Dude! Said A Party Pony As He

I Picked Up Pandora's Jar. The Spirit Of Hope Fluttered Inside, Trying To Warm The Cold Container. "hestia," I Said, "i Give This To You As An Offering." The Goddess Tilted Her Head. "i Am The Least Of The Gods. Why Would You Trust Me With This?" "you're The Last Olympian," I Said. "and The Most Important." "and Why Is That, Percy Jackson?" "because Hope Survives Best At The Hearth," I Said. "guard It For Me, And I Won't Be Tempted To Give Up Again."

We Had Enough Quite Enough Snobbery In This World Without Exporting It To The Hereafter.

We Need A Shroud. A Shroud For The Son Of Hermes.

Met Them. Killed Them. Got The T-shirt.

Monsters Don't Die. They Just Dissipate Into Smoke And Dust, Which Saves Heroes A Lot Of Trouble Cleaning Up After A Fight.