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"You'd have thought we planned it," says Peeta, giving me just the hint of a smile."Didn't you?" asks Portia. Her fingers press her eyelids closed as if she's warding off a very bright light."No," I say looking at Peeta with a new sense of apreciation. "Neither of us even knew what we were going to do before we went in.""And Haymitch?" says Peeta. "We decided we don't want any other allies in the arena.""Good. Then I won't be responsible for you killing off any of my friends with your stupidity," he says."
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"You see a wile, you thwart. Am I right?"

"So we get a plan," I said. "Any suggestions?""Blow up the building," Kincaid said without looking up. "That works good for vampires. Then soak what's left in gasoline. Set it on fire. Then blow it all up again.""For future reference, I was sort of hoping for a suggestion that didn't sound like it came from that Bolshevik Muppet with all the dynamite."

"A general is like a writer who wants to write a play, or a book, but whom the book itself, with the unexpected options that it reveals at one point, the impasse it presents at another, causes to deviate extensively from his preconceived plan."

"Fish rule the waters, but can be caught using worms. Birds rule the air, but can be caught using grain."

"When a team is in possession of the ball, but cannot advance its agenda any further, they have to 'drop back and punt.' Doing this requires that they step back to regroup, reassess, and reorganize their strategy in pursuit of winning the game. When you are faced with change and apply this regrouping process, you are better equipped to make decisions for your next steps. Rather than settling back into old habits and doing what you've always done, create something fresh, new, and awesome."

"A hunter who is going to shoot an antelope does not waste his bullets on the dog."
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"I realize, for the first time, how very lonely I've been in the arena. How comforting the presence of another human being can be."


"But it's not safe and I can feel him slipping away, so I just get out one more sentence. "Stay with me." As the tendrils of sleep syrup pull me down, I hear him whisper a word back but I don't catch it."


"What have the nibblers ever done for you?"The breeze ruffled her hair, pushing it back from her face, giving him a clear shot of her eyes. They were asking for an answer. Needing to know if she could count on him."They saved your life," he said.And for just a moment, Luxa's face softened and she smiled."


"Are you afraid now?" said Gregor."At times," she admitted. "But it is no worse than if I were in Regalia. You see, I was tired of constant fear, so I made a decision. Everyday when I wake I tell myself it will be my last. If you are not trying to hold on to time, you are not so afraid of losing it."Gregor thought this was the single saddest thing anyone had ever said to him. He couldn't answer."And then, if you make it to bedtime, you feel the joy of cheating death out of one more day," she said. "Do you see?"


"I'll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I'm afraid it could be taken away."


"The beauty of this idea is that my decision to keep Peeta alive at the expense of my own life is itself an act of defiance. A refusal to play the Hunger Games by the Capitol's rules. My private agenda dovetails completely with my public one. And if I really could save Peeta... in terms of a revolution, this would be ideal. Because I will be more valuable dead. They can turn me into some kind of martyr for the cause and paint my face on banners, and it will do more to rally people than anything I could do if I was living. But Peeta would be more valuable alive, and tragic, because he will be able to turn his pain into words that will transform people."


"Isn't it strange that I know you'd risk your life to save mine, but I don't even know what your favorite color is?"
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