“Bet I know a thing or two about your dove.” “Like what?” “Like she’s delightful to look at, swishes around in bright colors, and sings like a mockingjay. You love her. And oh, how she seems to love you. Except sometimes you wonder, because her plans don’t include you at all.” Something something, Coriolanus calling Lucy Gray "my girl" versus Haymitch calling Lenore Dove "my girl."













