Let the Seventy-forth Hunger Games begin, Cato, I think. Let them begin for real.

That the Careers have been better fed growing up is actually to their disadvantage,
because they don’t know how to be hungry. Not like Rue and I do.

You're still trying to protect me. Real or not real," he whispers.
"Real," I answer. "Because that's what you and I do, protect each other.

Winning will make you famous. Losing means certain death.

The Mockingjay lives.

I don’t know what the explosion did, but it damaged something deep and irreparable. Never mind. If I get home, I’ll be so stinking rich, I’ll be able to pay someone to do my hearing.