“I doze and wake so many timesmy dreams reach over what is real,the real becomes my dreams.”

“another gash has openedin the center of myself.The farther that I travelfrom the things I know, the more I am certainI can only mend this widening woundby moving onto things I have not known.”

“I know why people die of hopelessness. It comes on like a thick blanket, covering your thoughts, your confidence, creeping into your mind and filling the corners. I lie in the dark, suffocating under horrible dispare, wishing I were dead. I sleep, then wake, then sleep. The sleep is filled with monstrous dreams that attack, cry out, and vanish, leaving me once more awake and staring into the darkness. Help me! My mind is screaming, but there is no one to hear.”

“Don't trip over haters, step over them”

“My SongSo many memories,and I'm still young.So many dreams, my song's just begun. Sometimes I hearmy private melody grow,then the sound vanishes,but returns, I now know. I've heard my heart break;wounded, I've felt alone,but slowly I learnedto thrive on my own.I want to keep learning, to depend my song;in whatever I work may my best self grow strong.It's still the morning,the green spring of my life.i'm starting my journey,family and friends at my side,my song inside, and love as my guide.My family wonderswhere I will go.I wonder too. I long to discover how to protect the earth, our home,hear world sisters and brothers, who feel so alone.Hearts and hands opento those close and those far,a great family circlewith peace our lodestar.No child should be hungry.All children should read,be healthy and safe,feel hope, learn to lead.It's still the morning,the spring of my lifeI'm starting my journey,family and friends at my side,my song inside,and love as my guide. I'm take wrong turnsand again lose my way.I'll search for wise answers, listen, study and pray.So many memories, and I'm still young.So many dreams; my own song has begun.I'll resist judging othersby their accents and skin,confront my life challenges, improve myself within.Heeding my song-for life's not easy or fair-I'll persist, be a lightresist the snare of despair. Mysteriously,I've grown to feel strong.I'm preparing to lead.I'm composing my song.It's still the morning,the spring of my life.I'm starting my journey, family and friends at my side,my song inside, and love as my guide.”

“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.”

“I know what blood poisoning is, Katniss," says Peeta. "Even if my mother isn't a healer."I'm jolted back in time, to another wound, another set of bandages. "You said that same thing to me in the first Hunger Games. Real or not real?""Real," he says. "And you risked your life getting the medicine that saved me?""Real." I shrug. "You were the reason I was alive to do it.”