The heat of the bread burned into my skin, but I clutched it tighter, clinging to life.

And it's not just that I don't want to be alone. It's him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.

An ability to look into the confusing mess of life and see things for what they are.

Look into the confusing mess of life and see things for what they really are.

Sometimes things happen to people and they're not equipped to deal with them.

That what I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that.