It's not bad enough I am exiled? It's not bad enough you take away the few good heroes I'm allowed to meet? You think it's funny to send me this this ― this charbroiled runt of a boy to ruin my tranquility? This is NOT FUNNY! Take him back!

Is Tyson okay?" I asked. The question seemed to take my dad by surprise. He's fine. Doing much better than I expected. Though "peanut butter" is a strange battle cry. "You let him fight?" Stop changing the subject! You realize what you are asking me to do? My palace will be destroyed. "And Olympus might be saved." Do you have any idea how long I've worked on remodeling this palace? The game room alone took six hundred years. "Dad—" Very well! It shall be as you say. But my son, pray this works. "I am praying. I'm talking to you, right?" Oh . . . yes. Good point.

They're Lares. House gods." "House gods," Percy said. "Like...smaller than real gods, but larger than apartment gods?

One basketball to rule them all,” Leo muttered.

Frank Zhang! I, Jason Grace, praetor of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata, give you my final order: I resign my post and give you emergency field promotion to praetor, with the full powers of that rank. Take command of this legion!

Back when I was on my first assignment as a seeker, I was way out in Arizona. Brought in this kid named Clarisse.” “Clarisse?” “Sibling of yours,” Hedge said. “Ares kid. Violent. Rude. Lots of potential.

Everyone hates clowns," Otis said. "Even other clowns hate clowns.