Percy Jackson Book Quotes

In a way, it's nice to know that there are Greek gods out there, because you have somebody to blame when things go wrong. For instance, when you're walking away from a bus that's just been attacked by monster hags and blown up by lightning, and it's raining on top of everything else, most people might think that's just really bad luck; when you're a half-blood, you understand that some devine force is really trying to mess up your day.

All I could think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorms room. Or maybe they'd realized I got my Essay on Tom Sawyer from the Internet without ever reading the book and now they were going to take away my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book.

All aboard for one last trip.

Wisdom's daughter walks alone—” “Ella!” Frank stood suddenly. “Maybe it's not the best time—” “The Mark of Athena burns through Rome,” Ella continued, cupping her hands over her ears and raising her voice. “Twins snuff out the angel's breath, Who holds the key to endless death. Giants' bane stands gold and pale, Won with pain from a woven jail.

Look, I didnt want to be a half-blood. If you're reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now. Believe whatever lie your mom and dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal life. Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful nasty ways. If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think it's fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe none of this ever happened. But if you recognize yourself in these pages-if you feel something stirring inside- stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that, it's only a matter of time before THEY sense it too, and they'll come for you. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Then she did something that really surprised me. She blinked back tears and put out her arms. I stepped forward and hugged her. Butterflies started turning my stomach into a mosh pit. "Hey, it's... it's okay." I patted her back. I was aware of everything in the room. I felt like I could read the tiniest print on any book on the shelves. Annabeth's hair smelled like lemon soap. She was shivering.

I'd had years of practise looking dumb when people threw out Greek names I didn't know. It's a skill of mine. Annabeth keeps telling me to read a book of Greek myths, but I don't see the need. It's easier just to have folks explain stuff.

You are a half-blood," Zoe Nightshade said. Her accent was hard to place. It sounded old-fashioned, like she was reading from a really old book. "One of thy parents was mortal. The other was an Olympian." "An Olympian athlete?" "No," Zoe said. "One of the gods." "Cool!" said Nico.

At the end of the warehouse was a dais constructed from pallets of books: stack of vampire novels, walls of James Patterson thrillers, and a throne from about a thousand copies of something called The Five Habits of Highly Aggressive Women.

I sort of fell." "Percy! Six hundred and thirty feet?

Do you know who I am?" she demanded. "Well, you're Night, I suppose," said Annabeth. "I mean, I can tell because you're dark and everything, though the brochure didn't say much about you." Nyx's eyes winked out for a moment. "What brochure?" Annabeth patted her pockets. "We had one, didn't we?" Percy licked his lips. "Uh-huh." He was still watching the horses, his hand tight on his sword hilt, but he was smart enough to follow Annabeth's lead. [...] "Anyway," she said, "I guess the brochure didn't say much, because you weren't spotlighted on the tour. We got to see the River Phlegethon, the Cocytus, the arai, the poison glade of Akhlys, even some random Titans and giants, but Nyx...hmm, no you weren't really featured." "Featured? Spotlighted?" "Yeah," Percy said, warming up to the idea. "We came down here for the Tartarus tour--like, exotic destinations, you know? The Underworld is overdone. Mount Olympus is a tourist trap--" "Gods, totally!" Annabeth agreed. "So we booked the Tartarus excursion, but no one even mentioned we'd run into Nyx. Huh. Oh, well. Guess they didn't think you were important.

It's not how long you live that matters. It's what you live for." -Josephine to Apollo (Trials of Apollo: Book 2 The Dark Prophecy)

They had a wonderful romantic night together. In fact it was so wonderful that at one point Zeus excused himself, took his phone into the bathroom and texted Helios, the sun god: Bro, take a few days off. I need this night to last!

Me, I like the theory that Amazon comes from the Persian term ha-mazan, which means warriors. I like that theory because Annabeth likes that theory, and if I don’t like what she likes she gets all ha-mazan on me.

Otrera led her warriors on tons of successful campaigns across Asia Minor and into Greece. They founded two famous cities on the western coast of Turkey – Smyrna and Ephesus. Why they picked those names, I don’t know. I would’ve gone with Buttkickville and Smackdown City, but that’s just me.

FEAR NOT, said a voice from the glitter. I AM ZEUS, LORD OF THE SKY. YOU LOOK FINE, GIRL. DO YOU WANT TO HANG OUT?

Oops. Sorry, everybody. This book is not officially endorsed by the proper Muse. If it explodes in your hand, my bad.

O Great Teller of the Future and Inhaler of Volcanic Gas!’ said the king. ‘Can I get a boy child over here, or what?

I really wish my cousins wouldn’t slam their heads together. They don’t have the brain cells to spare.

Books might not have much power over me, but I’m a sucker for small shiny objects.

If you can read this, then surprise! You're probably a demigod too. That's because only demigods - and a few special mortals, like my mom and Rachel Elizabeth Dare - can read what's actually written here. To everyone else, this book is called The Complete History of Pavement and it's about ... well, that should be obvious. You can thank the Mist for that choice of topic.

He isn’t dead,” she insisted. “I know it. The same way you knew about me.” That comparison didn’t make me too happy.

But whenever Annabeth talked about the time she spent with them, I kind felt... I don’t know. Uncomfortable? No. That’s not the word. The word was jealous.

Mr. D’s idea of fun would have been to turn us all into Amazon river dolphins. I didn’t want to test him.

They reminded Kyle of a Greek god and goddess straight out of the Percy Jackson books. “Wow,” said Miguel. “Do you think Rick Riordan’s going to be here? That would be so awesome!

I am not choosing one of your paths, I am making one of my own.

Even the gods were impressed. They descended from Olympus and loaded Hercules down with so much swag, it got embarrassing. Hermes

Only one more day to go. Surely even I couldn't mess that up. As usual, I didn't have a clue how wrong I was.

Personally,” Mr. D continued, “I couldn’t care less, but congratulations. Also, I should tell you that we have a new camper today. Peter Johnson.” Chiron murmured something. “Er, Percy Jackson,” Mr. D corrected. “That’s right. Hurrah, and all that. Now run along to your silly campfire. Go on.

The book was The Art of War by Sun Tzu. Percy had never heard of it, but he could guess who sent it. The letter read: Good job, kid. A real man’s best weapon is his mind. This was your mom’s favorite book. Give it a read. P.S.—I hope your friend Percy has learned some respect for me. “Wow.” Percy handed back the book. “Maybe Mars is different than Ares. I don’t think Ares can read.

I GET A NEW ENEMY FOR CHRISTMAS

He was reading a huge book with a picture of a wizard on the front. I wasn’t much into fantasy, but the book must’ve been good, because the guard took a while to look up.

Hercules Does Twelve Stupid Things

She can’t do all your homework for you, dude,” Hana said. “Yeah, she has to do our homework,” Dave said.

they spend a lot of time Googling themselves, too.)

For the second time, humans had raided her home

My Little Pegasus pyjamas, the

Maybe it’s the other way around,’ Jason suggested. ‘Maybe people with special gifts show up when bad things are happening because that’s when they’re needed most.

I’m a little too ADHD to include every single one of them in a single book.

My mom told us that her book had received its first one-star review online, even though the book wouldn’t be out for several more months.

The big reason I prefer books to TV or movies is that books allow space for your imagination to create the way you see the characters.

My story has already been written down in some books that are total fiction (wink, wink) and I am just a character from the story (cough – yeah, right – cough).

I thought about Grover’s comment—that things had to get easier. The problem was, in Percy World, things never got easier, only weirder.

Hecate arched her eyebrows. “I don’t limit access to books, Percy Jackson. I’m not a monster.

We’ve been coming here since we were in fifth grade and our moms dropped us off for our Percy Jackson book club for two.

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. “Kidding,” she said.

Or maybe they’d realized I got my essay on Tom Sawyer from the Internet without ever reading the book and now they were going to take away my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book.

Hecate showed us a few other highlights of the polecat cave: the cardboard box where Gale liked to sleep, next to the expensive polecat habitat that had come in the box but Gale wouldn’t even look at.

Otrera, we meet at last,’ he said. ‘Dang, girl, you’re fine.’ Otrera’s knees shook. It’s not every day you meet one of your favourite gods. But she didn’t bow or kneel. She was done bowing to men, even Ares. Also,

Sorry, Tom,” said Mr. Lemoncello. “At the Lemoncello Library, we value the truth more than myths.” “What about all those Percy Jackson books you have?” fumed Edison. “Those are myths!” “And they are correctly shelved as fiction.

LOOK, I’M ONLY IN THIS FOR THE PIZZA. The publisher was like, “Oh, you did such a great job writing about the Greek gods last year! We want you to write another book about the Ancient Greek heroes! It’ll be so cool!” And I was like, “Guys, I’m dyslexic. It’s hard enough for me to read books.” Then they promised me a year’s supply of free pepperoni pizza, plus all the blue jelly beans I could eat. I sold out. I guess it’s cool. If you’re looking to fight monsters yourself, these stories might help you avoid some common mistakes—like staring Medusa in the face, or buying a used mattress from any dude named Crusty. But the best reason to read about the old Greek heroes is to make yourself feel better. No matter how much you think your life sucks, these guys and gals had it worse. They totally got the short end of the Celestial stick. By the way, if you don’t know me, my name is Percy Jackson. I’m a modern-day demigod—the son of Poseidon. I’ve had some bad experiences in my time, but the heroes I’m going to tell you about were the original old-school hard-luck cases. They boldly screwed up where no one had screwed up before. Let’s pick twelve of them. That should be plenty. By the time you finish reading about how miserable their lives were—what with the poisonings, the betrayals, the mutilations, the murders, the psychopathic family members, and the flesh-eating barnyard animals—if that doesn’t make you feel better about your own existence, then I don’t know what will. So get your flaming spear. Put on your lion-skin cape. Polish your shield, and make sure you’ve got arrows in your quiver. We’re going back about four thousand years to decapitate monsters, save some kingdoms, shoot a few gods in the butt, raid the Underworld, and steal loot from evil people. Then, for dessert, we’ll die painful tragic deaths. Ready? Sweet. Let’s do this.

He played “YMCA,” and the strawberry plants started going crazy, wrapping around our feet like they were trying to strangle us. I guess I couldn’t blame them.

The surfer screamed something about bad mushrooms and paddled away from us as fast as he could.

Most Yancy field

Am I a troubled kid? Yeah, you could say that.

So next time you're bitten by a cobra, don't worry! Just book a flight to Lemnos and eat a bunch of dirt. You'll be fine.

For I am the Mother of Monsters, the terrible Echidna!" "Isn't that a kind of anteater?

Anybody who can piggyback-ride a Fury is okay with me." I couldn't really see, but I thought she might've smiled.

My story has already been written down in some books that are total fiction (wink, wink) and I am just a character from the story (cough—yeah, right—cough).

ORPHEUS TAKES A SOLO HERCULES DOES TWELVE STUPID THINGS

minute later Annabeth hit a slippery patch of moss and her foot slipped. Fortunately, she found something else to put it against. Unfortunately, that something was my face.

WE VISIT THE JUNK YARD OF THE GODS

I knew this wasn't a dream. I had no imagination.

As soon as we saw him, Tyson froze. “Pony!” He cries in total rupture. Chiron turned, looking offended. “I beg your pardon?

From her pocket, she brought out a small metal figurine, a statue of a god. “It... it was for Nico. It was the only statue he didn’t have.

I am the Maiden,” said Hecate in a chorus of three voices. “I am the Mother. I am the Crone. I am all phases of a woman’s life—all her power—and I will suffer no man to cross me.

Not that I’d ever been in a medieval church, but I saw Spamalot once, so I felt like an expert.

Good job, hero,” she said. “I’m not even going to ask why you have a bikini bottom wrapped around your ankle.

I'd missed my entire junior year thanks to some business we won't get into (Hera) on account of some meddling gods (Hera) for reasons of a cosmic apocalypse (Hera).

I was glad I hadn’t had to learn animal-speak for my school’s foreign-language requirement. I’d barely been able to master numbers and colors in Spanish, even with my friend Leo Valdez as a tutor.

Zoe had known all along that the oracle's prophecy was about her: she would die by a parent's hand. And yet she'd taken the quest anyway. She had chosen to save me, and Atlas' fury had broken her inside.

they’re reluctant to give you straight answers. It’s never Hi, I’m Zeus. It’s always I am the Thunder-Maker, the Paranoid Patriarch, Heavenly Adulterer, Lightning Britches, King of Luxurious Beard Products.

On my keychain, I kept a dog whistle that Leo Valdez had given me. It wasn’t made of Stygian ice like my first one—that had shattered. This one was Celestial bronze and engraved with LEO+PERCY 4EVER ♥, because Leo is a doofus.

All Summer in a Day” by Ray Bradbury Because of Winn-Dixie by Kate DiCamillo Big Nate series by Lincoln Peirce The Black Cauldron (The Chronicles of Prydain) by Lloyd Alexander The Book Thief  by Markus Zusak Brian’s Hunt by Gary Paulsen Brian’s Winter by Gary Paulsen Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson Bud, Not Buddy by Christopher Paul Curtis The Call of the Wild by Jack London The Cat in the Hat by Dr. Seuss Charlotte’s Web by E. B. White The Chronicles of Narnia series by C. S. Lewis Diary of a Wimpy Kid series by Jeff Kinney Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury The Giver by Lois Lowry Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown Harry Potter series by J. K. Rowling Hatchet by Gary Paulsen The High King (The Chronicles of Prydain) by Lloyd Alexander The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien Holes by Louis Sachar The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins I Am LeBron James by Grace Norwich I Am Stephen Curry by Jon Fishman Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O’Dell Johnny Tremain by Esther Hoskins Forbes Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson LeBron’s Dream Team: How Five Friends Made History by LeBron James and Buzz Bissinger The Lightning Thief  (Percy Jackson and the Olympians) by Rick Riordan A Long Walk to Water by Linda Sue Park The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle Number the Stars by Lois Lowry The Outsiders by S. E. Hinton The River by Gary Paulsen The Sailor Dog by Margaret Wise Brown Sarah, Plain and Tall by Patricia MacLachlan Shiloh by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor “A Sound of Thunder” by Ray Bradbury Star Wars Expanded Universe novels (written by many authors) Star Wars series (written by many authors) The Swiss Family Robinson by Johann D. Wyss Tales from a Not-So-Graceful Ice Princess (Dork Diaries) by Rachel Renée Russell Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing by Judy Blume “The Tell-Tale Heart” by Edgar Allan Poe Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt Under the Blood-Red Sun by Graham Salisbury The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle

Instead of collapsing, Theseus swung it and smacked Periphetes upside the head, killing him instantly. ‘Yep!’ Theseus said. ‘That’s bronze over wood, all right! Thanks, man. I think I’ll keep this.’ Periphetes didn’t argue, since he was dead. Theseus

I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson. I took a deep breath. I picked up the mythology book. I’d never asked a teacher for help before. Maybe if I talked to Mr. Brunner, he could give me some pointers. At least I could apologize for the big fat F I was about to score on his exam. I didn’t want to leave Yancy Academy with him thinking I hadn’t tried. I walked downstairs to the faculty offices. Most of them were dark and empty, but Mr. Brunner’s door was ajar, light from his window stretching across the hallway floor. I was three steps from the door handle when I heard voices inside the office. Mr. Brunner asked a question. A voice that was definitely Grover’s said “…worried about Percy, sir.” I froze. I’m not usually an eavesdropper, but I dare you to try not listening if you hear your best friend talking about you to an adult. I inched closer.

If you’re reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now. Believe what-ever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal life. Being a half-blood is dangerous. It’s scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.

In the first bathroom we visited, the shower worked normally, but the toilet was on the ceiling, the water staying in the bowl in defiance of gravity. “What happens if you flush it?” I wondered. Annabeth laughed. “Percy, I’ve seen what happens when you mess with plumbing. If you want to try that, wait until I’m out of the room.

Clarisse’s friends were all laughing, and I was trying to find the strength I’d used to fight the Minotaur, but it just wasn’t there. “Like he’s ‘Big Three’ material,” Clarisse said as she pushed me toward one of the toilets. “Yeah, right. Minotaur probably fell over laughing, he was so stupid looking.” Her friends snickered. Annabeth stood in the corner, watching through her fingers. Clarisse bent me over on my knees and started pushing my head toward the toilet bowl. It reeked like rusted pipes and, well, like what goes into toilets. I strained to keep my head up. I was looking at the scummy water, thinking, I will not go into that. I won’t. Then something happened. I felt a tug in the pit of my stomach. I heard the plumbing rumble, the pipes shudder. Clarisse’s grip on my hair loosened. Water shot out of the toilet, making an arc straight over my head, and the next thing I knew, I was sprawled on the bathroom tiles with Clarisse screaming behind me. I turned just as water blasted out of the toilet again, hitting Clarisse straight in the face so hard it pushed her down onto her butt. The water stayed on her like the spray from a fire hose, pushing her backward into a shower stall. She struggled, gasping, and her friends started coming toward her. But then the other toilets exploded, too, and six more streams of toilet water blasted them back. The showers acted up, too, and together all the fixtures sprayed the camouflage girls right out of the bathroom, spinning them around like pieces of garbage being washed away. As soon as they were out the door, I felt the tug in my gut lessen, and the water shut off as quickly as it had started. The entire bathroom was flooded. Annabeth hadn’t been spared. She was dripping wet, but she hadn’t been pushed out the door. She was standing in exactly the same place, staring at me in shock.

So those are the basics. I know some of you are going to be complaining, like, Ah, you forgot to talk about Cheez Whiz, the god of mice! You forgot to mention Bumbritches, the god of bad fashion statements! Or whatever. Please. There are about a hundred thousand Greek gods out there. I'm a little too ADHD to include every single one of them in a single book. Sure, I could tell you how Gaea raised an army of giants to attack Olympus. I could tell you how Cupid got his girlfriend, or how Hecate got her farting weasel. But that would take a whole other book. (And please don't give the publisher any ideas. This writing gig is HARD!) We've covered most of the major players. You probably know enough now to avoid getting zapped into a pile of ash if you ever come across any of the twelve Olympians. Probably. “Me, I’m late to meet my girlfriend. Annabeth is going to kill me. Hope you enjoyed the stories. Stay safe out there, demigods. Peace from Manhattan, Percy Jackson

Hang on, you two!’ the ram said. ‘There’s a lot of turbulence over this part of the sea and –’ ‘AHHHHHHHH!’ Helle, who was not hella good at listening, slipped off the ram’s back and plummeted to her death. ‘Darn it!’ said Chrysomallos. ‘I told you to hang on!’ After that, Phrixus dug his hands into the ram’s fleece and wouldn’t let go for anything. The place where Helle died was a narrow channel of water between the Aegean Sea and the Black Sea. Forever afterwards it was called the Hellespont, I guess because Hella Stupid would’ve been impolite.

I took out Riptide. With the tip of the blade, I etched a message on the sidewalk: Went to Gramercy. That was another trick I’d only learned in the last month. One day when I was bored, sitting on a sidewalk while my mom shopped for clothes for her first author signing, I discovered that Riptide could sketch glowing lines on asphalt that no regular mortals could see. The markings lasted about three hours before fading away—less if it rained. It made me wonder why I’d never seen Celestial bronze graffiti around from other demigods. Maybe they’d never gotten bored enough to try it. Or maybe their weapons didn’t have a side hustle as writing utensils.

Pretty,eh?" I jumped a foot. "Nonna!" She was standing in my doorway, beaming like a demented gnome. "For your underwater dance." "It looks like....a toga." "Toga," she sniffed as she stalked across the room to lift the dress from its hanger, "is for boys at silly parties. This is for a goddess." She held it up to me. "You will be Salacia, Roman goddess of water." It still looked like a toga, and not a very big one, although it did almost reach the floor. My legs would be covered, which was all well and good, except that, other than going a little too long without defuzzing, I didn't have much of a problem with my legs. I did know this wasn't going to work. I just had no idea at the moment how I was going to make it not happen. "This is awfully...pagan of you, Nonna." She rolled her eyes. "Ai, sixteen, with the smart mouth and such certainty. You think I just read the Bible? A goddess, she has more fun than a saint." "Nonna!" "Ah!" She poked me in the center of the chest with her middle finger. "Fun, si, but a bad end if she thinks to hold the heart of a boy who wants only to play. Salacia, she let Neptune chase her and chase her and prove his heart was true." I didn't argue. My grasp of Greco-Roman mythology is shaky at best, and derived mostly from the Percy Jackson books. I had my doubts about Neptune's heart, but figured it would only be smart-assy to mention that to my grandmother.

Look, I didn’t want to be a half- blood. If you’re reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now. Believe whatever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal life. Being a half- blood is dangerous. It’s scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways. If you’re a normal kid, reading this because you think it’s fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this ever happened. But if you recognize yourself in these pages—if you feel something stirring inside—stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that, it’s only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they’ll come for you.

DEAR YOUNG DEMIGOD, Your destiny awaits. Now that you have discovered your true parentage, you must prepare yourself for a difficult future—fighting monsters, adventuring across the world, and dealing with temperamental Greek and Roman gods. I don’t envy you. I hope this volume will help you on your journeys. I had to think long and hard before publishing these stories, as they were given to me in the strictest confidence. However, your survival comes first, and this book will give you an inside look at the world of demigods—information that may help keep you alive. We’ll begin with “The Diary of Luke Castellan.” Over the years, many readers and campers at Camp Half-Blood have asked me to tell the story of Luke’s early days, adventuring with Thalia and Annabeth before they arrived at camp. I have been reluctant to do this, as neither Annabeth nor Thalia likes to talk about those times. The only information I have is recorded in Luke’s own handwriting, in his original diary given to me by Chiron. I think it’s time, though, to share a little of Luke’s story. It may help us understand what went wrong for such a promising young demigod. In this excerpt you will find out how Thalia and Luke arrived in Richmond, Virginia, chasing a magic goat, how they were almost destroyed in a house of horrors, and how they met a young girl named Annabeth. I have also included a map of Halcyon Green’s house in Richmond. Despite the damage described in the story, the house has been rebuilt, which is very troubling. If you go there, be careful. It may still contain treasures. But it most assuredly contains monsters and traps as well. Our second story will definitely get me in trouble with Hermes. “Percy Jackson and the Staff of Hermes” describes an embarrassing incident for the god of travelers, which he hoped to solve quietly with

Twenty, thirty, forty feet. The pressure wasn’t uncomfortable. I’d never tried to push it—to see if there was a limit to how deep I could dive. I knew most regular humans couldn’t go past two hundred feet without crumpling like an aluminum can. I should’ve been blind, too, this deep in the water at night, but I could see the heat from living forms, and the cold of the currents. It’s hard to describe. It wasn’t like regular seeing, but I could tell where everything was. As I got closer to the bottom, I saw three hippocampi—fish-tailed horses—swimming in a circle around an overturned boat. The hippocampi were beautiful to watch. Their fish tails shimmered in rainbow colors, glowing phosphorescent. Their manes were white, and they were galloping through the water the way nervous horses do in a thunderstorm. Something was upsetting them. I got closer and saw the problem. A dark shape—some kind of animal—was wedged halfway under the boat and tangled in a fishing net, one of those big nets they use on trawlers to catch everything at once. I hated those things. It was bad enough they drowned porpoises and dolphins, but they also occasionally caught mythological animals. When the nets got tangled, some lazy fishermen would just cut them loose and let the trapped animals die. Apparently this poor creature had been mucking around on the bottom of Long Island Sound and had somehow gotten itself tangled in the net of this sunken fishing boat. It had tried to get out and managed to get even more hopelessly stuck, shifting the boat in the process. Now the wreckage of the hull, which was resting against a big rock, was teetering and threatening to collapse on top of the tangled animal. The hippocampi were swimming around frantically, wanting to help but not sure how. One was trying to chew the net, but hippocampi teeth just aren’t meant for cutting rope. Hippocampi are really strong, but they don’t have hands, and they’re not (shhh) all that smart. Free

Laistry—I can’t even say that. What would you call them in English?” She thought about it for a moment. “Canadians,

He went back to playing “YMCA” for the strawberry plants. I didn’t need an empathy link with the plants to know how they felt about it.

Copreus, my herald …’ The king’s herald scuttled over. ‘Yes, my lord?’ ‘What do people say when they wish someone luck, but they mean it in a sarcastic way?’ ‘Um, good luck with that?’ ‘Yes! Good luck with that, Hercules! Ha, ha!

He would only attack if he were attacked first. And, whenever possible, he would defeat his enemies the same way they tried to defeat him. Smack Theseus with a club? He’d take your club and kill you with it. Tie Theseus to a pine tree? He’d tie you to two pine trees. Not only was this system fair; it was fun.

wanted

About a year ago at a signing for The Lightning Thief, a boy raised his hand in the audience and asked, “What is the theme of your book?” I stared at him blankly. “I don’t know.” “Darn it!” he said. “I need that for my report!

MATH

Families are messy. Immortal families are eternally messy. Sometimes the best we can do is to remind each other that we’re related, for better or worse…and try to keep the maiming and killing to a minimum.” It didn’t sound like much of a recipe for the perfect family.

I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles.

my father.

Cyrene didn’t notice, but a golden chariot pulled by four white horses descended from the heavens and landed on the summit.

the Theban army was about as powerful as a squad of mall cops.

Percy Jackson," Hermes said. "you might just teach us a thing or two.

Odio quando le persone mi deludono, quando le cose sono temporanee.