Knowledge of any value can't be given. It must be sought and earned

They're Lares. House gods." "House gods," Percy said. "Like...smaller than real gods, but larger than apartment gods?

My eighth grade teacher, Mrs. Pabst, had done her master's thesis on Tolkien. She showed me how the trilogy was patterned after Norse mythology. She was also the first person to encourage me to submit stories for publication. The idea of writing a fantasy based on myths never left me, and many years later, this would lead me to write Percy Jackson.

He remembered his home now, and that gave him new determination to succeed. He was fighting for two camps now -- two families.

If I'm dead," he murmured. "Why does it hurt so much?

Liz cleared her throat. "Isn't there a more polite term we're supposed to use nowadays? Like....little person, or vertically challenged,or-" "I'm not going to call myself the god of vertically challenged people," Bes grumbled. "I'm a dwarf!

Two hundred Romans, and no one’s got a pen? Never mind!" He slung his M16 onto his back and pulled out a hand grenade. There were many screaming Romans. Then the hand grenade morphed into a ballpoint pen, and Mars began to write. Frank looked at Percy with wide eyes. He mouthed: Can your sword do grenade form? Percy mouthed back, No. Shut up.