The Hidden Oracle (The Trials of Apollo, #1)

by Rick Riordan

I kept reaching for memories that weren’t there, trying to plunge into my vast lake of knowledge only to find it had been reduced to a kiddie pool. You simply can’t do much with a kiddie pool brain.

A boy in the crowd gasped. “She’s a communist!” A girl who’d been sitting at Cabin Four’s table gave him a disgusted sneer. “No, Damien, that’s my mom’s symbol.” Her face went slack as the truth sank in. “Uh, which means…it’s her mom’s symbol.”

Exercise is nothing more than a depressing reminder that one is not a god.

Nothing is more tragic than loving someone to the depths of your soul and knowing they cannot and will not ever love you back.

Some carried fallen trees. One, inexplicably, was dragging a 1967 Chevy Impala.

“You guys go,” Will told me. “The chariot is only designed for three, and after that shadow-travel, Nico is going to pass out any second.” “No, I’m not,” Nico complained, then passed out.