“I feel like Luke and I are on an island that's sinking and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I can swim, though. If Luke can't, then it's too bad. He's had sixteen years to learn.”

“The driver got out smiling. He looked about seventeen or eighteen, and for a second, I had the uneasy feeling it was Luke, my old enemy. This guy had the same sandy hair and outdoorsy good looks. But it wasn't Luke. His smile was brighter and more playful. (Luke didn't do much more than scowl and sneer these days.) The Maserati driver wore jeans and loafers and a sleeveless T-shirt."Wow" Thalia muttered. Apollo Is hot.""He's the sun god," I said."That's not what I meant.”

“I was going to punch the shit out him," he told me. I could feel his voice vibrating against my skin. "Luke. I didn't though. You know why?"I'd wondered about that."You asked me not to. Last summer. Remember? You gave me that note. 'Stop punching people.' It's the only thing you've ever asked me to do. I can do that much for you. I think I'd do anything for you.”

“Luke is not what you'd call a confident driver. In fact, he drives like someone's grandpa. "Luke," I say, "You have done this before, right? I mean, you do drive?" "Of course I drive!" He shoots me an indignant glare. "It's just that I learned in England. I'm used to driving on the other side of the road." "You pretty much are on the other side of the road.”

“On Dantooine, when Mara made me stop using the Force like a crutch, I had a lot of time to think about things. I realized I was using the force too much. Uncle Luke uses it like an advisor, or sometimes a power source. Others use it like a vibroblade, some like an opinion poll, and others yet like a whole variety of tools. I thought all about that, and I guess I chose to follow in Uncle Luke's footsteps." -Anakin”

“Blood trickled from the corner of her (Annabeth) mouth. She croaked, "Family, Luke. You promised."Luke stared at the knife in Annabeth's hand, the blood on her face. "Promise." Then he gasped like he couldn't get air. "Annabeth . . ." But it wasn't the Titan's voice. It was Luke's. He stumbled forward like he couldn't control his own body. "You're bleeding. . . ." He gasped again."He's changing. Help. He's . . . he's almost ready. He won't need my body anymore. Please—""The knife, Percy," Annabeth muttered. Her breath was shallow. "Hero . . . cursed blade . . ."Luke turned and collapsed, clutching his ruined hands."Please, Percy . . ."Luke seemed to know what I was thinking. He moistened his lips. "You can't . . . can't do it yourself. He'll break my control. He'll defend himself. Only my hand. I know where. I can . . . can keep him controlled."I raised the knife to strike. Then I looked at Annabeth, at Grover. And I finally understood what she'd been trying to tell me. You are not the hero, Rachel had said. It will affect what you do. The line from the great prophecy echoed in my head: A hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. My whole world tipped upside down,and I gave the knife to Luke.I watched as Luke grasped the hilt he stabbed himself”