Trials Of Apollo Quotes

Nothing is more tragic than loving someone to the depths of your soul and knowing they cannot and will not ever love you back.

Nico," I said at last, "shouldn't you be sitting at the Hades table?" He shrugged. "Technically, yes. But if I sit alone at my table, strange things happen. Cracks open in the floor. Zombies crawl out and start roaming around. It's a mood disorder. I can't control it. That's what I told Chiron. " "And is it true?" I asked. Nico smiled thinly. "I have a note from my doctor." Will raised his hand. "I'm his doctor.

Yep, that pretty much describes my life: because Poseidon.

Will put his hand on Nico's shoulder. "Nico, we need to have another talk about your people skills." "Hey, I'm just stating the obvious. If this is Apollo, and he dies, we're all in trouble." Will turned to me. "I apologize for my boyfriend." Nico rolled his eyes. "Could you not―" "Would you prefer special guy?" Will asked. "Or significant other?" "Significant annoyance, in your case," Nico grumbled

Things can turn out differently, Apollo. That's the nice thing about being human. We only have one life, but we can choose what kind of story it's going to be.

Not all monsters were three-ton reptiles with poisonous breath. Many wore human faces.

He faced us. “You hear that, guys? A batch of cookies is depending on me. If you get me killed on the way to camp, I am going be ticked off.

Some of the best demigods have gotten their start by blowing up toilets.

Remember what it's like to be human,

No story ever ends, does it? It just leads into others.

Want to hit Leo? That is understandable Hunk muffin earned it

It warmed my heart that my children had the right priorities: their skills, their images, their views on YouTube.

The the glow become brighter: a holographic golden sickle with a few sheaves of wheat, rotating just above Meg McCaffrey. A boy in the crowd gasped. 'She's a communist!' A girl who'd been sitting at Cabin Four's table gave him a disgusted sneer. 'No, Damien, that's my mom's symbol.

Pain is an interesting thing. You think you have reached your limit and you can’t possibly feel more tortured. Then you discover there is still another level of agony. And another level after that.

Zeus needed someone to blame, so of course he’d picked the handsomest, most talented, most popular god in the pantheon: me.

Nosoi?” Percy planted his feet in a fighting stance. “You know, I keep thinking, I have now killed every single thing in Greek mythology. But the list never seems to end.” “You haven’t killed me yet,” I noted. “Don’t tempt me.

This did not seem to reassure Nico. “I don’t like being in the dark,” he muttered. An odd complaint for a child of Hades, but I understood what he meant.

It's not how long you live that matters. It's what you live for.

At last, as the sun went down, Meg seemed to understand it was time for me to leave. “You’ll come back?” she asked. “Always,” I promised. “The sun always comes back.

We only fail when we stop trying.

Will Solace sighed. He was, of course, tied to Nico. He propped his elbow on Nico’s shoulder as if the son of Hades were a convenient shelf.

Power makes good people uneasy rather than joyful or boastful. That’s why good people so rarely rise to power.

Check your spam folder The prophecies might be there No? Well, I'm stumped. Bye

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet my glow-in-the-dark boyfriend.

Defeating one ant had taken all my energy. (I don’t think I have ever written a sadder sentence than that.)

You’re gonna be like Aquaman?” she asked. “Get the fish to fight for you?” “Thanks,” Percy said. “I haven’t heard enough Aquaman jokes for one lifetime.

Everything living deserves a chance to grow.

At this point, you may be wondering how I felt seeing my son with Nico di Angelo. I’ll admit I did not understand Will’s attraction to a child of Hades, but if the dark foreboding type was what made Will happy… Oh perhaps some of you are wondering how I felt seeing him with a boyfriend rather than a girlfriend. If that’s the case, please. We gods are not hung up about such things.

Oh, why does college have to happen to perfectly good people?

The people who deserved to die took forever to do so. Those who deserved to live always went too soon.

I have a doctor's note.

How do you tell a dream from a nightmare? If it involves a book burning , it's probably a nightmare.

Used to be goddy Now uptown feeling shoddy Bah, haiku don’t rhyme

Showers are good. Perhaps not as good as bacon, but good.

I wondered if I should start a small fire in Percy Jackson's sink, perhaps burn some bandages in thanks, but I decided that might strain that Jackson's hospitality.

If I'm going to burn, I might as well burn bright. This is for Jason.

It always disappointed me when mortals put themselves first and failed to see the big picture—the importance of putting me first

Being productive. Ugh. It's such a human concept. It implies you have limited time (LOL) and have to work hard to make something happen (double LOL).

Have you completely made up for all the bad things you've done? No. But you keep adding to the good things column. That's all any of us can do.

No doubt she was thinking, Who dressed this poor girl like a traffic light?

Zeus did not answer. He was probably too busy recording my humiliation to share on Snapchat.

I would be Apollo. I would remember.

Call on me. I will be there for you.

Sacred Sibyl!” I cried. “Madam, there is something wrong with your midsection!” The woman stopped, mystified, and looked down at her hugely swollen belly. “Well, I’m seven months pregnant.

APOLLO'S DAILY MOTIVATIONAL SPEECH "You are gorgeous and people love you!

I'd tell you to say hello to Jason from me, but he'll be in Elysium. You . . . won't.

Promise me one thing. Whatever happens, when you get back to Olympus, when you’re a god again, remember. Remember what it’s like to be human.

I remember something Marcus Aurelius used to tell his son, a quote that later became famous in his Meditations book: Think of yourself as dead. You have lived your life. Now, take what's left and live it properly. What doesn't transmit light creates its own darkness.

Nico,” I said at last, “shouldn’t you be sitting at the Hades table?” He shrugged. “Technically, yes. But if I sit alone at my table, strange things happen. Cracks open in the floor. Zombies crawl out and start roaming around. It’s a mood disorder. I can’t control it. That’s what I told Chiron.” “And is it true?” I asked. Nico smiled thinly. “I have a note from my doctor.” Will raised his hand. “I’m his doctor.” “Chiron decided it wasn’t worth arguing about,” Nico said. “As long as I sit at a table with other people, like…oh, these guys for instance…the zombies stay away. Everybody’s happier.” Will nodded serenely. “It’s the strangest thing. Not that Nico would ever misuse his powers to get what he wants.” “Of course not,” Nico agreed.

Ever since my famous battle with Python, I've had a phobia of scaly reptilian creatures. (Especially if you include my stepmother, Hera. BOOM!)

It’s been my observation" I said, “that you humans are more than the sum of your history. You can choose how much of your ancestry to embrace. You can overcome the expectations of your family and your society. What you cannot do, and should never do, is try to be someone other than yourself–Piper McLean.

I felt a bit silly giving this advice to a girl who regularly fought monsters with golden swords, but I had promised Bill Nye the Science Guy I would always promote safe laboratory practices.

I wondered, not for the first time, why we Greek deities had never created a god of family therapy. We certainly could have used one. Or perhaps we had one before I was born, and she quit.

[Nero] jumped off his couch and marched straight toward me, his whole body starting to glow, because Will Solace couldn't have his own thing. Oh, no, Nero had to glow, too.

All da cows love Leo.

You’ve got to be kid— Well, crud, what just happened there? I ran out of syl—

SEEKEST THOU THE CHOO-CHOO.

Unbelievable," I murmured. "After four thousand years, I am still discovering new things." "Like how dumb you are," Meg volunteered. "No." "So you already knew that?

So, dear reader, we have come to the end of my trials. You have followed me through five volumes of adventures and six months of pain and suffering. By my reckoning, you have read two hundred and ten of my haiku. Like Meg, you surely deserve a reward. What would you accept? I am fresh out of unicorns. However, anytime you take aim and prepare to fire your best shot, anytime you seek to put your emotions into a song or poem, know that I am smiling on you. We are friends now. Call on me. I will be there for you.

Bow and quiver coming up," Nico said. "And ukelele," Will added. Nico winced. "Do we really hate Python that much?" Will raised an eyebrow.

Each person's grief has its own life span; it needs to follow its own path.

In the meantime, no one should roam the camp alone. Use the buddy system." "Understood." Will looked at Nico. "Will you be my buddy?" "You're a dork," Nico announced. The two of them strolled off bickering.

I rested my hand on Will's shoulder. 'Don't worry. We'll be back by dawn.' His mouth trembled ever so slightly. 'How can you be sure?' 'I'm the sun god,' I said, trying to muster more confidence than I felt. 'I always return at dawn.

I see you like to study,” I said. “Well done.” Percy snorted. “I hate to study. I’ve been guaranteed admission with a full scholarship to New Rome University, but they’re still requiring me to pass all my high school courses and score well on the SAT. Can you believe that? Not to mention I have to pass the DSTOMP.” “The what?” Meg asked. “An exam for Roman demigods,” I told her. “The Demigod Standard Test of Mad Powers.” Percy frowned. “That’s what it stands for?” “I should know. I wrote the music and poetry analysis sections.” “I will never forgive you for that,” Percy said.

Nico laughed, which I didn’t know he was capable of.

Jason sighed miserably. “That’s supposed to be my job. I’m always the one who gets knocked in the head.

Nets can be traps. But they can also be safety nets. You just have to know when to jump in.

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?

We were ten feet away when we triggered the First Law of Percy Jackson

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

Never underestimate the power of thousands of human minds all believing the same thing. They can remake reality. Sometimes for the better, sometimes not." - Apollo

I've found that when one us searching for danger, it's never hard to find.

They have gone missing? No, no, no, no, no, no, no No, et cetera

I hear much talk about us and them. I am always wary when people speak this way, as if people can be so easily divided into friend and enemy.

I dragged Meg toward the sewer (because that’s what friends are for)

FARE THEE WELL, FRIEND, said the arrow. APOLLO WILL FALL, BUT APOLLO MUST RISE AGAIN.

That little fire-flicker," she grumbled. "We search for months and he just shows up at camp?" "Yes," I agreed. "There is a waiting list of people who would like to hit him. We can fit you in sometime next fall.

And the seventh hero…Leo Valdez?” Nico raised his eyebrows. “You remember his name?” “Of course! He invented the Valdezinator. Oh, what a musical instrument! I barely had time to master its major scales before Zeus zapped me at the Parthenon. If anyone could help me, it would be Leo Valdez.

Had I ever been so terrified? Perhaps when Typhon raged across the earth, scattering the gods before him. Perhaps when Gaea unleashed her giants to tear down Olympus. Or perhaps when I accidentally saw Ares naked in the gymnasium. That had been enough to turn my hair white for a century.

Making music was its own sort of divinity.

The smallest seedlings, Demeter often told me, grow into century oaks.

Let's have a good clean three-legged death race.

Caves of blue. Strike the hue. Westward, burning. Pages turning. Indiana. Ripe banana. Happiness approaches. Serpents and roaches. There once was a god named Apollo Who plunged in a cave blue and hollow Upon a three-seater The bronze fire-eater Was forced death and madness to swallow

Goodbye, Apollo,' said the Sibyl's voice, clearer now. 'I forgive you. Not because you deserve it. Not for your sake at all. But because I will not go into oblivion carrying hate when I can carry love.

Dude!” Percy stuffed a cookie in his mouth. His eyes rolled up in ecstasy. “Apollo, you’re the best. I take back almost everything I’ve said about you.” “It’s quite all right,” I assured him. “Wait…what do you mean almost?

If you have ever tried to walk while immersed in a swift stream, you know how difficult it is. Also, if you have tried it, then may I ask why?

Rachel pulled out a blue plastic hairbrush and threw it at the nearest barbarian, beaning him in the eye and making him howl. Sorry I underestimated you, Rachel, I thought distantly. You’re actually kind of a hairbrush ninja.

My father, Zeus, did not love me. The demigods at Camp Half-Blood did not love me. Python and the Beast and his comrades at Triumvirate Holdings did not love me. It was almost enough to make me question my self-worth. No, no. That was crazy talk.

My son Asclepius had become the god of medicine by the time he was fifteen, and I couldn’t have been happier for him. It left me time for my other interests. Besides, it’s every god’s dream to have a child who grows up to be a doctor.

Like me, he had decided that Piper McLean would not die tonight. For some reason, he had decided that I must live too. He yelled again, 'GO! Remember!' (...) While Jason's back was turned, Caligula wheeled about. He threw his spear, driving its point between Jason's shoulder blades. Piper screamed. Jason stiffened, his blue eyes wide in shock.

Of course, even without my help, other forces would keep the cosmos chugging along. Many different belief systems powered the revolution of the planets and stars. Wolves would still chase Sol across the sky. Ra would continue his daily journey in his sun barque. Tonatiuh would keep running on his surplus blood from human sacrifices back in the Aztec days. And that other thing—science— would still generate gravity and quantum physics or whatever.

Meg turned and gazed out the rear windshield, probably checking for any shiny blobs pursuing us. “At least we’re not being—” “Don’t say it,” Percy warned. Meg huffed. “You don’t know what I was going to—” “You were going to say, ‘At least we’re not being followed,’” Percy said. “That’ll jinx us. Immediately we’ll notice that we are being followed. Then we’ll end up in a big battle that totals my family car and probably destroys the whole freeway. Then we’ll have to run all the way to camp.” Meg’s eyes widened. “You can tell the future?” "Don’t need to.” Percy changed lanes to one that was crawling slightly less slowly. “I’ve just done this a lot.

This brings to mind an expression I coined ages ago: A peach a day keeps the plague spirits away!' Percy sneezed. 'I though it was apples and doctors.' The karpos hissed. 'Or peaches,' Percy said. 'Peaches work too.' 'Peaches,' agrees the karpos. Percy wiped his nose. 'Not criticizing, but why is her grooting?

He had been born in Mussolini’s Italy. He had survived decades in the time-warp reality of the Lotus Casino. He’d emerged in modern times disoriented and culture-shocked, arrived at Camp Half-Blood, and promptly lost his sister Bianca to a dangerous quest. He had wandered the Labyrinth in self-imposed exile, being tortured and brainwashed by a malevolent ghost. He’d overcome everyone’s distrust and emerged from the Battle of Manhattan as a hero. He’d been captured by giants during the rise of Gaea. He’d wandered Tartarus alone and somehow managed to come out alive. And through it all, he’d struggled with his upbringing as a conservative Catholic Italian male from the 1930s and finally learned to accept himself as a young gay man. Anyone who could survive all that had more resilience than Stygian iron.

Jason took me by the shoulders—not out of anger, or in a clinging way, but as a brother. “Promise me one thing. Whatever happens, when you get back to Olympus, when you’re a god again, remember. Remember what it’s like to be human.” A few weeks ago, I would have scoffed. Why would I want to remember any of this? At best, if I were lucky enough to reclaim my divine throne, I would recall this wretched experience like a scary B-movie that had finally ended. I would walk out of the cinema into the sunlight, thinking Phew! Glad that’s over. Now, however, I had some inkling of what Jason meant. I had learned a lot about human frailty and human strength. I felt…different toward mortals, having been one of them. If nothing else, it would provide me with some excellent inspiration for new song lyrics!

It struck me just how young he was—no more than seventeen. Older than my mortal form, yes, but not by much. This young man had lost his mother. He had survived the harsh training of Lupa the wolf goddess. He’d grown up with the discipline of the Twelfth Legion at Camp Jupiter. He’d fought Titans and giants. He’d helped save the world at least twice. But by mortal standards, he was barely an adult. He wasn’t old enough to vote or drink.

I’ll be back with the sandwiches,” she said. “But I had some leftover seven-layer dip.” “Yum.” Percy dug in with a tortilla chip. “She’s kinda famous for this, guys.” Sally ruffled his hair. “There’s guacamole, sour cream, refried beans, salsa—” “Seven layers?” I looked up in wonder. “You knew seven is my sacred number? You invented this for me?” Sally wiped her hands on her apron. “Well, actually, I can’t take credit—” “You are too modest!” I tried some of the dip. It tasted almost as good as ambrosia nachos. “You will have immortal fame for this, Sally Jackson!

Gods know about fading. They know about being forgotten over centuries. The idea of ceasing to exist altogether terrifies us. In fact- well, Zeus would not like me sharing this information, and if you tell anyone, I will deny I ever said it-but the truth is we gods are a little in awe of you mortals. You spend your whole lives knowing you will die. No matter how many friends and relatives you have, your puny existences will quickly be forgotten. How do you cope with it? Why are you not running around constantly screaming and pulling your hair out? Your bravery, I must admit, is quite admirable.

I wanted to go back to a time before all the sacrifices had been made. Before I had experienced so much pain. But making things right could not mean rewinding the clock. Even Kronos hadn't had that much power over time. I suspected that wasn't what Jason Grace would want, either. When he'd told me to remember being human, he'd meant building on pain and tragedy, overcoming it, learning from it. That was something gods never did. We just complained. To be human is to move forward, to adapt, to believe in your ability to make things better. That is the only way to make the pain and sacrifice mean something.

Hazel studied Reyna’s outfit with concern. “Your sword’s in the truck. Don’t you want to take a shield or something?” “Nah. I’ve got my cloak. It’ll turn aside most weapons.” Reyna brushed the collar of her sweater wrap. Instantly it unfurled into her usual purple cape. Frank’s smile faded. “Does my cloak do that?” “See you, guys!” Reyna climbed behind the wheel. “Wait, does my cloak deflect weapons?” Frank called after us. “Does mine turn into a sweater wrap?” As we pulled away, I could see Frank Zhang in the rearview mirror, intently studying the stitching of his cape.