There's No Going Back. So We Might

Despite What I Feel For Peeta, This Is When I Accept Deep Down That He'll Never Come Back To Me. Or I'll Never Go Back To Him. I'll Die For My Trouble. And He'll Die Insane And Hating Me.

And Then, When He’s Been Underwater So Long I Feel Certain He’s Drowned, His Head Pops Up Right Next To Me And I Start. “don’t Do That,” I Say. “what? Come Up Or Stay Under?” He Says. “either. Neither. Whatever

Aim Higher In Case You Fall Short.

In Our World, I Rank Music Somewhere Between Hair Ribbons And Rainbows In Terms Of Usefulness.

I Don't Have A Talent, Unless You Count Hunting Illegally, Which They Don't. Or Maybe Singing, Which I Wouldn't Do For The Capitol In A Million Years. My Mother Tried To Interest Me In A Variety Of Suitable Alternatives From A List Effie Trinket Sent Her. Cooking, Flower Arranging, Playing The Flute. None Of Them Took, Although Prim Had A Knack For All Three. Finally Cinna Stepped In And Offered To Help Me Develop My Passion For Designing Clothes, Which Really Required Development Since It Was Non-existent.