“I can feel Peeta press his forehead into my temple and he asks, 'So now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?' I turn into him. 'Put you somewhere you can't get hurt.”

“Maybe . . . because for the first time . . . there was a chance I could keep him,” I say.“So now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?”“Put you somewhere you can't get hurt.”And when he kisses me, people in the room actually sigh.”

“There are so many people put there who will tell you that you can't. What you've got to do is turn around and say "Watch me.”

“When did you get so smart?"He tapped his forehead. "Brain transplant. They put in a whale's. I'm passing all my classes with my eyes closed now, but I just can't get over this craving for krill." He shrugged. "And I feel sorry for the whale that got my brain. Probably swimming around Florida now trying to catch glimpses of girls in bikinis.”

“Shane: "You've got to be feeling like hitting someone, and you know I like it. Smack me around. Fuck me. Get it out of your system."Ben: "You think that's what we do? Just that?"No, Shane wanted to say. You break me apart and put me back together right, so everything fits; everything’s smooth. You put your hands on me , and you hurt me, but you do it so fucking carefully. Trust you. Love you. Need you.”

“I was going to punch the shit out him," he told me. I could feel his voice vibrating against my skin. "Luke. I didn't though. You know why?"I'd wondered about that."You asked me not to. Last summer. Remember? You gave me that note. 'Stop punching people.' It's the only thing you've ever asked me to do. I can do that much for you. I think I'd do anything for you.”