Why are they so sad?” I asked. “Well, they’re dead,” Carter speculated.
Well," I said. "If you need me, I'll be outside, playing with sharp objects.
Frank nodded grimly. “Well…any goddess who throws a Ding Dong at a giant can’t be all bad. Let’s go.
If I'm going to burn, it might as well be bright.
Maybe if he did really well they'd give him some mouldy apples.
Poison!" Grover yelped. "Don't let those things touch you or..." "Or we'll die?" I guessed. "Well...after you shrivel slowly to dust, yes." "Let's avoid the swords," I decided.
Well that was sucktastic
And if I was humming "Happy Birthday" and smiling stupidly as I fled for my life—well, that was nobody's business, was it?
Ever had a flying burrito hit you? Well, it's a deadly projectile, right up there with cannonballs and grenades.
Is it fair your life burns so short and bright? Death had asked. "No such thing as fair," Frank told himself. "If I'm going to burn, it might as well be bright.