"With all my knowledge and intrusion, I could never entirely predict you. I can feed the caterpillar, and I can whisper through the chrysalis, but… What hatches, follows its own nature and is beyond me."
All I want to do is collapse on my metal plate. But I can hardly do that after what I just witnessed. I must be strong. I owe it to Cinna, who risked everything by undermining President Snow and turning my bridal silk into mockingjay plumage. And I owe it to the rebels who, emboldened by Cinna’s example, might be fighting to bring down the Capitol at this moment. My refusal to play the Games on the Capitol’s terms is to be my last act of rebellion.
So I grit my teeth and will myself to be a player.
You wash up on a deserted island alone. Sitting on the sand is a box. What is in that box? Just say the first answer that comes into your mind.