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I felt like one of Apollo's sacred cows- slow, dumb, and bright red.

Rick Riordan

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Rick Riordan
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: June 5
Author
Novelist
Teacher
Writer
Military City
USA
Richard Russell Riordan
Jr.
Richard Russell Riordan Jr
Like
Apollo
Cows
Bright
Dumb
Slow
Red
Sacred
Felt
Simile

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I always love it when I hear back from kids who say they discovered Percy Jackson and now wear their learning difference as a badge of honour.
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Normally my sister, Sadie, or some of our other initiates from Brooklyn House would've come with me. But they were all at the First Nome, in Egypt, for a weeklong training session on controlling cheese demons(yes, they're a real thing believe me, you don't want to know)
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He offered to stop the tide for me once. He offered to build me a palace at the bottom of the sea.
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Very well! It shall be as you say. But my son, pray this works. I am praying. I'm talking to you, right? Oh...yes. Good point. Amphitrite - incoming!
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On a basketball court, five players were in the middle of an intense game. They wore assortment of jerseys from different American teams, and they all seemed keen to win—grunting and snarling at each other, stealing the ball and pushing. Oh…and the players were all baboons.
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Keep climbing,' he told himself. 'Cheeseburgers,' his stomach replied. 'Shut up,' he thought. 'With fries,' his stomach complained.
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Why does it have to be so hard? Why can't it be a happily-ever-after ride-into-the-sunset feeling all the time?
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No! Leo yelled. Uhhh, Nico groaned from the floor. Piper! Jason cried. Monkey! Frank yelled. Not monkeys, Hazel grumbled. I think those are dwarfs. Stealing my stuff! Leo yelled, and ran for the stairs.
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Hello!” The girl in the blood-red dress beamed at Leo. “Are you Dionysus?” There was only one answer to that. “Yes!” Leo yelped. “Absolutely. I am Dionysus.
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Survive first. Figure out crayon drawing of destiny later.
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Annabeth: Hey, Seaweed Brain. Percy: Will you stop calling me that? Annabeth: You know you love it.
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If you'd sat there any longer,' Annabeth said, 'you would have spontaneously combusted. I hope the conversation was worth it?
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Our problems started in Dallas, when the fire-breathing sheep destroyed the King Tut exhibit.
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For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across--hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me.
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Mr. D, wearing his leopard-skin jogging suit and rummaging through the refrigerator. He looked up lazily. Do you mind? Where's Chiron! I shouted. How rude. Mr. D took a swig from a jug of grape juice. Is that how you say hello? Hello, I amended. We're about to die! Where's Chiron?
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You’re probably thinking: Wait, you just charged in without a plan? But Annabeth and I had been fighting together for years. We knew each other’s abilities. We could anticipate each other’s moves. I might have felt awkward and nervous about being her boyfriend, but fighting with her? That came naturally. Hmm…that sounded wrong. Oh, well.
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It's useless to lecture a human.
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Nico di Angelo came into Olympus to a hero's welcome, his father right behind him, despite the fact that Hades was only supposed to visit Olympus in winter solstice. The God of the dead looked stunned when his relatives clapped him on the back. I doubt he'd ever got such an enthusiastic welcome before.
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Just curious how much I'm going for these days, Leo said. I mean, I can understand not being as pricey as Percy or Jason, maybe...but am I worth, like, two Franks, or three Franks?
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You might not think a hippo could inspire terror. Screaming “Hippo!” doesn’t have the same impact as screaming “Shark!” But I’m telling you—as the Egyptian Queen careened to one side, its paddle wheel lifting completely out of the water, and I saw that monster emerge from the deep, I nearly discovered the hieroglyphs for accident in my pants.
Rick Riordan