Winning means fame and fortune.

                         Losing means certain death.

                     The Hunger Games have begun…

Effie Trinket:

“Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!”

"They can't have desert, but you can!"

Haymitch Abernathy:

“Here’s some advice. Stay alive.”

“You’ve got about as much charm as a dead slug"

Claudius Templesmith

“Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!”


“Scores only matter if they’re very good, no one pays much attention to the bad or mediocre ones.”


“Katniss, the girl who was on fire”

Cinna & Katniss:

Cinna: “When you’re asked a question, find me, and answer it as honestly as possible.”

Katniss: “Even if what I think is horrible?”

Cinna: “Especially if what you think is horrible.”


“It’s not a fair comparison really. Gale and I were thrown together by a mutual need to survive. Peeta and I know the other’s survival means our own death.”

“I am not pretty. I am not beautiful. I am as radiant as the sun”.

“The more likable he is, the more deadly he is.”

"Panic begins to set in. I can’t stay here. Flight is essential.”…”But I can’t let my fear show”.

“Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true. Here is the place where I love you.”

"You don’t forget the face of the person who was your last hope"

"I don't want to lose the boy with the bread."

"District 12: Where you can starve to death in safety"

“Sometimes, when I clean a kill, I feed Buttercup the entrails. He has stopped hissing at me.

Entrails. No hissing. This is the closest we will ever come to love.”

Katniss & Peeta & Claudius Templesmith:

“If Peeta and I were both to die, or they thought we were....My fingers fumble with the pouch on my belt, freeing it. Peeta sees it and his hand clamps on my wrist. "No, I won't let you." "Trust me," I whisper. He holds my gaze for a long moment then lets go. I loosen the top of the pouch and pour a few spoonfuls of berries into his palm. Then I fill my own. "On the count of three?" Peeta leans down and kisses me once, very gently. "The count of three," he says. We stand, our backs pressed together, our empty hands locked tight. "Hold them out. I want everyone to see," he says. I spread out my fingers, and the dark berries glisten in the sun. I give Peeta's hand one last squeeze as a signal, as a good-bye, and we begin counting. "One." Maybe I'm wrong. "Two." Maybe they don't care if we both die. "Three!" It's too late to change my mind. I lift my hand to my mouth taking one last look at the world. The berries have just passed my lips when the trumpets begin to blare. The frantic voice of Claudius Templesmith shouts above them. "Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the 74th Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you - the tributes of District 12!”