Here are several images of different Hunger Games trilogy quotes (books and movies). I don’t own any of them, I just found them over the web.
“You love me. Real or not real?”I tell him, “Real.”
“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.”
“Finnick?” I say, “Maybe some pants?”He looks down at his legs as if noticing his outfit for the first time. Then he whips off his hospital gown leaving him in just his underwear. “Why? Do you find this” — he strikes a ridiculously provocative pose — “distracting?”I laugh. Boggs looks embarrassed and Finnick looks more like the guy I met at the Quarter Quell”
“Fire is catching! And if we burn, you burn with us!”
“I must have loved you a lot.”
“You’re a painter. You’re a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces.”
“Are you, are you coming to the tree?Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me.Strange things did happen here.No stranger would let it be if we met upAt midnight in the hanging tree.”
“I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there’s no relief in waking.”
“I raise my left arm and twist my neck down to rip off the pill on my sleeve. Instead my teeth sink into flesh. I yank my head back in confusion to find myself looking into Peeta’s eyes, only now they hold my gaze. Blood runs from the teeth marks on the hand he clamped over my nightlock.
“Oh, Peeta, Don’t make me sorry I restarted your heart.”
“Closing my eyes doesn’t help. Fire burns brighter in the darkness.”
“I knew you’d kiss me.”“How?” I say. Because I didn’t know myself.“Because I am in pain,” He say’s. “That’s the only way I get your attention.”
“She’s not here,” I tell him. Buttercup hisses again. “She’s not here. You can hiss all you like. You won’t find Prim.” At her name, he perks up. Raises his flattened ears. Begins to meow hopefully. “Get out!” He dodges the pillow I throw at him. “Go away! There’s nothing left for you here!” I start to shake, furious with him. “She’s not coming back! She’s never ever coming back here again!” I grab another pillow and get to my feet to improve my aim. Out of nowhere, the tears begin to pour down my cheeks. “She’s dead, you stupid cat. She’s dead.”
“I roll my eyes. “So when did I become so special? When they carted me off to the Capitol?”“No, about six months before that. Right after New Year’s. We were in the Hob, eating some slop of Greasy Sae’s. And Darius was teasing you about trading a rabbit for one of his kisses. And I realized…I minded.”
“But collective thinking is usually short-lived. We’re fickle, stupid beings with poor memories and a great gift for self-destruction.”
“Finnick!” Something between a shriek and a cry of joy. A lovely if somewhat bedraggled young woman–dark tangled hair, sea green eyes–runs toward us in nothing but a sheet. “Finnick!” And suddenly, it’s as if there’s no one in the world but these two, crashing through space to reach each other. They collide, enfold, lose their balance, and slam against a wall, where they stay. Clinging into one being. Indivisible.A pang of jealousy hits me. Not for either Finnick or Annie but for their certainty. No one seeing them could doubt their love.”
“Yes,” I whisper. The red blinking light on one of the cameras catches my eye. I know I’m being recorded. “Yes,” I say more forcefully. Everyone is drawing away from me—Gale, Cressida, the insects—giving me the stage. But I stay focused on the red light. “I want to tell the rebels that I am alive. That I’m right here in District Eight, where the Capitol has just bombed a hospital full of unarmed men, women, and children. There will be no survivors.” The shock I’ve been feeling begins to give way to fury. “I want to tell people that if you think for one second the Capitol will treat us fairly if there’s a cease-fire, you’re deluding yourself. Because you know who they are and what they do.” My hands go out automatically, as if to indicate the whole horror around me. “This is what they do! And we must fight back!”
“Is that why you hate me?” I ask.“Partly,” She admits. “Jealousy is certainly involved. I also think you’re a little hard to swallow. With your tacky romantic drama and your defender-of-the-helpless act. Only it isn’t an act, which makes you more unbearable. Please feel free to take this personally.”
“My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am seventeen years old. My home is District 12. I was in the Hunger Games. I escaped. The Capitol hates me……..”
“Oh, that I do know…Katniss will pick whoever she thinks she can’t survive without.”
“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 more worse than death.
“What’s wrong with her?” Plutarch says under his breath.
There’s something like a collective sigh of regret from that semicircle of people spread out before me. Because I know this now. Because there will never be a way for me to not know this again. Because, beyond the military disadvantage losing a entails, I am broken.
“Want a sugar cube”
“Don’t let him take you from me.”
“I’m not their slave,” the man mutters.“I am,” I say. “That’s why I killed Cato… and he killed Thresh… and he killed Clove… and she tried to kill me. It just goes around and around, and who wins? Not us. Not the districts. Always the capitol. But I’m tired of being a piece in their games.”
“Ladies and gentlemen…..”His voice is quiet, but mine rings through the room.“Let the Seventy-sixth Hunger Games begin!”