Writing is like a sport - you only get better if you practice

I frowned. “You mean Set’s got, like, other evil gods on speed dial?

I held out a lead figurine of Hades—the little Mythomagic statue Nico had abandoned when he fled camp last winter. Nico hesitated. "I don’t play that game anymore. It’s for kids." "It’s got four thousand attack power," I coaxed. "Five thousand," Nico corrected. "But only if your opponent attacks first." I smiled. "Maybe it’s okay to still be a kid once in a while.

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

When she kissed me, I had the feeling my brain was melting right through my body.

Do you have a favorite constalation, Percy?' I was still kind of wondering about the little green snakes he'd shoved into his jogging shorts, but i said. 'Uh, I like Hercules.' 'Why?' 'Well... because he had rotten luck. Even worse than mine. It makes me feel better." The jogger chuckled. 'Not because he was strong and famouse and all that?' 'No.

Where's the glory in repeating what others have done?