“But I have to confess, I'm glad you two had at least a few months of happiness together."I'm not glad," says Peeta. "I wish we had waited until the whole thing was done officially."This takes even Caesar aback. "Surely even a brief time is better than no time?"Maybe I'd think that, too, Caesar," says Peeta bitterly, "If it weren't for the baby.”

“Maybe I'd think that, too, Caesar," says Petta bitterly, "if it weren't for the baby."There. He's done it again.”

“Caesar: “Handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what’s her name?”Peeta: “Well, there is this one girl. I’ve had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I’m pretty sure she didn’t know I was alive until the reaping.”Caesar: “She have another fellow?”Peeta: “I don’t know, but a lot of boys like her.”Caesar: “So, here’s what you do. You win, you go home. She can’t turn you down then, eh?”Peeta: “I don’t think it’s going to work out. Winning…won’t help in my case”Caesar: “Why ever not?”Peeta: “Because…because…she came here with me.”

“So, here’s what you do. You win, you go home. She can’t turn you down then, eh?” says Caesar encouragingly. “I don’t think it’s going to work out. Winning…won’t help in my case,” says Peeta. “Why ever not?” says Caesar, mystified. Peeta blushes beet red and stammers out. “Because…because…she came here with me.”

“It costs your life,” says Caesar.“Oh, no. It costs a lot more than your life. To murder innocent people?” says Peeta. “It costs everything you are.”

“You can render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's, but if you don't keep from Caesar that which is yours, Caesar will take some, and than take some more, and if you don't put a stop to it, though you won't lose everything - you can't lose everything; there's things he can't take, at least one or two - a time will soon come when you'll think you've lost everything, when you'll think all is Caesar's, and by then you'll be too weak to take what's yours back, too tired to remember what was yours to begin with, and you'll end up, perversely, scheming for his leavings and, even more perversely, grateful when you get them.”