I’m In Pain. That’s The

Look, If You Wanted To Be Babied You Should Have Asked Peeta.

I Swear If You Cry, I'll Kill You Here And Now.' Cinna Just Smiles. 'had A Damp Morning?' 'you Could Wring Me Out.' I Reply

Her Name's Prim. She's Just Twelve. And I Love Her More Than Anything.

That It's No Good Loving Me Because I'm Never Going To Get Married Anyway And He'd Just End Up Hating Me Later Instead Of Sooner.

Peeta Crouches Down On The Other Side Of Her And Strokes Her Hair. When He Begins To Speak In A Soft Voice, It Seems Almost Nonsensical, But The Words Aren’t For Me. “with My Paint Box At Home, I Can Make Every Color Imaginable. Pink. As Pale As A Baby’s Skin. Or As Deep As Rhubarb. Green Like Spring Grass. Blue That Shimmers Like Ice On Water.