“I could be shot on a daily basis for hunting, but the appetite of those in charge protect me.”

“No more fear of hunger. A new kind of freedom. But what then ... what? What would my life be like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I'm not really sure who I am, what my identity is. The idea scares me some.”

“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.”

“So I thought if I stopped being so, you know, wounded, we could take a shot at just being friends. - Peeta Mellark”

“Maybe everyone is just trying to protect me by lying to me. I don't care. I'm sick of people lying to me for my own good.”

“Tomorrow's a hunting day," I say. "I won't be much of a help with that," Peeta says. "I've never hunted before.""I'll kill and you cook," I say. "And you can always gather.""I wish there was some sort of bread bush out there," says Peeta.”

“Peeta bakes. I hunt. Haymitch drinks until the liquor runs out.”