Quote

He [Death] pulled a pure-black iPad from thin air. Death tapped the screen a few times and all Frank could think was: Please don't let there be an app for reading souls

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
Soul
Souls
Ipad
Think
Air
Ipads
Thinking
Pure
Apps
Please
Pulled
Reading
Thin
Times
Frank
Black
Screen
Death
Screens
Tapped

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My name is Carter Kane. I'm fourteen and my home is a suitcase.
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Egypt is the First Nome. New York is the twenty-first. What’s the last one, the Three-hundred-and-sixtieth?” “That would be Antarctica,” Zia said. “A punishment assignment. Nothing there but a couple of cold magicians and some magic penguins.” “Magic penguins?” “Don’t ask.
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Hazel squinted. How far? Just over the river and through the woods. Percy raised an eyebrow. Seriously? To Grandmother's house we go? Frank cleared his throat. Yeah, anyway.
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Percy, my father said, what exactly do you mean? Kronos couldn't have risen if it hadn't been for a lot of demigods who felt abandoned by their parents, I said. They felt angry, resentful, and unloved, and they had a good reason.
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Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tyson pounding the Earthborn into the ground like a game of whack-a-mole. Ella was fluttering above him, dodging missiles and calling out advice: The groin. The Earthborn's groin is sensitive. SMASH! Good. Yes. Tyson found its groin.
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Now, now, Bast said. It's not so bad. Right, I said. We're stuck in Washington, D.C. We have two days to make it to Arizona and stop a god we don't know how to stop. And if we can't, we'll never see our dad or Amos again, and the world might end. That's the spirit! Bast said brightly. Now, let's have a picnic.
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Maybe if he did really well they'd give him some mouldy apples.
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Amos sipped his coffee. Sorry if that distubed you. Khufu's very picky. He only eats foods that end in -o. Doritos, burritos, flamingos. I blinked. Did you say- Carter, Sadie warned. She looked a little queasy, like she'd already had this conversation. Don't ask.
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You must forge your own path for it to mean anything.
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Frank imitated the voice of Vitellius: 'They're wimps! Back in my day, we died all the time, and we liked it!
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Eat bitter, taste sweet
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What are you thinking? Nothing. I mean...a lot of things. Kind of all at once.
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I looked into his eyes, and I realized he was the same man I'd seen in my dreams. His face might be totally different, but the same soul was in there, the same intelligence and all the sadness.
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They're Lares. House gods. House gods, Percy said. Like...smaller than real gods, but larger than apartment gods?
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I will call him Small Bob, said Bob. He is a good monster. End of discussion.The Titan hefted his spear and they continued marching into the gloom.
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And you, Percy, are my favorite son.
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I think anytime you're writing to the middle grades, you're writing to young readers who are trapped in a number of ways between two worlds: between childhood and adulthood, between their friends and their parents.
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A hero can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as he has the nerve.
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Great, Percy said. Seven of us against Hercules. And a satyr! Hedge added. We can take him.
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A general never shows despair. He instills confidence in his troops. He leads them forward, even into the mouth of death.
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