“The horse seemed to bend time and space as he ran, blurring the landscape and making Frank feel like he'd just drunk a gallon of whole milk without his lactose-intolerance medicine: "Seven hundred and fifty miles per hour. Eight hundred. Eight hundred and three. Fast. very Fast.”

“I guess it wasn't everyday they see a yellow lifeboat with no engine going a hundred knots an hour, manned by three kids.”

“Frank: "I wish I was ADHD or dyslexic. All I got is lactose intolerance."Percy: "Seriously?"Frank: "And I love ice cream too...”

“And when demigods use cell phones, the signals agitate every monster within a hundred miles. It's like sending up a flare: Here I am! Please rearrange my face!”

“He could't have survied a hundred foot drop. I'm sorry Annabeth.”

“Percy: The Heka-what? Annabeth: The Hundred-Handed Ones. They called them that because... well, they had a hundred hands. They were the elder brothers of the Cyclopes. Tyson: Very powerful. Wonderful! As tall as the sky. So strong they can break mountains! Percy: Cool. Unless you're a mountain.”

“Percy was waiting for them. He looked mad.He stood at the edge of the glacier, leaning on the staff with the golden eagle, gazing down at the wreckage he'd caused: several hundred acres of newly open water dotted with icebergs and flotsam from the ruined camp.The only remains on the glacier were the main gates, which listed sideways, and a tattered blue banner lying over a pile of now-bricks.When they ran up to him, Percy said, "Hey," like they were just meeting for lunch or something."You're alive!" Frank marveled.Percy frowned. "The fall? That was nothing. I fell twice that far from the St. Louis Arch.""You did what?" Hazel asked."Never mind. The important thing was I didn't drown.”