Please, Percy...change Your Clothes. You Smell Like

Oh, Lord. I Was Beginning To Think Like Neith. Soon I'd Be Huddled In An Underground Bunker Eating Army Rations And Cackling As I Sewed Together The Pockets Of All The Boys Who'd Jilted Me.

Words Had Started Swimming Off The Page, Circling My Head, The Letters Doing One-eighties As If They Were Riding Skateboards.

Hazel: "there," She Said.the Official Building On Their Left Had A Single Word Etched On The Glass Doors: Amazon. "oh," Frank Said."uh, No, Hazel. That's A Modern Thing. They're A Company, Right? They Sell Stuff On The Internet. They're Not Actually Amazons." "unless..." Percy Walked Through The Doors.

You Might As Well Ask An Artist To Explain His Art, Or Ask A Poet To Explain His Poem. It Defeats The Purpose. The Meaning Is Only Clear Thorough The Search.

You're A Demigod Percy, Half God And Half Mortal!