Grover Underwood Quotes

Why can't you place a blessing like that on us?" I asked. "It only works on wild animals." "So it would only affect Percy," Annabeth reasoned. "Hey!" I protested.

You're a stalker with hooves." "I am not! I followed her to the Big House and hid in a bush and watched the whole thing.

He was slumped over, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. I shook his furry hip, thinking, No! Even if you are half barnyard animal, you're my best friend and I don't want you to die!

You're Dionysus," I said. "The god of wine." Mr. D rolled his eyes. "What do they say these days, Grover? Do the children say 'Well duh!'?" Y-yes, Mr. D." Then, well, duh! Percy Jackson. Did you think I was Aphrodite, perhaps?" You're a god." Yes, child." A god. You.

Meat!" he said scornfully. "I'm a vegetarian." You eat cheese enchiladas and aluminum cans," I reminded him. Those are vegetables.

When I got across, I looked back and saw Tyson giving Grover a piggyback ride (or was it a goatyback ride?).

Hey, can I see that sword you were using?" I showed him Riptide, and explained how it turned from a pen into a sword just by uncapping it. "Cool! Does it ever run out of ink?" "Um, well, I don't actually write with it." "Are you really the son of Poseidon?" "Well, yeah." "Can you surf really well, then?" I looked at Grover, who was trying hard not to laugh. "Jeez, Nico," I said. "I've never really tried." He went on asking questions. Did I fight a lot with Thalia, since she was a daughter of Zeus? (I didn't answer that one.) If Annabeth's mother was Athena, the goddess of wisdom, then why didn't Annabeth know better than to fall off a cliff? (I tried not to strangle Nico for asking that one.) Was Annabeth my girlfriend? (At this point, I was ready to stick the kid in a meat-flavored sack and throw him to the wolves.)

Percy," Grover said, "the gods really don't appreciate people sitting in their thrones. I mean like turn-you-into-a-pile-of-ashes don't appreciate it.

Hoover Dam," Thalia said. "It's huge." We stood at the river's edge, looking up at a curve of concrete that loomed between the cliffs. People were walking along the top of the dam. They were so tiny they looked like fleas. The naiads had left with a lot of grumbling—not in words I could understand, but it was obvious they hated this dam blocking up their nice river. Our canoes floated back downstream, swirling in the wake from the dam's discharge vents. "Seven hundred feet tall," I said. "Built in the 1930s." "Five million cubic acres of water," Thalia said. Graver sighed. "Largest construction project in the United States." Zoe stared at us. "How do you know all that?" "Annabeth," I said. "She liked architecture." "She was nuts about monuments," Thalia said. "Spouted facts all the time." Grover sniffled. "So annoying." "I wish she were here," I said.

But how did you know where we were?" Annabeth asked. Advanced planning, my dear. I figured you would wash up near Miami if you made it out of the Sea of Monsters alive. Almost everything strange washes up near Miami.

Eternity with Artemis?" He heaved a big sigh. Thalia rolled her eyes. "You satyrs. You're all in love with Artemis. Don't you get that she'll never love you back?" "But she's so…into nature," Grover swooned. "You're nuts," said Thalia. "Nuts and berries," Grover said dreamily. "Yeah.

But I've never even been to Olympus! Zeus is crazy!" Chiron and Grover glanced nervously at the sky. The clouds didn't seem to be parting around us, as Grover had promised. They were rolling straight over our valley, sealing us in like a coffin lid. Er, Percy ...?" Grover said. "We don't use the c-word to describe the Lord of the Sky.

Now, if you have never been hit by a flying burrito, count yourself lucky. In terms of deadly projectiles, it's right up there with grenades and cannonballs.

Grover Underwood of the satyrs!" Dionysus called. Grover came forward nervously. "Oh, stop chewing your shirt," Dionysus chided. "Honestly, I'm not going to blast you. For your bravery and sacrifice, blah, blah, blah, and since we have an unfortunate vacancy, the gods have seen fit to name you a member of the Council of Cloven Elders." Grover collapsed on the spot. "Oh, wonderful," Dionysus sighed, as several naiads came forward to help Grover. "Well, when he wakes up, someone tell him that he will no longer be an outcast, and that all satyrs, naiads, and other spirits of nature will henceforth treat him as a lord of the Wild, with all rights, privileges, and honors, blah, blah, blah. Now please, drag him off before he wakes up and starts groveling." "FOOOOOD," Grover moaned, as the nature spirits carried him away. I figured he'd be okay. He would wake up as a lord of the Wild with a bunch of beautiful naiads taking care of him. Life could be worse.

Grover wore his fake feet and his pants to pass as human. He wore a green rasta-style cap, because when it rained his curly hair flattened and you could just see the tips of his horns. His bright orange backpack was full of scrap metal and apples to snack on. In his pocket was a set of reed pipes his daddy goat had carved for him, even though he only knew two songs: Mozart's Piano Concerto no. 12 and Hilary Duff's "So Yesterday," both of which sounded pretty bad on reed pipes.

That's us," he said. "Those five nuts right there." "Which one is me?" I asked. "The little deformed one," Zoe suggested. "Oh, shut up.

He gave me the brochure. It was about the Hunters of Artemis. The front read, A WISE CHOICE FOR YOUR FUTURE! Inside were pictures of young maidens doing hunter stuff, chasing monsters, shooting bows. There were captions like: HEALTH BENEFITS: IMMORTALITY AND WHAT IT MEANS FOR YOU! and A BOY-FREE TOMORROW! "I found that in Annabeth's backpack," Grover said. I stared at him. "I don't understand." "Well, it seems to me… maybe Annabeth was thinking about joining." I'd like to say I took the news well. The truth was, I wanted to strangle the Hunters of Artemis one eternal maiden at a time.

Remake the wild, a little at a time, each in your own corner of the world. You cannot wait for anyone else, even a god, to do that for you.

The god of wine looked around at the assembled crowd. “Miss me?” The satyrs fell over themselves nodding and bowing. “Oh, yes, very much, sire!” “Well, I did not miss this place!” Dionysus snapped. “I bear bad news, my friends. Evil news. The minor gods are changing sides. Morpheus has gone over to the enemy. Hecate, Janus, and Nemesis, as well. Zeus knows how many more.” Thunder rumbled in the distance. “Strike that,” Dionysus said. “Even Zeus doesn’t know.

Grover and Nico came back from their walk, and Grover helped me fix up my wounded arm. "It's green!" Nico said with delight.

Grover: It’s a very sweet love story. I get misty-eyed every time I play it. So does Percy, but I think that’s because he’s laughing at me.

Grover started to sniffle and I figured if I didn't cheer him up he'd either start bawling or chewing up my mattress. He tends to eat household objects whenever he gets upset.

Dancing?' Annabeth asked. Thalia nodded. She cocked her ear to the music and made a face. 'Ugh. Who chose Jesse McCartney?' Grover looked hurt. 'I did.

Let us find the dam snack bar," Zoe said. "We should eat while we can." Grover cracked a smile. "The dam snack bar?" Zoe blinked. "Yes. What is funny?" "Nothing," Grover said, trying to keep a straight face. "I could use some dam french fries." Even Thalia smiled at that. "And I need to use the dam restroom." Maybe it was the fact that we were so tired and strung out emotionally, but I started cracking up, and Thalia and Grover joined in, while Zoe just looked at us. "I do not understand." "I want to use the dam water fountain," Grover said. "And…" Thalia tried to catch her breath. "I want to buy a dam T-shirt." I busted up, and I probably would've kept laughing all day, but then I heard a noise: "Moooo." The smile melted off my face. I wondered if the noise was just in my head, but Grover had stopped laughing too. He was looking around, confused. "Did I just hear a cow?" "A dam cow?" Thalia laughed.

Grover!" I yelled up. "You can drop me now, but don't worry. I have a - " Grover dropped me. Honestly, what sort of protector just drops you into a fire when you tell him it's okay to drop you into a fire?

Satyrs aren't dryads, but we have roots, too. Camp Half Blood is mine.

Piper: it looks like we have hole. Percy: Yeah we've got a dam hole! (LOL-ing) Piper: What! Percy: Inside joke. (still LOL-ing) Piper: Whatever.

Grover, stop eating your seat belt. You're setting a bad example.

Grover was almost as good as Piper McLean at procuring luxury vehicles.

Grover cradled his laurel sapling in his hands. "Well...sure good to be together again. Arguing. Almost dying. Abject terror. Oh, look. It's our floor.

A note from Annabeth.” Piper shook her head in amazement. “I don’t see how that’s possible, but if it is—” “She’s alive,” Leo said. “Thank the gods and pass the hot sauce.” Frank frowned. “What does that mean?” Leo wiped the chip crumbs off his face. “It means pass the hot sauce, Zhang. I’m still hungry.” Frank slid over a jar of salsa. “I can’t believe Reyna would try to find us. It’s taboo, coming to the ancient lands. She’ll be stripped of her praetorship.” “If she lives,” Hazel said. “It was hard enough for us to make it this far with seven demigods and a warship.” “And me.” Coach Hedge belched. “Don’t forget, cupcake, you got the satyr advantage.” Jason had to smile. Coach Hedge could be pretty ridiculous, but Jason was glad he’d come along. He thought about the satyr he’d seen in his dream—Grover Underwood. He couldn’t imagine a satyr more different from Coach Hedge, but they both seemed brave in their own way.

I stared at him. “You’re scared of bunnies?” “Blah-hah-hah! They’re big bullies. Always stealing celery from defenseless satyrs!” Thalia coughed.

Annabeth and Grover helped me search the woods for hours, but there was no sign of Nico di Angelo. “We have to tell Chiron,” Annabeth said, out of breath. “No,” I said. She and Grover both stared at me.

Sad to say, in my four-thousand-plus years, the times I'd felt most at home had all happened during the past few months: at Camp Half-Blood, sharing a cabin with my demigod children; at the Waystation with Emma, Jo, Georgina, Leo and Calypso, all of us sitting around the kitchen table chopping vegetables from the garden for dinner; at the Cistern in Palm Springs with Meg, Grover, Mellie, Coach Hedge and a prickly assortment of cactus dryads; and now at Camp Jupiter, where the anxious, grief-stricken Romans, despite their many problems, despite the fact that I brought misery and disaster wherever I went, had welcomed me with respect, a room above their coffee shop and some lovely bed linen to wear. These places were homes. Whether I deserved to be part of them or not - that was a different question.

That’s us,” he said. “Those five little nuts right there.” “Which one is me?” I asked. “The little deformed one,” Zoë suggested. “Oh, shut up.

Grover told me he could dissolve the empathy link between us, now that we were face to face, but I told him I'd just as soon keep it if that was okay with him. He put down his reed pipes and stared at me. 'But, if I get in trouble again, you'll be in danger, Percy! You could die!' 'If you get in trouble again, I want to know about it. And I'll come help you again, G-man. I wouldn't have it any other way.

My old granny goat used to say, “Two cans a day keep the monsters away.” Lots of minerals, very filling, and the texture is wonderful. Really, what’s not to like? I can’t help it if human teeth aren’t built for heavy-duty dining

Sir, I...I can't fail in my duties again." Grover's voice was choked with emotion. "You know what that would mean." "You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly.

He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don’t let that fool you. You should’ve seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.

I felt like my heart was being ripped in two. They had both been with me through so much. I remembered Grover dimb-bombing Medusa in the statue garden, and Annabeth saving us from Cerberus; we'd survived Hephaestus's Waterland ride, the St. Louis Arch, the Lotus Casino. I had spent thousands of miles worried that I'd be betrayed by a friend, but these friends would never do that. They had done nothing but save me, over and over, and now they wanted to sacrifice their lives for my mom.

Grover blushed right down to his Adam’s apple. ‘Look, Percy, the truth is, I – I kind of have to protect you.’I stared at him. All year long, I’d gotten in fights keeping bullies away from him. I’d lost sleep worrying that he’d get beaten up next year without me. And here he was acting like he was the one who defended me

If you could design a new structure for Camp Half-Blood what would it be? Annabeth: I’m glad you asked. We seriously need a temple. Here we are, children of the Greek gods, and we don’t even have a monument to our parents. I’d put it on the hill just south of Half-Blood Hill, and I’d design it so that every morning the rising sun would shine through its windows and make a different god’s emblem on the floor: like one day an eagle, the next an owl. It would have statues for all the gods, of course, and golden braziers for burnt offerings. I’d design it with perfect acoustics, like Carnegie Hall, so we could have lyre and reed pipe concerts there. I could go on and on, but you probably get the idea. Chiron says we’d have to sell four million truckloads of strawberries to pay for a project like that, but I think it would be worth it. Aside from your mom, who do you think is the wisest god or goddess on the Olympian Council? Annabeth: Wow, let me think . . . um. The thing is, the Olympians aren’t exactly known for wisdom, and I mean that with the greatest possible respect. Zeus is wise in his own way. I mean he’s kept the family together for four thousand years, and that’s not easy. Hermes is clever. He even fooled Apollo once by stealing his cattle, and Apollo is no slouch. I’ve always admired Artemis, too. She doesn’t compromise her beliefs. She just does her own thing and doesn’t spend a lot of time arguing with the other gods on the council. She spends more time in the mortal world than most gods, too, so she understands what’s going on. She doesn’t understand guys, though. I guess nobody’s perfect. Of all your Camp Half-Blood friends, who would you most like to have with you in battle? Annabeth: Oh, Percy. No contest. I mean, sure he can be annoying, but he’s dependable. He’s brave and he’s a good fighter. Normally, as long as I’m telling him what to do, he wins in a fight. You’ve been known to call Percy “Seaweed Brain” from time to time. What’s his most annoying quality? Annabeth: Well, I don’t call him that because he’s so bright, do I? I mean he’s not dumb. He’s actually pretty intelligent, but he acts so dumb sometimes. I wonder if he does it just to annoy me. The guy has a lot going for him. He’s courageous. He’s got a sense of humor. He’s good-looking, but don’t you dare tell him I said that. Where was I? Oh yeah, so he’s got a lot going for him, but he’s so . . . obtuse. That’s the word. I mean he doesn’t see really obvious stuff, like the way people feel, even when you’re giving him hints, and being totally blatant. What? No, I’m not talking about anyone or anything in particular! I’m just making a general statement. Why does everyone always think . . . agh! Forget it. Interview with GROVER UNDERWOOD, Satyr What’s your favorite song to play on the reed pipes?

I felt myself being blown about in a different kind of storm, my landing much more uncertain than those delicate flakes falling from the sky.

Grover--that snipping of the yarn. Does that mean somebody is going to die?" He looked at me mournfully, like he was already picking the kind of flowers I'd like best on my coffin.

Neither Amy nor her father seemed to think it the least bit worrisome that they knew nothing about me, really. They had both made their assessments on the spot and decided in my favor. It was heartening, and different from the city I’d left behind.

The station was broadcasting Glenn Miller and his band from some ballroom in Pennsylvania. It was probably one of those “Music of Your Life” stations. Miller's music still sounded fresh generations after it had first been heard. I could hear the tinkling of glasses between numbers as people chatted unaware something wonderful was passing, never to return. Miller himself would not return from WWII.

Grover Underwood tenía una (conexión por empatía) con Percy Jackson, que, según él, explicaba por qué a veces tenía unos antojos inexplicables de tortitas de arándanos.

We’ve got to run,” I said. “I don’t suppose you mean away,” Grover murmured hopefully.

Maybe the pictures are all black and white because things were black and white then, Nick." I knew exactly what she meant. There was a moral center then, and you could feel it still here in Grover's Creek. It was a time with a clearly defined sense of right and wrong, a time when values and integrity mattered, and the majority had both. And a time when love lasted forever.

A light and intermittent snowfall kept my world white over the next several days.  The air was fresh and pure, nature's white medicine removing all that was wrong in the world. I was glad I had taken the now lesser traveled roads marked in blue lines on the map. Hours would sometimes pass before another car broke the solitude. I always waved and so did they. I became less anonymous somehow and felt an instant kinship with anyone traversing these roads with me. Once, an entire day passed without a human sighting.

found what I believed to be the shoulder and managed to stop. It felt solid. The storm was interfering with radio reception, so I bundled up and listened to tapes of Alan Ladd in Box 13 and Larry Thor in Broadway is My Beat to keep me company.

Fate had somehow conspired against me, giving me a life of its choosing rather than my own. No one would really miss me if I were gone. I would slowly fade into the memories of a few, then melt away into nothingness, just like the snowman below. Faint echoes of Christmas music from the ice rink making its way upward in the cold swirling wind added to my melancholy. I was alive but not really living, stuck in a life which only took and never gave in return. It was in that moment I decided I was finished.

I was empty and lonely, unable to remember the last time I'd felt any real happiness, or if I ever had at all. I knew I had seen it a few times in the eyes of others, and in movies made a lifetime ago, back when love existed. Finding that old-fashioned kind of love would be a miracle, and I was not expecting a miracle to come my way...

Suddenly hungry, I waved a goodbye to my new friend and headed for the open road once more. I slid in an old radio cassette and enjoyed a Jack Benny Christmas show. I was among the living again. It was a start.

The chickens were staring at us with there beady black eyes as if thinking, 'Dude, if we were still dinosaurs, we would tear you to pieces'. At last, we found the karaoke bar.

Like last time, when we walked into a bathroom and surprised a Cyclops on the toilet?’ ‘That wasn’t my fault!’ Grover protested. ‘Besides, this direction smells right. Like … cacti.’ Meg sniffed the air. ‘I don’t smell cacti.’ ‘Meg,’ I said, ‘the satyr is supposed to be our guide. We don’t have much choice but to trust him.’ Grover huffed. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence. Your daily reminder: I didn’t ask to be magically summoned halfway across the country and wake up in a rooftop tomato patch in Indianapolis!’ Brave words, but he kept his eyes on the twin rings around Meg’s middle fingers, perhaps worried she might summon her golden scimitars and slice him into rotisserie-style cabrito. Ever since learning that Meg was a daughter of Demeter, the goddess of growing things, Grover Underwood had acted more intimidated by her than by me, a former Olympian deity. Life was not fair. Meg wiped her nose. ‘Fine. I just didn’t think we’d be wandering around down here for two days. The new moon is in –’ ‘Three more days,’ I said, cutting her off. ‘We know.’ Perhaps I was too brusque, but I didn’t need a reminder about the other part of the prophecy. While we travelled south to find the next Oracle, our friend Leo Valdez was desperately flying his bronze dragon towards Camp Jupiter, the Roman demigod training ground in Northern California, hoping to warn them about the fire, death and disaster that supposedly faced them at the new moon. I tried to soften my tone. ‘We have to assume Leo and the Romans can handle whatever’s coming in the north. We have our own task.’ ‘And plenty of our own fires.