“Percy looked at his friends. “I’m getting tired of this guy’s shirt.”

“Why do guys get to take off their shirts and we don't?”

“Hmm…” Jason snapped his fingers. “I can call a friend for a ride.”
Percy raised his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah? Me too. Let's see whose friend gets here first.”

“Dexter, please put your shirt on. Valkyrie’s getting distracted.”
“I’m not,” she said, then smiled at Vex. “You don’t have to put your shirt on.”

“Percy was getting tired of water.
If he said that aloud, he would probably get kicked out of Poseidon’s Junior Sea Scouts, but he didn’t care.”

“Where did you get that?" Jace looked down and saw that the spider demon's poison had eaten a hole in his shirt, leaving a good deal of his left shoulder bare.
"The shirt? At Macy's Winter sale.”

“i have found
the face
of story
lying again.
i’m tired.
i’m a moth
on sunday.
i’m rain
looking
for a cup’s
crippled rim…”

“Look, don’t get me wrong. I worship the ground this guy walks on. I’m excited to meet him tonight. I’m dying to meet him tonight. If he wanted to carry me off and make me his love slave, I’d do it, so long as I got advance copies of his books.”

“I’m not my name. My name is something I wear, like a shirt. It gets worn. I outgrow it, I change it.”

“He was the kind of guy that made a woman want to rip his shirt open and watch the buttons scatter along with her inhibitions.”