“Safety from what? Who's after me?"
Oh, nobody much," Grover said, obviously still miffed about the donkey comment. "Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions.”

“Oh mercy, mercy me.
Ah things ain't what they used to be.
What about this overcrowded land?
How much more abuse from man can she stand?
Oh, na na…
My sweet Lord… No.”

“Oh, to be a minion," muttered Giac to himself dreamily. "I was a sub-minion.”

“I take back what I said about the donkey,’’ Ascanio said. ‘’She’s awesome”

“Grover didn't say anything for awhile. Then, when I thought he was going to give me some deep philosophical comment to make me feel better, he said, "Can I have your apple?”

“What he'd just said was "Who cares?" and nobody wants to hear that.”

“News is what a chap who doesn't care much about anything wants to read. And it's only news until he's read it. After that it's dead.”

“But… you're still getting married?" Grover sounded hurt. "Who's the bride?" Ploypemus looked toward the boiling pot. Clarisse made a strangled sound. "Oh, no! You can't be serious. I'm not-”

“The tomato hit Brother Leon on his left cheek, a ripe tomato that exploded in juicy fury, splattering his shirt and his hair and smearing his face with what looked like blood. Nobody said anything. Nobody moved. Nobody cheered or booed. Everybody sat there in a profound silence as Brother Leon, mouth agape, wiped the tomato from his face, still silent as he stalked from the stage, leaving an assembly hall full of students who sat stunned, silent for a few minutes, then quietly filed out of the hall. Broher Leon never learned the culprit's name. He, in fact, never made an effort to do so. Nobody else ever mentioned the incident. But Henry Malloran was elected president of the senior class at the next day's election and nobody ran against him.”

“What is this Chocho business?' Will muttered to himself. But his friends overheard the comment.
'It's a term of great respect,' they chorused, and he glared at them.
'Oh, shut up,' he said.”