“Are Cady and O'Neill Ever going to get together?" Those amber eyes weighed me heavily, and then he answered my question with a question. "Do you think they should?" "Well I said, "they've been through an awful lot together. And if there's only one book left, it kind of seems like they're running out of time”

“So what were you doing there?”  Here’s the frustrating thing about Nate, one of those things that happy memories conveniently glossed over.  A lot of times, you had to ask him a question more than once to get a straight answer.  He loved to answer questions you’d never asked, or to answer a question with another question.   “Do I really have to answer that, Kyrie?” See? “Don’t you trust me?”  See?!”

“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.”

“They've been through every kind of hell together. What else do you suppose love is?”

“I have questions.""I should have known you've only been keeping me around for answers.""Well, that and your kisses. Anyone ever tell you you're an incredible kisser?”

“The only question is whether they're going to get caught, and so far, the answer's been 'no.' Things are chaotic. No one knows exactly what's going on, and the people carrying out the orders aren't the ones giving them. As long as no one ever gives the order that says 'let those people die, they don't matter,' nothing illegal is being done.”