Quote

Just for you non-sea-god types out there, don't go swimming in New York Harbor. It may not be as filthy as it was in my mom's day, but that water will still probably make you grow a third eye or have mutant children when you grow up.

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
Water
Mom
Mutants
Stills
Sea
Harbor
Still
York
Filthy
May
Type
Harbors
Children
Grow
Types
Make
Probably
Swimming
Grows
Third
Eye
Thirds
Mutant

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But remember, boy, that a kind act can sometimes be as powerful as a sword. As a mortal, I was never a great fighter or athlete or poet. I only made wine. The people in my village laughed at me. They said I would never amount to anything. Look at me now. Sometimes small things can become very large indeed.
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Hubris means deadly pride. Thinking you can do things better than anyone else.
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What are these guys? He whispered Canadians, Percy said. Frank leaned away from him. Excuse me? Uh, no offense, Percy said. That's what Annabeth called them when I fought them before. She said they live in the north, in Canada. Yeah, well, Frank grumbled, we're in Canada. I'm Canadian. But I've never seen those things befor
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Percy looked at his friends. “I’m getting tired of this guy’s shirt.
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Look, Percy continued, I know I'm new here. I know you guys don't like to mention the massacre in the nineteen eighties- He mentioned it! one of the ghosts whimpered.
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I could hear hopefulness in her voice, but also doubt. She was waiting for me to admit the obvious: I’d forgotten. I was toast. I was boyfriend roadkill.
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Right.” Sadie looked dazed. “You’ve got a monkey butler. Why not?
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I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and realized my head was in Khufu’s lap. The baboon was foraging my scalp for munchies. “Dude.” I sat up groggily. “Not cool.” “But he gave you a lovely hairdo,” Sadie said. “Agh-agh!” Khufu agreed.
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My glowing form was so heavy, its feet sank into the top of the tank. “Sekhmet!” I yelled. The lioness whirled and snarled, trying to locate my voice. “Up here, kitty!” I called. She spotted me and her ears went back. “Horus?” ‘Unless you know another guy with a falcon head.
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Once I got over the fact that my Latin teacher was a horse, we had a nice tour, though I was careful not to walk behind him. I'd done pooper-scooper patrol in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade a few times, and, I'm sorry, I did not trust Chiron's back the the way I trusted his front.
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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 for worse...and try to keep the maiming and killing to a minimum.
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Two farewell gifts, Sadie muttered, from two gorgeous guys. I hate my life.
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Don’t judge someone until you’ve stood at his forge and worked with his hammer, eh?
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The afterlife looks different to every soul, he said, depending on whatthey believe. For that guy, Egypt must've made a strong impression when he was young , maybe. And if someone doesn't believe in any afterlife? i asked. Walt gave me a sad look. Then that's what they experience.
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All da ladies love Leo!!
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'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.'
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What horrible things would you have to do in your life to get woven into Hades's underwear?
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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.
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I'm just a kid, Chiron, I said miserably. What good is one lousy hero against something like Kronos? Chiron managed a smile. 'What good is one lousy hero'? Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain said something like that to me once, just before he single-handedly changed the course of your Civil War.
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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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