Quote

No, Frank said. I'm only a centurion. Jason cursed in Latin. He means he can't control a whole legion. He's not of high enough rank. Nico swung back his black sword at another gryphon. Well, then, promote him!

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
Well
Latin
Hades
Whole
Control
Legion
Enough
High
Sword
Mean
Means
Jason
Black
Cursed
Another
Rank
Back
Promote
Nico
Wells
Frank
Swung

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Even little Herley, who couldn't have been more than eight, looked like he could go six rounds with Chuck Norris without breaking a sweat.
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There were a lot of answers I might've given, from I knew that to LIAR! to Yeah right, and I'm Zeus. - Percy, after Quintus says that he is Daedalus
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She was beautiful in combat. I know that’s a crazy thing to say, especially after we’d just climbed a sewage waterfall, but her gray eyes sparkled when she was fighting for her life. Her face shone like a goddess’s, and believe me, I’ve seen goddesses. The way her Camp Half-Blood beads rested against her throat—Okay, sorry. Got a little distracted.
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Sugar and caffeine. My willpower crumbled.
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I couldn't believe I'd come this far, lost Tyson, suffered through so much, only to fail - stopped by a big stupid monster in a baby-blue tuxedo kilt. Nobody was going to swat down my friends like that! I mean... nobody, not Nobody. Ah, you know what I mean.
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He scowled at Jason. And please, I don't like being touched. Don't ever grab me again.
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For what it’s worth: trust your feelings. I can’t promise that you’ll never get hurt again, but I can promise you the risk is worth it.
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Run!” Piper said. “We are running!” Jason picked up the speed. “Run better!” Leo shouted.
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A Half-Blood of the eldest gods, Shall reach sixteen against all odds And see the world in endless sleep The Hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap A single choice shall end his days Olympus to preserve or raze.
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He was beautiful the way an angel is beautiful - timeless, perfect, remote.
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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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Knowledge isn't always good for you.
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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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And I was holding someone who was destined to be my best friend, or possibly my worst enemy.
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Beckendorf, whose legs were now working fine (nothing like being chased by a huge monster to get your body back in order) shook his head and gasped for breath. “You shouldn’t have turned it on! It’s unstable! After a few years, automatons go wild!
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Annabeth sat up and glared at her ankle. You HAD to break, she scolded it. The ankle did not reply.
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There was Tyson moving into the Poseidon cabin, giggling to himself every fifteen seconds and saying, Percy is my brother? like he'd just won the lottery. Aw, Tyson, I'd say. It's not that simple.
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