“I’ll tell them how I survive it. I’ll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in things because I’m afraid it could be taken away. That’s when I make a list in my head of every act of goodness I’ve seen someone do. It’s like a game. Repetitive. Even a little tedious after more than twenty years. But there are much worse games to play.”
The bird, the pin, the song, the berries, the watch, the cracker, the dress that burst into flames. I am the mockingjay. The one that survived despite the Capitol’s plans. The symbol of the rebellion.
Peeta’s the good one, the likable one. He can make people believe anything. I’m the one who shuts up and sits back and lets him do as much of the talking as possible.
Some’ll laugh and some just sit and cry
But you just sit down there and you wonder why
The Mockingjay Deal was mostly carried out, with one significant exception.
I stare in the mirror as I try to remember who I am and who I am not.