Keep climbing,' he told himself.
'Cheeseburgers,' his stomach replied.
'Shut up,' he thought.
'With fries,' his stomach complained.

Yeah, you bet Romani.' Percy bared his forearm and showed them the brand he'd got at Camp Jupiter- the SPQR mark, with the trident of Neptune. 'You mix Greek and Roman, and you know what you get? You get BAM!'
He stomped his foot, and the empousai scrambled back. One fell off the boulder where she'd been perched.

GETTING KILLED BY TARTARUS didn’t seem like much of an honor.

As Annabeth stared up at his dark whirlpool face, she decided she’d rather die in some less memorable way—maybe falling down the stairs, or going peacefully in her sleep at age eighty, after a nice quiet life with Percy. Yes, that sounded good.

You guys are so... dark. Even if I used flash, I'm not sure it would come out."

"Y-yeah," Percy managed. "You guys aren't photogenic.

Right," she said, "We're going to the Land of the Dead and I shouldn't think negative.

The wood nymph instructors left me in the dust. They told me not to worry about it. They'd had centuries of practice running away from lovesick gods. But still, it was a little humiliating to be slower than a tree.