Whatever It Takes To Break You.

Swathed In Silk, I Feel Like A Caterpillar In A Cocoon Awaiting Metamorphosis. I Always Supposed That To Be A Peaceful Condition. At First It Is. But As I Journey Into The Night, I Feel More And More Trapped, Suffocated By The Slippery Bindings, Unable To Emerge Until I Have Transformed Into Something Of Beauty. I Squirm, Trying To Shed My Ruined Body And Unlock The Secret To Growing Flawless Wings. Despite Enormous Effort, I Remain A Hideous Creature, Fired Into My Current Form By The Blast From The Bombs.

Frankly, Our Ancestors Don't Seem Much To Brag About. I Mean, Look At The State They Left Us In, With The Wars, The Broken Planet. Clearly, They Didn't Care About What Would Happen To The People Who Came After Them.

Beauty That Arose Out Of Pain.

Four People Wheel Out A Huge Wedding Cake From A Side Room. Most Of The Guests Back Up, Making Way For This Rarity, This Dazzling Creation With Blue-green, White-tipped Icing Waves Swimming With Fish And Sailboats, Seals And Sea Flowers. But I Push My Way Through The Crowd To Confirm What I Knew At First Sight. As Surely As The Embroidery Stitches In Annie's Gown Were Done By Cinna's Hand, The Frosted Flowers On The Cake Were Done By Peeta's.

What Is The Worst Pain? To Me, It's Always The Pain That Is Present.