The Sword of Summer (Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard, #1)

by Rick Riordan

“He’d learn magic,” I guessed, “but he would stay the way he is—deaf and dumb, hated by his own parents.

“Mimir just presented the choices. Magic and normal life are mutually exclusive. Only people who have known great pain have the capacity to learn magic. They have to be like hollow cups.

Like anyone pursuing greatness/success. You can't reach the pinnacle without digging yourself out of pits along the way.

“Odin pierced his side with his own spear and hung there in pain, without food or water, until the runes revealed themselves. The pain made him hollow…a receptacle for magic.”

The pain made him forget all the extra/fluff/chaff/superfluous. When that fell away his focus became total on a solitary thing (runes) and then he was able to succeed.

How could anyone willingly choose to hold on to that much pain? What kind of magic could possibly be worth the cost?

And most people aren't willing to brave the pain, so they'll never succeed.

You were born with your magic—an inheritance from your father. You can’t choose your abilities or change them.

Life isn't "fair". Everyone is dealt a different hand. Complaining/Excuses/Whining/Blame = Failure Finding a way to triumph over the unfairness = Success.

Alf seidr is innate. It’s also lesser magic compared to what the runes can do.”

Similar to "Talent counts, but grit counts twice."

“the runes are the secret language of the universe. Learning them, you can recode reality. The only limits on your magic are your strength and your imagination.”

Runes = Thoughts

don’t more people learn runes?” “That’s what I’ve been telling you. It requires incredible sacrifice. Most people would die before they got as far as Hearthstone has.”

I understood now why he’d been willing to risk rune magic. To a guy with his troubled past, recoding reality...

Hearth made himself an empty cup,” I said. “Like perthro.”

I still wasn’t sure why Hearthstone had given it to me, but I felt a strong instinct to keep it for him—if only temporarily. No one should carry that kind of fate alone.

Service to others rather than narcissistic self-involvement Understanding pain/Empathy -> Shouldering/Sharing a burden

In places the snow was so deep we had to hop from boulder to boulder while Otis the goat speculated about which one of us would slip, fall, and die first.

Negative Nancy

“Probably my fault,” Otis offered. “I should’ve saved you earlier, but giving a human mouth-to-mouth—I had to work up my nerve. My therapist gave me some breathing exercises—”

“I know what it feels like to be an empty cup, to have everything taken away from you. But you’re not alone. However much magic you need to use, it’s okay. We’ve got you. We’re your family.”

WOLF-WATCHING CRUISE. TONIGHT ONLY! ONE RED GOLD PER PERSON! CHILDREN UNDER FIVE FREE!

Hearthstone practiced making his new staff appear and disappear. If he did it right, the staff shot into his hand out of nowhere, like a bouquet of flowers spring-loaded in a magician’s sleeve. If he did it wrong, he goosed Blitzen or whopped me upside the back of the head.

At my feet, the heather began to bloom—white flowers spreading across the landscape, reclaiming the trampled and burned areas where Surt’s warriors had walked, soaking up the blood, covering the corpses of the fallen giants. “The battle is over,” I announced. “I consecrate this ground in the name of Frey.” The words sent a shockwave in every direction. Swords, daggers, and axes flew from the fire giants’ hands. T.J.’s rifle spun from his grasp. Even the weapons lying on the ground were expelled from the island, blasted into the darkness like shrapnel. The only one left holding a weapon was me.

At my feet, the heather began to bloom—white flowers spreading across the landscape, reclaiming the trampled and burned areas where Surt’s warriors had walked, soaking up the blood, covering the corpses of the fallen giants. “The battle is over,” I announced. “I consecrate this ground in the name of Frey.” The words sent a shockwave in every direction. Swords, daggers, and axes flew from the fire giants’ hands. T.J.’s rifle spun from his grasp. Even the weapons lying on the ground were expelled from the island, blasted into the darkness like shrapnel. The only one left holding a weapon was me.

Blitzen and Hearthstone collapsed at the bow. They started arguing with each other about which of them had taken the stupider risks, but they were so tired the debate deteriorated into a halfhearted poking contest, like a couple of second graders.

I didn’t have patience for grudges. My years on the street had taught me that it was pointless to whine and moan about what you could’ve had—what you deserved, what was fair. I was just happy to have this moment.