They'll either want to kill you, kiss you, or be you.

We just saw Finnick Odair in his underwear.

We fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice.

Of course you are. The tributes were necessary to the Games, too. Until they weren't," I say. "And then we were very disposable - right, Plutarch?

The question is, what are you going to do?"
It turns out the question that's been eating away at me has only ever had one possible answer. But it took Peeta's ploy for me to recognize it.
What am I going to do?
I take a deep breath. My arms rise slightly - as if recalling the black-and-white wings Cinna gave me - then come to rest at my sides.
"I'm going to be the Mockingjay.

Certos passos você tem de dar sozinho.