Remember, Heads High. Smiles. They're

Beauty That Arose Out Of Pain.

And It’s All My Fault, Gale. Because Of What I Did In The Arena. If I Had Just Killed Myself With Those Berries, None Of This Would’ve Happened. Peeta Could Have Come Home And Lived, And Everyone Else Would Have Been Safe, Too.” “safe To Do What?” He Says In A Gentler Tone. “starve? Work Like Slaves? Send Their Kids To The Reaping? You Haven’t Hurt People – You’ve Given Them An Opportunity. They Just Have To Be Brave Enough To Take It.

It Must Be Very Fragile, If A Handful Of Berries Can Bring It Down.

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.

It's Impossible To Be The Mockingjay. Impossible To Complete Even This One Sentence. Because Now I Know That Everything I Say Will Be Directly Taken Out On Peeta. Result In His Torture. But Not His Death, No Nothing So Merciful As That. Snow Will Ensure That His Life Is Much Worse Than Death.