“You know what Hans told me last week?" she says as I open the door of my fitting room. "He told me to write down a list of everything I wanted to say about that women-and then tear it up. He said I'd feel a sense of freedom.""Oh right," I say interestedly. "So what happened?" "I wrote it all down," says Laurel. "And then I mailed it to her!”

“Sometimes he wrote equations, or musical notation, sometimes he wrote in Latin; he refused to tell her what it was about. "Nothing," he said. "I have nothing important or original to say, yet I feel compelled to express myself, so I just write it down and let it go.”

“What do you want to want to be, anyway?""I don't know; I guess what I want to be is a good Catholic.""What you should say"--he told me--"what you should say is that you want to be a saint.”

“Clara,” he says quietly. “I think it’s time you told me about what happened in Italy.”

“And what happens then?When?After you're dead.Dont nothing happen. You're dead.You told me once you believed in God.The old man waved his hand. Maybe, he said. I got no reason to think he believes in me. Oh I'd like to see him for a minute if I could.What would you say to him?Well, I think I'd just tell him. I'd say: Wait a minute. Wait just one minute before you start in on me. Before you say anything, there's just one thing I'd like to know. And he'll say: what's that? And then I'm goin to ast him: What did you have me in that crapgame down there for anyway? I couldnt put any part of it together.Suttree smiled. What do you think he'll say?The ragpicker spat and wiped his mouth. I dont believe he can answer it. I dont believe there is an answer. ”

“You know what my mother said to me when she came to say good-bye, as if to cheer me up, she says maybe District Twelve will finally have a winner. Then I realized she didn't mean me, she meant you!" bursts out Peeta."Oh, she meant you," I say with a wave of dismissal."She said, 'She's a survivor, that one.' She is," says Peeta.That pulls me up short. Did his mother really say that about me? Did she rate me over her son? I see the pain in Peeta's eyes and know he isn't lying.Suddenly I'm behind the bakery and I can feel the chill of the rain running down my back, the hollowness in my belly. I sound eleven years old when I speak. "But only because someone helped me.”