Terminus sniffed. “I guard borders. I don’t kill giants. It’s not in my job description.

How does it taste?” Carter wondered. Zia smiled. “Stick out your tongue.” To answer Carter’s question, the tattoo tasted like burning car tires. “Ugh.” I spit a blue gob of “order and harmony” into the fountain.

Piper!” Frank yelled. “Counter those empousai! We need some chaos.” “Thought you’d never ask.” She started catcalling at the female demons: “Your makeup is smeared! Your friend called you ugly! That one is making a face behind your back!

I am never, ever, going to make things easy for you, Seaweed Brain. Get used to it.

The Olympians were a reminder that there was always someone better than you, so you shouldn't get a big head.

Maybe if he did really well they'd give him some mouldy apples.

For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across--hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me.