their way inside of me and rooting there.

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He hasn’t accepted his death. He is already fighting hard to stay alive.

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Which…means kind Peeta Mellark, the boy who gave me the bread, is fighting hard to kill me.

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“With all that alcohol in him, it’s probably not advisable to have him around an open flame.”

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No one will forget me, not my look, not my name. Katniss. The girl who was on fire.

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The more likable he is, the more deadly he is. (about Peeta)

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You don’t forget the face of the person who was your last hope.

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What on earth does he mean? People help me? When we were dying of starvation, no one helped me! No one except Peeta.

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I’m being upstaged by a dead pig.

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“Thank you for your consideration.”

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I am not pretty. I am not beautiful. I am as radiant as the sun.

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“Myself? That’s no good, either. Haymitch says I’m sullen and hostile.

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“I’m awful. Haymitch called me a dead slug.”

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…every screen is now dominated by a shot of Peeta and me, separated by a few feet that in the viewer’s heads can never be breached. Poor tragic us.

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“He made me look weak!”

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“But we’re not star crossed lovers.”

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And there I am, blushing and confused, made beautiful by Cinna’s hands, desirable by Peeta’s confession, tragic by circumstance, and by all accounts, unforgettable.

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“Only….no offense, but who cares, Peeta?”

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Nervousness seeps into terror as I anticipate what is to come. I could be dead, flat-out dead, in an hour.

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Thanks for the knife.

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And here I am a stone’s throw from the biggest idiot in the games. Strapped to a tree. Not daring to flee since my general location has just been broadcast to any killer that cares.

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Stupid people are dangerous

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I need to look one step in front of the game.

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It would be hard to miss the wall of fire descending on me.

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The gamemakers don’t want me dead. Not yet.

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….if I’m going to die today, it’s I want Rue to win

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Sick and disoriented, I’m able to to form only one thought: Peeta Mellark just saved my life.

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Remember, I tell myself. You’re the hunter now, not them.

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Once I’m on my feet, I realize escape might not be so simple.

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Panic begins to set in. I can’t stay here.

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Flight is essential.

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But I can’t let my fear show.

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Let the 74th Hunger Games begin, Cato. Let them begin for real.

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I’m going to. Going to win for the both of us.

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I want to do something, right here, right now, to shame them, to make them accountable, to show the Capitol that whatever they do or force us to do there is a part of every tribute they can’t own. Rue was more than a piece in their games. And so am I.

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“Good and safe. We won’t have to worry about her now.”

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I killed a boy whose name I don’t even know.

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The news sinks in. Two tributes can win this year. If they’re from the same district. Both can live. Both of us can win.

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Before I can stop myself I call out Peeta’s name.

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No thanks to me. All I’ve doneis managed not to kill Peeta.

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…for all I know I’m killing you

Peeta: Can you speed it up a little?

No. Shut up and eat your pears.

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“You’re not ggoing to die. I forbid it.”

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…he smiles as if he’d be happy to lie there gazing at me forever.

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“…they’re sugar berries. My mother makes jam from them. Haven’t you ever had them before?”

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“Who can’t lie, Peeta?”

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It’s strange to be so phyiscally close to someone who’s so distant.

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“Maybe I did it for myself, Peeta, did you ever think of that?

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I do not want to lose the boy with the bread

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No one has held me like this in such a long time…no one else’s arms have made me feel this safe.

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“You have a…remarkable memory.”

Peeta: I remember everything about you. You’re the one who wasn’t paying attention.

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I swallow hard and get the words out,”You don’t have much competition anywhere.” And this time it’s me who leans in.

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I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me.

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Instead of trying to wrestle his way free, his forefinger veers off and makes a deliberate X on the back off Cato’s hand.

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“Cato may win this thing yet.”

Peeta: Don’t you believe it.

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If he dies. I’ll never go home, not really. I’ll spend the rest of my life in this arena trying to think my way out.

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“One.” Maybe I’m wrong. “Two.” Maybe they don’t care if we both die. “Three.” It’s too late to change my mind.

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Sure enough, the minute the door closes behind us and the current stops, [Peeta] slumps to the floor unconscious. My fingers are still gripping the back of his jacket so tightly that when they take him away it tears leaving me with a fistful of black fabric.

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Petrified, I lunge for him, but I’m caught and thrust back into another room, and glass door seals between us. I pound the glass screaming my head off.

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I’m not sure, but I think his heart stops twice

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I also want to tell him how much I really miss him.

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Already the boy with the bread is slipping away frim me.

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I take his hand, holding it tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go.

WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This was a longy!!!!!!!!!!! Over 1k!!!!!!!!! Anyway……… what was your favorite quote?! TELL ME IN THE COMMENTS!