The Tyrant's Tomb (The Trials of Apollo, #4)

by Rick Riordan

When would people realize that just because I was the god of prophecy it didn’t mean I understood prophecies? I was also the god of poetry. Did I understand the metaphors in T. S. Eliot’s The Waste Land? No.

Oh, Jason Grace … I promised you I would remember what it was to be human. But why did human shame have to hurt so much? Why wasn’t there an off button?

In that moment, as she rejected me utterly, Reyna had never seemed more beautiful and desirable. Funny how that works.

‘It can’t be that easy to make a new god.’ ‘Never underestimate the power of thousands of human minds all believing the same thing. They can remake reality. Sometimes for the better, sometimes not.’

I tried to remember which of the gods had created the human conscience. Had we created it, or had humans just developed it on their own? Giving mortals a sense of decency didn’t seem like the sort of thing a god would brag about on their profile page.

Also, picking one god meant all the other gods would be mad at me. It didn’t matter if they wouldn’t have wanted to help me or would’ve laughed in my face if I’d asked. They would still be offended that I hadn’t put them at the top of my list. I knew how they thought. I used to be one of them.

hate it when megalomaniac villains make valid points.