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“I can see the sun, but even if I cannot see the sun, I know that it exists. And to know that the sun is there - that is living.”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

“She raised an eyebrow. "You got something to say to me, Seaweed Brain?"

You'd probably kick my butt."

You know I'd kick your butt."

I brushed the cake off my hands. "When I was at the River Styx, turning invulnerable . . . Nico said I had to concentrate on one thing that kept me anchored to the world, that made me want to stay mortal."

Annabeth kept her eyes on the horizon. "Yeah?"

Then up on Olympus," I said, "when they wanted to make me a god and stuff, I kept thinking-"

Oh, you so wanted to."

Well, maybe a little. But I didn't, because I thought-I didn't want things to stay the same for eternity, because things could always get better. And I was thinking . . ." My throat felt really dry.

Anyone in particular?" Annabeth asked, her voice soft.

I looked over and saw that she was trying not to smile.

You're laughing at me," I complained.

I am not!"

You are so not making this easy."

Then she laughed for real, and she put her hands
around my neck. "I am never, ever going to make things easy for you, Seaweed Brain. Get used to it.”
― Rick Riordan, The Last Olympian

“There's no point in defending camp if you guys die. All our friends are here.”
― Rick Riordan, The Last Olympian

“My mother made a squeaking sound that might of been either "yes" or "help".
Poseidon took it as a yes and came in.
Paul was looking back and forth between us, trying to read our expressions.
Finally he stepped forward.
"Hi, I'm Paul Blofis."
Poseidon raised an eyebrow and then shook his hand.
"Blowfish, did you say?"
"Ah, no. Blofis, actually."
"Oh, I see," Poseidon said. "A shame. I quite like blowfish. I am Poseidon."
"Poseidon? That's an interesting name."
"Yes, I like it. I've gone by other names, but I do prefer Poseidon."
"Like the god of the sea."
"Very much like that, yes"
"Well!" My mother interrupted. "Um, were so glad you could drop by. Paul, this is Percy's father."
"Ah." Paul nodded, though he didn't look real pleased. "I see."
Poseidon smiled at me. "There you are, my boy. And Tyson, hello, son!"
"Daddy!" Tyson [shouted]...
Paul's jaw dropped. He stared at my mother. "Tyson is..."
"Not mine," she promised. "It's a long story.”
― Rick Riordan, The Battle of the Labyrinth