Chloe Lydia > Chloe Lydia's Quotes

“Annabeth gripped the hilt of her dagger. “A bounty on our heads . . . as if we didn’t attract enough monsters already.”
“Do we get WANTED posters?” Leo asked. “And do they have our bounties, like, broken down on a price list?”
Hazel wrinkled her nose. “What are you talking about?”
“Just wondering how much I’m going for these days,” Leo said. “I mean, I can understand not being as pricey as Percy or Jason, maybe . . . but am I worth, like, two Franks, or three Franks?”
― Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena

“Leo drummed his fingers. “Great. I should have installed a smoke screen that makes the ship smell like a giant chicken nugget. Remind me to invent that, next time.”
Hazel frowned. “What is a chicken nugget?”
“Oh, man…” Leo shook his head in amazement. “That's right. You’ve missed the last, like, seventy years. Well, my apprentice, a chicken nugget—”
“Doesn’t matter,” Annabeth interrupted.”
― Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena

“Once the others were below, Hazel and Leo faced each other awkwardly. They were alone except for Coach Hedge, who was back on the quarterdeck singing the Pokémon theme song. The coach had changed the words to: Gotta Kill ’Em All, and Leo really didn’t want to know why.”
― Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena

“Part of their problem was Percy. He fought like a demon, whirling through the defender's ranks in a completely unorthodox style, rolling under their feet, slashing with his sword instead of stabbing like a Roman would, whacking campers with the flat of his blade, and generally causing mass panic.”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

“[Piper] rushed to get dressed. By the time she got up on deck, the others had already gathered—all hastily dressed except for Coach Hedge, who had pulled the night watch.
Frank’s Vancouver Winter Olympics shirt was inside out. Percy wore pajama pants and a bronze breastplate, which was an interesting fashion statement. Hazel’s hair was all blown to one side as though she’d walked through a cyclone; and Leo had accidentally set himself on fire. His T-shirt was in charred tatters. His arms were smoking.”
― Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena

“Aphrodite,” [Annabeth] said.
“Venus?” Hazel asked in amazement.
“Mom,” Piper said with no enthusiasm.
“Girls!” The goddess spread her arms like she wanted a group hug.
The three demigods did not oblige. Hazel backed into a palmetto tree.”
― Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena

“Oh, by the way…” Jason glanced at Percy. “I resigned my office, gave Frank a field promotion to praetor. Unless you want to contest that ruling.”

Percy grinned. “No argument here.”

“Praetor?” Hazel stared at Frank.

He shrugged uncomfortably. “Well… yeah. I know it seems weird.” She tried to throw her arms around him, then winced as she remembered her busted ribs. She settled for kissing him. “It seems perfect.”

Leo clapped Frank on the shoulder. “Way to go, Zhang. Now you can order Octavian to fall on his sword.”
― Rick Riordan, The House of Hades

“Stop!" Narcissus got to his feet. "This is not right! This person is obviously not awesome, so he must be..." He struggled for the right words. It had probably been a long time since he'd talked about anything other than himself. "He must be tricking us."

Apparently Narcissus wasn't completely stupid.”
― rick riordan, The Mark of Athena

“Hazel!” he yelled. “That box! Open it!”
She hesitated, then saw the box he meant. Te label read WARNING. DO NOT OPEN.
“Open it!” Leo yelled again.”
― Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena

“Hey.” [Leo] squeezed her hand, though Hazel sensed nothing romantic in the gesture. “Machines are designed to work.”
“Uh, what?”
“I figure the universe is basically like a machine. I don’t know who made it, if it was the Fates, or the gods, or capital-G God, or whatever. But it chugs along the way it’s supposed to most of the time. Sure, little pieces break and stuff goes haywire once in a while, but mostly . . . things happen for a reason. Like you and me meeting.”
“Leo Valdez,” Hazel marveled, “you’re a philosopher.”
― Rick Riordan, The House of Hades

“We still should have enough time to reach Rome.”
Hazel scowled. “When you say should have enough…”
Leo shrugged. “How do you feel about barely enough?”
Hazel put her face in her hands for a count of three. “Sounds about typical for us.”
― Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena

“No!" Leo yelled.
"Uhhh," Nico groaned from the floor.
"Piper!" Jason cried.
"Monkey!" Frank yelled.
"Not monkeys," Hazel grumbled. "I think those are dwarfs."
"Stealing my stuff!" Leo yelled, and ran for the stairs.”
― Rick Riordan

“When I was alive, I mean the first time, Mussolini was in charge. We were at war.”
“Mussolini?” Leo frowned. “Wasn’t he like BFFs with Hitler?”
― Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena

“Schist," said an angry voice from the grass. Hazel raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?" "Schist! Big pile of schist!”
― Rick Riordan , The Son of Neptune

“Nico and Hazel exchanged looks. They both knew better, but they said nothing.”
― Rick Riordan, The Blood of Olympus

“Yes!" Narissus unslung his bow and grabbed an arrow from his dusty quiver. "The first one who get that bronze, I will like you almost as much as I like me. I might even kiss you, right after I kiss my reflection!"

"Oh my gods!" the nymphs squealed.”
― Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena

“I'm not choosing one of your paths, I'm making one of my own.”
― Rick Riordan, The House of Hades

“Hazel studied Reyna’s outfit with concern. “Your sword’s in the truck. Don’t you want to take a shield or something?”
“Nah. I’ve got my cloak. It’ll turn aside most weapons.” Reyna brushed the collar of her sweater wrap. Instantly it unfurled into her usual purple cape.
Frank’s smile faded. “Does my cloak do that?”
“See you, guys!” Reyna climbed behind the wheel.
“Wait, does my cloak deflect weapons?” Frank called after us. “Does mine turn into a sweater wrap?”
As we pulled away, I could see Frank Zhang in the rearview mirror, intently studying the stitching of his cape.”
― Rick Riordan, The Tyrant’s Tomb

“I keeled over sideways.
The world turned fluffy, bleached of all color. Nothing hurt anymore.
I was dimly aware of Diana’s face hovering over me, Meg and Hazel peering over the goddess’s shoulders.
“He’s almost gone,” Diana said.
Then I was gone. My mind slipped into a pool of cold, slimy darkness.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” My sister’s voice woke me rudely.
I’d been so comfortable, so nonexistent.
Life surged back into me—cold, sharp, and unfairly painful. Diana’s face came into focus. She looked annoyed, which seemed on-brand for her.
As for me, I felt surprisingly good. The pain in my gut was gone. My muscles didn’t burn. I could breathe without difficulty. I must have slept for decades.
“H-how long was I out?” I croaked.
“Roughly three seconds,” she said. “Now, get up, drama queen.”
She helped me to my feet. I felt a bit unsteady, but I was delighted to find that my legs had any strength at all. My skin was no longer gray. The lines of infection were gone. The Arrow of Dodona was still in my hand, though he had gone silent, perhaps in awe of the goddess’s presence. Or perhaps he was still trying to get the taste of “Sweet Caroline” out of his imaginary mouth.
I beamed at my sister. It was so good to see her disapproving I-can’t-believe-you’re-my-brother frown again. “I love you,” I said, my voice hoarse with emotion.
She blinked, clearly unsure what to do with this information. “You really have changed.”
“I missed you!”
“Y-yes, well. I’m here now. Even Dad couldn’t argue with a Sibylline invocation from Temple Hill.”
“It worked, then!” I grinned at Hazel and Meg. “It worked!”
“Yeah,” Meg said wearily. “Hi, Artemis.”
“Diana,” my sister corrected. “But hello, Meg.” For her, my sister had a smile. “You’ve done well, young warrior.”
Meg blushed. She kicked at the scattered zombie dust on the floor and shrugged. “Eh.”
I checked my stomach, which was easy, since my shirt was in tatters. The bandages had vanished, along with the festering wound. Only a thin white scar remained. “So…I’m healed?” My flab told me she hadn’t restored me to my godly self. Nah, that would have been too much to expect.
Diana raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m not the goddess of healing, but I’m still a goddess. I think I can take care of my little brother’s boo-boos.”
“Little brother?”
She smirked.”
― Rick Riordan, The Tyrant’s Tomb

“sometimes sharing a problem doesn't make it easier to carry”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

“This young woman,” said Diana, “was responsible for the destruction of the Triumvirate’s fleet.”
“Well, I had a lot of help,” Lavinia said.
“I don’t understand,” I said, turning to Lavinia. “You made all those mortars malfunction?”
Lavinia looked offended. “Well, yeah. Somebody had to stop the fleet. I did pay attention during siege-weapon class and ship-boarding class. It wasn’t that hard. All it took was a little fancy footwork.”
Hazel finally managed to pick her jaw off the pavement. “Wasn’t that hard?”
“We were motivated! The fauns and dryads did great.” She paused, her expression momentarily clouding, as if she remembered something unpleasant. “Um…besides, the Nereids helped a lot. There was only a skeleton crew aboard each yacht. Not, like, actual skeletons, but—you know what I mean. Also, look!”
She pointed proudly at her feet, which were now adorned with the shoes of Terpsichore from Caligula’s private collection.
“You mounted an amphibious assault on an enemy fleet,” I said, “for a pair of shoes.”
Lavinia huffed. “Not just for the shoes, obviously.” She tap-danced a routine that would’ve made Savion Glover proud. “Also to save the camp, and the nature spirits, and Michael Kahale’s commandos.”
Hazel held up her hands to stop the overflow of information. “Wait. Not to be a killjoy—I mean, you did an amazing thing!—but you still deserted your post, Lavinia. I certainly didn’t give you permission —”
“I was acting on praetor’s orders,” Lavinia said haughtily. “In fact, Reyna helped. She was knocked out for a while, healing, but she woke up in time to instill us with the power of Bellona, right before we boarded those ships. Made us all strong and stealthy and stuff.”
Hazel asked, “Is it true about Lavinia acting on your orders?”
Reyna glanced at our pink-haired friend. The praetor’s pained expression said something like, I respect you a lot, but I also hate you for being right.
“Yes,” Reyna managed to say. “Plan L was my idea. Lavinia and her friends acted on my orders. They performed heroically.”
Lavinia beamed. “See? I told you.”
The assembled crowd murmured in amazement, as if, after a day full of wonders, they had finally witnessed something that could not be explained.”
― Rick Riordan, The Tyrant’s Tomb

“Meg slashed through the last of Tarquin’s minions. That was a good thing, I thought distantly. I didn’t want her to die, too. Hazel stabbed Tarquin in the chest. The Roman king fell, howling in pain, ripping the sword hilt from Hazel’s grip. He collapsed against the information desk, clutching the blade with his skeletal hands.
Hazel stepped back, waiting for the zombie king to dissolve. Instead, Tarquin struggled to his feet, purple gas flickering weakly in his eye sockets.
“I have lived for millennia,” he snarled. “You could not kill me with a thousand tons of stone, Hazel Levesque. You will not kill me with a sword.”
I thought Hazel might fly at him and rip his skull off with her bare hands. Her rage was so palpable I could smell it like an approaching storm. Wait…I did smell an approaching storm, along with other forest scents: pine needles, morning dew on wildflowers, the breath of hunting dogs.
A large silver wolf licked my face. Lupa? A hallucination? No…a whole pack of the beasts had trotted into the store and were now sniffing the bookshelves and the piles of zombie dust.
Behind them, in the doorway, stood a girl who looked about twelve, her eyes silver-yellow, her auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was dressed for the hunt in a shimmering gray frock and leggings, a white bow in her hand. Her face was beautiful, serene, and as cold as the winter moon.
She nocked a silver arrow and met Hazel’s eyes, asking permission to finish her kill. Hazel nodded and stepped aside. The young girl aimed at Tarquin.
“Foul undead thing,” she said, her voice hard and bright with power. “When a good woman puts you down, you had best stay down.”
Her arrow lodged in the center of Tarquin’s forehead, splitting his frontal bone. The king stiffened. The tendrils of purple gas sputtered and dissipated. From the arrow’s point of entry, a ripple of fire the color of Christmas tinsel spread across Tarquin’s skull and down his body, disintegrating him utterly. His gold crown, the silver arrow, and Hazel’s sword all dropped to the floor.
I grinned at the newcomer. “Hey, Sis.”
― Rick Riordan, The Tyrant’s Tomb

“Getting a second life is one thing. Making it a better life, that’s the trick.”
― Rick Riordan, The Blood of Olympus

“Where can we find Tarquin?" she asked. What she meant was: Who can I kill to make myself feel better?

I knew the answer was no one.”
― Rick Riordan, The Tyrant’s Tomb

“Hazel's immortal steed, the lightning-fast Arion, gave me the side-eye and nickered as if to say, This fool ain’t no Apollo.
“Good to see you too, cuz,” I grumbled.”
― Rick Riordan, The Tyrant’s Tomb

“Why do I have to like a guy with a death wish?”
― Rick Riordan, The Tyrant’s Tomb

“Now-" she pointed at the coffin - "somebody want to tell me who's in there?"

I really didn't.
Not after I'd seen how Hazel skewered her enemiess.
Still... I owed it to Jason. Hazel had been his friend.
I steeled my nerves, opened my mouth to speak, and was beaten to the punchline by Hazel herself.
"It's Jason," she said as if the information had been whispered in her ear. "Oh gods."

She ran to the coffin. She fell to her knees and threw her arms across the lid. She let out a single devastated sob. Then she lowered her head and shivered in silence.”
― Rick Riordan, The Tyrant’s Tomb

“I'm so angry with you. Doing this to Piper. To us. Not letting us be there for you. What were you thinking?"

It took me a moment to realise she wasn't talking to us. She was speaking to Jason.”
― Rick Riordan, The Tyrant’s Tomb

“It looks like a seagull’s face,” Percy said. “And we’re the eye.”
Hazel glared at him. “It’s a map, Percy.”
(...)
She drew a dotted line between the two X’s.
“You just cut off the seagull’s head,” Percy noted.
Hazel sighed.”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

“All around the Romans, Charleston Harbor erupted like a Las Vegas fountain putting on a show. When the wall of seawater subsided, the three Romans were in the bay, spluttering and frantically trying to stay afloat in their armor. Percy stood on the dock, holding Annabeth’s dagger.
“You dropped this,” he said, totally poker-faced.
Annabeth threw her arms around him. “I love you!”
“Guys,” Hazel interrupted. She had a little smile on her face. “We need to hurry.”
Down in the water, Octavian yelled, “Get me out of here! I’ll kill you!”
“Tempting,” Percy called down.”
― Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena