I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there’s no relief in waking. Better not give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself together as it does to fall apart.
She was never gunna make it, so.
F i n n i c k Odair, right?
"Mags was his mentor and basically raised him. If he’s trying to protect her in any way, it exposes him.”
“Want a sugar cube? They’re supposed to be for the horses, but who cares? They’ve got years to eat sugar, whereas you and I … well, if we see something sweet we better grab it quick. You’re absolutely terrifying me in that get-up. What happened to the pretty little-girl dresses?”
it's as if i'm finnick, watching images of my life flash by.
By the time we pull ourselves together, I’m thinking that maybe Finnick Odair is all right. At least not as vain or self-important as I’d thought. Not so bad at all, really.