Hunger Games Book 1 Quotes Novels & Stories

I felt it but I was confused as to what happened. “You know…” Gamma Oliver sounded like he was leaning forward from the back. “Maybe keep that talk down when around Zayle.” “What talk?” “That you don’t eat. Or you know…like it’s normal.” Looking at the phone for a second, I wondered if he understood what he was saying. “Gamma, have you ever gone hungry?” My question was met by a long pause. “No, Riley, I haven’t.” “Have you ever been so desperate for food or water, for a roof over your head or a simple blanket to keep the snow off your shoulders that you would give your body up?”

Turning to Hazel, I look her firmly in the eyes and say, "Okay, we will go hunting together. But the moment I tell you to run, you must listen to me without hesitation. If at any point our lives are in immediate danger, you must prioritize saving yourself first." She hesitates slightly, her brow furrowing as she studies my face, seeming unsure if she can trust my commands. She doesn't outright refuse or kick against it, but her reluctance is evident. I realize, perhaps too late, that I may be making the wrong move. If I want to keep Hazel safe, she shouldn't be coming with me on these dangerous hunts. Yet, just as she previously mentioned, she's determined not to listen to me easily, stubbor

“Bold words. Dangerous ones for someone whose head should’ve been on a stake last week.” “But it’s not. And as long as I’m alive, there’s hope for my freedom. Death is the least of my fears,” I say, my gaze unflinching. Katniss sobers, her smug expression returning. “Do you know why people call Fae foolish creatures?” I say nothing, and she takes that as her cue to continue.

“You keep pressing. Quietly. You already shook the hive, Blackwood. Don’t stick your hand in too fast or they’ll sting.” “That’s not an answer.” “It’s the only one you’ll get from me while I’m hungry,” he said, grabbing his own tray and finally eating something that belonged to him. “Patience isn’t sexy, but it’s smart.” Patience. My least favorite word. I tried to eat, but every bite felt rotten. My stomach wasn’t interested in food, only in knots. And all the while, Jace’s stare burned across the room like wildfire. By the time the bell rang, I was more drained than if I hadn’t slept at all.

I had beaten the man close to death, then sat there covered in his blood waiting for the guards to take me away. The small slot in the cell door opened and a tray of garbage was pushed through. I walked over and took the tray and slipped a small piece of paper to the guard. “Deliver this for me and my man will give you the amount we discussed,” I said to the guard. He didn’t respond, but he took the paper and left. I looked at the disgusting food on the tray and my stomach turned. I had to keep my strength though, so I ate it. It was the vilest thing I had ever eaten. Once I was done I pushed the tray back through the hole in the door and laid back on the cot. Her face came back into my mind

“She made me kneel by the stove. Said, if I wanted food so badly, I should learn to respect it. She pressed a metal spoon from the fire against my skin. I screamed my heart out, but she didn’t stop.” Jacob’s hands tightened into fists. I heard the faint crack of his knuckles. I could feel his anger rising behind me, but I couldn’t say anything. I was barely keeping myself together. “She said scars teach obedience,” I whispered. “That hunger was punishment for being born wrong.” My chest tightened, and a quiet sob escaped before I could stop it. I pressed a hand to my ribs, trying to steady myself. “They burned you for hunger?” Jacob’s voice came out low and broken.

She closed her eyes, the cold seeping deeper, the hunger a constant companion. Then her ears caught a sound first, like a distant promise—slow, deliberate footsteps echoing down the damp corridor. Her heart stuttered. She thought it was Odessa again, bringing the daily torment disguised as food. Today, her pride was gone and it didn’t matter. If the Beta spat in the porridge, poured dirt into it, or kicked it across the floor, Scarlett would still eat. She would crawl through the bars and lick the stone clean if that was what it took.

We're trained enough. I boldly faced my Coach and said, "I want that ruthless Ambassador Hugo Cassidy to go. I want our grainfield to grow back from being burned, I want the entire nation to glow. I want light. We want light but they gave us fire so we will keep it burning! The ashes are the signs... of their poor governance." "Be careful to those tributes from A to Z. Stick with the G's. We don't know the final round." He finally inserted the last wheat leaf in my bun hair.

"Don't make me punch you. Again." He walked away. Which was good, because had he stayed any longer, he'd have seen the sweat pooling around my temples, the tremors that wracked my body, and the twitching hand. With a curse, I stomped back into the pantry, grabbed an entire bag of marshmallows, and dug in. END OF BOOK ONE: CAPTURE

When she saw me approach, she only eyed me long enough to see what I'd scored, before returning to a book she must have snuck into one of the baskets from earlier. The Hunger Games. I knew the premise enough to know it was part of an extensive challenge between morals and survival that seemed to have her immersed enough to focus exclusively on the writing beneath her gaze. But while I began to skin and prepare dinner, I realized she was using it as a distraction as she didn't do as much as flip a page. She was simply debating breaking our silence or remaining obstinate.