“Sorry excuses for hunters and friends. Both of us.”

“Ally.' He said slowly, tasting it. "Friend, lover, target, hunter, victor, mutt, fiancee, enemy. I'll add it to the list of words I use to try to figure you out.”

“Ally." Peeta says the words slowly, tasting it. "Friend. Lover. Victor. Enemy. Fiancee. Target. Mutt. Neighbor. Hunter. Tribute. Ally. I'll add it to the list of words I use to try to figure you out. The problem is, I can't tell what's real anymore, and what's made up.”

“And she's my fiancee. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us.”

“It's my new best friend, Claudius Templesmith, and as I expected it, he's inviting us to a feast.”

“Oh, Peeta, Don't make me sorry I restarted your heart.”

“Beware, Underlanders, time hangs by a thread.The hunters are hunted, white water runs red.The Gnawers will strike to extinguish the rest.The hope of the hopeless resides in a quest.An Overland warrior, a son of the sun,May bring us back light, he may bring us back none.But gather your neighbors and follow his callOr rats will most surely devour us all.Two over, two under, of royal descent,Two flyers, two crawlers, two spinners assent.One gnawer beside and one lost up ahead.And eight will be left when we count up the dead.The last who will die must decide where he stands.The fate of the eight is contained in his hands.So bid him take care, bid him look where he leaps,As life may be death and death life again reaps.”