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I think this one where she volunteers for her sister Prim is the best one

here:

To the everlasting credit of the people of district 12, not one person claps. Not even the ones holding the betting slips, the ones who are usually beyond caring. Possibly because they knew me from the hob, or knew my father, or have encountered Prim, who no one can help loving. So instead of acknowledging applause, I stand there unmoving while they take part in the boldest form of dissent they can manage. Silence. Which says we do not agree. We do not condone. All of this is wrong.

Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of district 12 as a place that cares about me. But a shift has occurred since I stepped up to take Prim's place, and now it seems I have become someone precious. At first one, then another, then almost every member of the crowd touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and holds it out to me. It is and old and rarely used gesture of our district, and occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love.

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14y ago

What else can I help you with?