“He could tell her he loved her. He ached to shout it out loud for the gods and everyone to hear. Little good it would do. Better to trust in the moon's promises than in the word of the Thief of Eddis. He was famous in three countries for his lies.”

“He loved her, and he would love her until the day he was too old for loving--but he could not have her. So he tasted the deep pain that is reserved only for the strong, just as he had tasted for a little while the deep happiness.”

“He loved her, of course, but better than that, he chose her, day after day. Choice: that was the thing.”

“He could not feel her near him in the darkness nor hear her voice touch his ear. He waited for some minutes listening. He could hear nothing: the night was perfectly silent. He listened again: perfectly silent. He felt that he was alone.”

“He was up in Wyoming,
And drew a bull no man could ride.
He promised her he'd turn out,
Well it turned out that he lied.
And their dreams that they'd been livin',
In the California sand,
Died right there beside him in Cheyenne.”

“He has ''. Eddy fumbled for her high school French. 'A heart like an artichoke?' '. He has a leaf for everyone, but makes a meal for no one.”

“He loved his country and his country loved him. He lived for her honour, and she will cherish his memory.”

“Her lips on his could tell him better than all her stumbling words.”

“When God would make His name known to mankind, He could find no better word than "I AM."”

“Annabeth pressed her lips to Percy’s ear. “I love you.”
She wasn’t sure he could hear her—but if they died, she wanted those to be her last words.”