I don't think about being famous, really. Being an author, I don't generally get stopped as I walk down the street. It's not like being a movie star.

I think the more you understand myths, the more you understand the roots of our culture and the more things will resonate. Do you have to know them? No, but certainly it is nice to recognise how deeply these things are embedded in our literature, our art.

Contrary to what you might think, I don't spend every waking hour thinking about boys." "Just most waking hours?

Leo scratched his head. “Well I dunno about Enchiladas-“ “Enceladus,” Piper corrected. “Whatever. But Old Potty Face mentioned another name. Porpoise Fear, or something?” “Porphyrion?” Piper asked. ”He was the giant king, I think.

Holy mother!" "Hmph. More like holy father. I'd think you'd know the difference." -Hephaetus

I tried to think of something to say. Excuse me? Hello? Marry me? Anything would have done.

The whole campfire idea freaked Piper out. It made her think of that huge purple bonfire in the dreams, and her father tied to a stake. What she got instead was almost as terrifying: a sing-along.

Shut up, me,” Leo said aloud. “What?” Piper asked. “Nothing,” he said. “Long night. I think I’m hallucinating. It’s cool.” Sitting in front, Leo couldn’t see their faces, but he assumed from their silence that his friends were not pleased to have a sleepless, hallucinating dragon driver. “Just joking.” Leo decided it might be good to change the subject.

I missed him so much I would sometimes turn to tell him something before I forgot he was gone. In spite of all that, and all the emotion boiling around inside me, all I could think of to say was: “You’re blue.