if i ever stop reblogging this assume I am dead
remember when mockingjay was a profound piece of literature that reflected the realism of war and post-war rebuilding that symbolized the truth about every war, that life can go on AND will go on, but people talk shit about it because it hurts to read and we want to ignore it but we can’t
welcome to the real world
Mockingjay is one of the biggest reasons why I love The Hunger Games. That book is flawless to me. It’s real, it’s gritty, and it’s unapologetic. This isn’t a fairy tale, it’s real life. Then at the end of everything, all the sadness and loss, what is the one feeling that comes out as a result? Hope.
Needle was Winterfell’s grey walls and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan’s stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow’s smile. (inspiration)
In case you were having a bad day…..