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Maybe if he did really well they'd give him some mouldy apples.

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
Mouldy
Apples
Maybe
Give
Wells
Well
Giving
Really

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I like to have a simple workplace.
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Annabeth's face, her blond hair and gray eyes, the way she laughed, threw her arms around him, and gave him a kiss whenever he did something stupid. She must have kissed me a lot, Percy thought.
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Life is only precious because it ends, kid.
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There's no point in defending camp if you guys die. All our friends are here.
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Monkey bars, Annabeth said. I'm great at these. She leaped onto to the first rung and started swinging her way across. She was scared of tiny spiders, but not of plummeting to her death from a set of monkey bars. Go figure.
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Alabaster, you told me earlier that heroes don't die. You may be right, but I can tell you one thing. Claymore looked the boy in the eyes. I'm not a hero.
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He just raised the dead with coke and cheeseburgers
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A truly great artist has many talents.
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Jason muttered And I saw something...Really terrible. That was Hera, Thalia grumbled, Her Majesty, the Loose Cannon. That's it, Thalia Grace, Said the goddess. I will turn you into and aardvark, so help me- Stop it, you two, Piper said. Amazingly, they both shut up.
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The last thing I wanted to do was blow up another school.
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Traitor! Hera shouted. You meddlesome, D-list goddess! You aren't worthy to pour my wine, much less rule the world.
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glancing back I got my first clear look at the monster. He was seven feet tall, easy, his arms and legs like something from the cover of Muscle Man magazine-bulging biceps and triceps and a bunch of other 'ceps, all stuffed like baseballs under vein-webbed skin. He wore no clothes except underwear-I mean, bright white fruit of the Looms.
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Deadlines just aren't real to me until I'm staring one in the face.
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Just his luck he was related to this grubby old dude. He hoped all sons of Neptune didn't share the same fate. First, you start carrying a man satchel. Next thing you know, you're running around in a bathrobe and pink bunny slippers, chasing chickens with a weed whacker.
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Jason always tried to build a good relationship with his team. He'd learned the hard way that if somebody was going to have your back in a fight, it was better if you found some common ground and trusted each other. But Nico wasn't easy to figure out.
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Our secret weapon, Khione! We're not just a bunch of demigods. We're a team.
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Akhlys lunged at Percy, and for a split second he thought: Well, hey, I’m just smoke. She can’t touch me, right? He imagined the Fates up in Olympus, laughing at his wishful thinking: LOL, NOOB!
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What about a compromise? I’ll kill them first, and if it turns out they were friendly, I’ll apologize.
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Right before the game, she strolled up to me. Hey, Seaweed Brain. Will you stop calling me that? She knows I hate that name, mostly because I never have a good comeback. She's the daughter of Athena, which doesn't give me a lot of ammunition. I mean, Owl-head and Wise Girl are kind of lame insults.
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You think it's okay that we're eating Rudolph? Dude, Percy said, I could eat Prancer and Blitzen, too. I'm HUNGRY.
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