koby > koby's Quotes

“I—I don’t know where I’ve been,” I admitted. “I have some memory gaps.” Percy winced. “I hate memory gaps. Last year I lost an entire semester thanks to Hera.” “Ah, yes.” I couldn’t quite remember what Percy Jackson was talking about. During the war with Gaea, I had been focused mostly on my own fabulous exploits. But I suppose he and his friends had undergone a few minor hardships.”
― Rick Riordan, The Hidden Oracle

“Oh!” I said. “Um…Nah.” I leaned against the wall, hoping to look casual, attractive, and suave. Unfortunately, I missed the wall.”
― Rick Riordan, The Dark Prophecy

“Apollo.” Emmie pointed over my head, where griffin nests lined the edge of the ceiling. “You have a visitor.” In order to see who Emmie was pointing at, I had to step forward onto the rug and turn around. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have done that. As soon as I placed my foot on the rug, I thought, Wait, was this rug here before? Which was followed closely by the thought: Why does this rug look like a tightly woven net? Followed by: This is a net. Followed by: YIKES!”
― Rick Riordan, The Dark Prophecy

“Gale peeked out from behind Hazel’s feet and started chattering. The coach looked offended. He chattered back at the weasel. They had what sounded like a very intense argument. “What did she say?” Hazel asked. “A lot of rude things,” grumbled the satyr. “The gist of it: she’s here to see how it goes.” “How what goes?” Coach Hedge stomped his hoof. “How am I supposed to know? She’s a polecat! They never give a straight answer. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got, uh, stuff…” He closed the door in her face.”
― Rick Riordan, The House of Hades

“I felt a bit silly giving this advice to a girl who regularly fought monsters with golden swords, but I had promised Bill Nye the Science Guy I would always promote safe laboratory practices.”
― Rick Riordan, The Dark Prophecy

“Exploding toilets? Heard about that one. Son of Poseidon claimed in a stream during capture the flag? Got the details courtesy of Zephyros Creek. Underwater kiss? Canoe Lake gushed about it for days afterward.”
― Rick Riordan, Camp Half-Blood Confidential: Your Real Guide to the Demigod Training Camp

“Things were about to get ugly when a waterspout erupted off the port bow. Atop the column of spume sat an old man with fins instead of arms, and a fish tail instead of legs. “It’s Poseidon!” yelled Zetes. “It’s Oceanus!” said Atalanta. “It’s that guy from The Little Mermaid!” said Orpheus. The merman sighed and flapped his arm-fins. “Actually, I’m Glaucus. But don’t worry. No one ever gets that right.” The Argonauts muttered among themselves, trying to figure out who Glaucus was. “Oh my gods!” the ship’s prow said. “You people are embarrassing me! Glaucus was a fisherman who ate some magic herbs and became immortal. Now he’s like the Delphic Oracle of the sea!” “Ohhhh.” The crew all nodded like they knew what the prow was talking about.”
― Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson's Greek Heroes

“Peaches?” demanded Peaches. “Yes,” I groaned. “We need to get her to Indianapolis quickly. If you and your friends…Um, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Apollo.” Peaches pointed to his friend on the right. “Peaches.” Then to the baby demon on his left. “Peaches.”
― Rick Riordan, The Dark Prophecy

“The bad news: just outside the city limits, I got pulled over by the police. Oh, the miserable luck! The officer stopped us for no good reason that I could see. At first I feared he might be a blemmyae, but he was not nearly polite enough. He frowned at my license. “This is a junior driver’s license from New York, kid. What are you doing driving a car like this? Where are your parents, and where’re you taking this little girl?” I was tempted to explain that I was a four-thousand-year-old deity with plenty of experience driving the sun, my parents were in the celestial realm, and the little girl was my demigod master. “She is my—” “Little sister,” Meg chimed in. “He’s taking me to piano lessons.” “Uh, yes,” I agreed. “And we’re late!” Meg waggled her fingers in a way that did not at all resemble playing the piano. “Because my brother is stooo-pid.” The officer frowned. “Wait here.” He walked to his patrol car, perhaps to run my license through his computer or to call for SWAT backup. “Your brother?” I asked Meg. “Piano lessons?” “The stupid part was true.”
― Rick Riordan, The Dark Prophecy

“THE EMPEROR’S road sign was easy enough to spot: ADOPT-A-HIGHWAY NEXT FIVE MILES SPONSORED BY: TRIUMVIRATE HOLDINGS Commodus and his colleagues may have been power-hungry murderers bent on world domination, but at least they cared about cleaning up litter.”
― Rick Riordan, The Dark Prophecy

“What is that instrument?” Aly asked the head guard. When he returned a blank stare, she pantomimed playing the instrument. “A zither?” “Santur,” he said.”
― Peter Lerangis, Lost in Babylon

“Daria,” the girl said, pointing to herself. “My name is Jack,” I said. “His name is Marco, her name is Aly, his is Cass.” “Nyme-iz-Zack . . . ” As she spoke, her face puckered as if tasting mango-chili ice cream. Pointing to herself again, she said, “His nyme-iz Daria.” “Your name is Daria,” I said. “My name is Jack. His name is Marco . . . Aly . . .” I pointed to the king. “Um, Nabu-na’id?”
― Peter Lerangis, Lost in Babylon

“Welcome to Paradise,” Marco said softly. “Paradise Prison.”
― Peter Lerangis, Lost in Babylon

“I HAVEN’T HAD the Dream in a long time. But it’s back. And it’s changed. It does not begin as it always has, with the chase. The woods. The mad swooping of the griffins and the charge of the hose-beaked vromaski. The volcano about to erupt. The woman calling my name. The rift that opens in the ground before me. The fall into the void. The fall, where it always ends. Not this time. This time, these things are behind me. This time, it begins at the bottom. I am outside my own body. I am in a nanosecond frozen in time. I feel no pain. I feel nothing. I see someone below, twisted and motionless. The person is Jack. Jack of the Dream. But being outside it, I see that the body is not mine. Not the same face. As if, in these Dreams, I have been dwelling inside a stranger. I see small woodland creatures, fallen and motionless, strewn around the body. The earth shakes. High above, griffins cackle. Water trickles beneath the body now. It pools around the head and hips. And the nanosecond ends. The scene changes. I am no longer outside the body but in. Deep in. The shock of reentry is white-hot. It paralyzes every molecule, short-circuiting my senses. Sight, touch, hearing—all of them join in one huge barbaric scream of STOP. The water fills my ear, trickles down my neck and chest. It freezes and pricks. It soothes and heals. It is taking hold of the pain, drawing it away. Drawing out death and bringing life. I breathe. My flattened body inflates. I see. Smell. Hear. I am aware of the soil ground into my skin, the carcasses all around, the black clouds lowering overhead. The thunder and shaking of the earth. I blink the grit from my eyes and struggle to rise. I have fallen into a crevice. The cracked earth is a vertical wall before me. And the wall contains a hole, a kind of door into the earth. I see dim light within. I stand on shaking legs. I feel the snap of shattered bones knitting themselves together. One step. Two. With each it becomes easier. Entering the hole, I hear music. The Song of the Heptakiklos. The sound that seems to play my soul like a guitar. I draw near the light. It is inside a vast, round room, an underground chamber. I enter, lifted on a column of air. At the other side I see someone hunched over. The white lambda in his hair flashes in the reflected torch fire. I call to him and he turns. He looks like me. Beside him is an enormous satchel, full to bursting. Behind him is the Heptakiklos. Seven round indentations in the earth. All empty.”
― Peter Lerangis, Lost in Babylon

“Dude, you remember how to do long division?” Marco said. “You never got a calculator?”
― Peter Lerangis, Lost in Babylon

“THE SNAKE-HAIRED LADIES WERE starting to annoy Percy.”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

“Stheno’s smile wavered. “But, Euryale…” She said the name so it rhymed with Muriel. “Can’t I give him a sample first?”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

“As he fell toward the highway, a horrible scenario flashed through his mind: his body smashing against an SUV's windshield, some annoyed commuter trying to push him off with the wipers. "Stupid 16-year-old kid falling from the sky! I'm late!”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

“Hello! My name is DIE, DEMIGOD SCUM!”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

“Percy thrust out his hands. An intense tugging sensation filled his gut, and the Tiber obeyed his will. The river surged. Whirlpools formed on either side of Frank. Giant watery hands erupted from the stream, copying Percy’s movements. The giant hands grabbed the gorgons, who dropped Frank in surprise. Then the hands lifted the squawking monsters in a liquid vise grip.”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

“House gods,” Percy said. “Like…smaller than real gods, but larger than apartment gods?”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

“A street sign labeled the road to the main gates as VIA PRAETORIA. The other road, cutting across the middle of camp, was labeled via principalis. Under those markers were hand-painted signs like BERKELEY 5 MILES; NEW ROME 1 MILE; OLD ROME 7280 MILES; HADES 2310 MILES (pointing straight down); RENO 208 MILES, and CERTAIN DEATH: YOU ARE HERE!”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

“If you spent that many years on your own, without training or help, you should be dead. A son of Neptune? You’d have a powerful aura that would attract all kinds of monsters.” “Yeah,” Percy said. “I’ve been told that I smell.” Reyna almost cracked a smile, which gave Percy hope. Maybe she was human after all.”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

“He trotted over with a big grin on his face. He wore a faded Hawaiian shirt and nothing for pants except thick brown goat fur. His massive Afro jiggled. His eyes were hidden behind little round rainbow-tinted glasses. He held a cardboard sign that read: WILL WORK SING TALK GO AWAY FOR DENARII. “Hi, Don,” Hazel said. “Sorry, we don’t have time—” “Oh, that’s cool! That’s cool!” Don trotted along with them. “Hey, this guy’s new!” He grinned at Percy. “Do you have three denarii for the bus? Because I left my wallet at home, and I’ve got to get to work, and—” “Don,” Hazel chided. “Fauns don’t have wallets. Or jobs. Or homes. And we don’t have buses.” “Right,” he said cheerfully, “but do you have denarii?”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

“Oh, Hazel is awesome,” Don said. “She’s so nice! All the other campers are like, ‘Go away, Don.’ But she’s like, ‘Please go away, Don.’ I love her!”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

“Percy didn’t think that was it, but he couldn’t pin down the memory. “Why did you call me ‘the Greek’?” “I saw it in the auguries.” Octavian waved his knife at the pile of stuffing on the altar. “The message said: The Greek has arrived. Or possibly: The goose has cried. I’m thinking the first interpretation is correct. You seek to join the legion?”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

“Hazel led Percy to a black crypt built into the side of the hill. Standing in front was a teenage boy in black jeans and an aviator jacket. “Hey,” Hazel called. “I’ve brought a friend.” The boy turned. Percy had another one of those weird flashes: like this was somebody he should know. The kid was almost as pale as Octavian, but with dark eyes and messy black hair. He didn’t look anything like Hazel. He wore a silver skull ring, a chain for a belt, and a black T-shirt with skull designs. At his side hung a pure-black sword. For a microsecond when he saw Percy, the boy seemed shocked—panicked even, like he’d been caught in a searchlight. “This is Percy Jackson,” Hazel said. “He’s a good guy. Percy, this is my brother, the son of Pluto.” The boy regained his composure and held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you,” he said. “I’m Nico di Angelo.”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

“Last summer,” Nico continued, “Saturn tried to make a comeback. There was a second Titan war. The Romans at Camp Jupiter stormed his headquarters on Mount Othrys, across the bay, and destroyed his throne. Saturn disappeared—” He hesitated, watching Percy’s face. Hazel got the feeling her brother was nervous that more of Percy’s memory might come back. “Um, anyway,” Nico continued, “Saturn probably faded back to the abyss.”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

“Just for fun, they tried to speak French to each other. Hazel had some Creole blood on her mother’s side. Frank had taken French in school. Neither of them was very fluent, and Louisiana French was so different from Canadian French it was almost impossible to converse. When Frank asked Hazel how her beef was feeling today, and she replied that his shoe was green, they decided to give up.”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

“As for archers,” the ghost said, “they’re wimps! Back in my day, archery was a job for barbarians. A good Roman should be in the fray, gutting his enemy with spear and sword like a civilized man! That’s how we did it in the Punic Wars. Roman up, boy!” Frank sighed. “I thought you were in Caesar’s army.” “I was!” “Vitellius, Caesar was hundreds of years after the Punic Wars. You couldn’t have been alive that long.” “Questioning my honor?” Vitellius looked so mad, his purple aura glowed. He drew his ghostly gladius and yelled, “Take that!” He ran the sword, which was about as deadly as a laser pointer, through Frank’s chest a few times. “Ouch,” Frank said, just to be nice.”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune