“Well, duh. You're cuter than she is." He said it like he might say, Grass is green or, Gravity works.”

“Well, duh. You're cuter than she is." He said it like he might say, Grass is green or, Gravity works.Something warm opened up inside my chest. It was a nice feeling.”

“You're Dionysus," I said. "The god of wine."Mr. D rolled his eyes. "What do they say these days, Grover? Do the children say 'Well duh!'?"Y-yes, Mr. D."Then, well, duh! Percy Jackson. Did you think I was Aphrodite, perhaps?" You're a god."Yes, child."A god. You.”

“The sky is blue,' he said, 'the grass is green.' Looking up, he saw that, on the contrary, the sky is like the veils which a thousand Madonnas have let fall from their hair; and the grass fleets and darkens like a flight of girls fleeing the embraces of hairy satyrs from enchanted woods. 'Upon my word,' he said [...], 'I don't see that one's more true than another. Both are utterly false.”

“Well, duh. He was six feet, six inches tall and built like a brick shithouse.”

“The light works," he said, indicating the window, "the gravity works," he said, dropping a pencil on the floor. "Anything else we have to take our chances with.”