Why are they so sad?” I asked. “Well, they’re dead,” Carter speculated.

Together we made our way down to the street level. Neither of us said a word. The music was awful--Neil Diamond or something. I should've made that part of my gift form the gods: better elevator tunes.

We need a shroud. A shroud for the son of Hermes.

Um, Dues ex machina anyone?

I didn’t know baboons could drive recreational vehicles, but Khufu did okay. When I woke up around dawn, he was navigating through the early morning rush hour in Houston, baring his fangs and barking a lot, and none of the other drivers seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary.

It's not easy. I got lots of rejections when I first started out. If you want to write, you have to believe in yourself and not give up. You have to do your best to practice and get better.

Evil is easy to fight. Lack of wisdom...that is very hard indeed.