Percy: Don't I get a kiss for luck? It's kind of a tradition, right? Annabeth: Come back alive, Seaweed Brain. Then we'll see.

Elections only happen in two ways," Reyna said. "Either the legion raises someone on a shield after a major success on the battlefield-and we haven't had any major battles-or we hold a ballot on the evening of June 24, at the Feast of Fortuna. That's in five days." Percy frowned. "You have a feast for tuna?

He could't have survied a hundred foot drop. I'm sorry Annabeth.

Cabin Fifteen does that to everyone," Annabeth warned. "If you ask me, this place is even more dangerous than the Ares cabin. At least with Ares, you can learn where the land mines are." "Land mines?

When I was alive, I mean the first time, Mussolini was in charge. We were at war.” “Mussolini?” Leo frowned. “Wasn’t he like BFFs with Hitler?

Ceres wanted a united front in the plant war." "The plant war," Percy said. "You're going to arm all the little grapes with tiny assault rifles?

I haven't devoured a soul in...What month is this? March?