It's Useless To Lecture A Human.

Mythologically Speaking, If There's Anything I Hate Worse Than Trios Of Old Ladies, It's Bulls. Last Summer, I Fought The Minotaur On Top Of Half-blood Hill. This Time What I Saw Up There Was Even Worse: Two Bulls. And Not Just Regular Bulls - Bronze Ones The Size Of Elephants. And Even That Wasn't Bad Enough. Naturally They Had To Breathe Fire, Too.

Annabeth’s Shoulders Ached. The Elevator’s Easy-listening Music Didn’t Help. If All Monsters Had To Hear That Song About Liking Piña Coladas And Getting Caught In The Rain, No Wonder They Were In The Mood For Carnage When They Reached The Mortal World.

I Always Love It When I Hear Back From Kids Who Say They Discovered Percy Jackson And Now Wear Their Learning Difference As A Badge Of Honour.

George Unhinged His Jaw And Coughed Up A Little Plastic Bottle Filled With Chewable Vitamins. "you're Kidding," I Said. "are Those Minotaur-shaped?" Hermes Picked Up The Bottle And Rattled It. "the Lemon Ones, Yes. The Grape Ones Are Furies, I Think. Or Are They Hydras? At Any Rate, These Are Potent."

Red Cattle," Annabeth Said. "the Cattle Of The Sun." "what?" I [percy] Asked. "they're Sacred To Apollo." "holy Cows?