“Leo's hands burst into flame. He wanted to melt Gaea's sandy face to glass. Then he felt Calypso's hand on his shoulder.
"Gaea." Her voice was stern and steady. "You are not welcome.”

“The only thing they had in common was Calypso, and every time Leo thought about that he wanted to punch Percy in the face.”

“Less than forty-eight hours until G-Day, when Gaea the Princess of Potty Sludge would awaken in all her dirt-faced glory.”

“excuse me' he added, taking the opera glasses out of her hands and looking over her bare shoulder at the row of boxes opposite, 'i'm afraid i'm becoming ridiculous”

“I paused with the pen in my hand. "He burst into flames?"
"He became engulfed in fire."
"Was his buddy made out of orange rocks and at any point yell, 'It's clobbering time'?”

“You’re that lady,” Leo said. “The one who was named after Caribbean music.”
Her eyes glinted murderously. “Caribbean music.”
“Yeah. Reggae?” Leo shook his head. “Merengue? Hold on, I’ll get it.”
He snapped his fingers. “Calypso!”

“He leans over and takes her hand. With the other he touches her face. ‘You your best thing, Sethe. You are.’ His holding fingers are holding hers.

‘Me? Me?”

“You guessed? You must have been pretty sure, considering you could have killed me."
"I was ninety percent sure."
"I see," Clary said.
There must have been something in her voice, because he turned to look at her. Her hand cracked across his face, a slap that rocked him back on his heels. He put his hand to his cheek, more in surprise than pain. "What the hell was that for?”

“She held up her calloused, grimy fingers. Leo couldn't help thinking there was nothing hotter than a girl who didn't mind getting her hands dirty. But of course, that was just a general comment. Didn't apply to Calypso. Obviously.”

“Our bodies aren't strangers,' he said, his voice ragged. 'Our spirits aren't strangers'. He held her face in his hands. 'Tell me what part of me is stranger to you and I'll destroy that part of me.'
And she wept to hear his words.”