Hey! Guy with scary eyes?" Madison called out. "You know what a moose does when someone insults her family?" Ivan raised his eyebrows. "She does this." Madison crouched down and charged Ivan. Her head hit him in the stomach.

Annabeth sat up and glared at her ankle. "You HAD to break," she scolded it. The ankle did not reply.

My face felt like my normal face, as if that part of me hadn’t transformed into a bird. [Fine, Sadie. Call me the Carter-headed chicken. Happy?]

I think every writer struggles in some way with writers block. The trick is to plan out what you are going to say beforehand. I found out that if you make an outline you're much less likely to get blocked when you get into the middle of the story.

My dear young cousin, if there's one thing I've learned over the eons, it's that you can't give up on your family, no matter how tempting they make it.

Back in Khufu's day I knew a magician who parted the Nile just so he could climb to the bottom and retrieve a girl's necklace. Then there was that Israelite fellow, Mickey." "Moses?" "Yeah, him.

Percy was not feeling the love.