“Young people don't always do what they're told, but if they can pull it off and do something wonderful, sometimes they escape punishment. ”

“Hermes smiled. "I knew a boy once ... oh, younger than you by far. A mere baby, really."Here we go again, George said. Always talking about himself.Quiet! Martha snapped. Do you want to get set on vibrate?Hermes ignored them. "One night, when this boy's mother wasn't watching, he sneaked out of their cave and stole some cattle that belonged to Apollo.""Did he get blasted to tiny pieces?" I asked."Hmm ... no. Actually, everything turned out quite well. To make up for his theft, the boy gave Apollo an instrument he'd invented-a lyre. Apollo was so enchanted with the music that he forgot all about being angry."So what's the moral?""The moral?" Hermes asked. "Goodness, you act like it's a fable. It's a true story. Does truth have a moral?""Um ...""How about this: stealing is not always bad?""I don't think my mom would like that moral."Rats are delicious, suggested George.What does that have to do with the story? Martha demanded.Nothing, George said. But I'm hungry."I've got it," Hermes said. "Young people don't always do what they're told, but if they can pull it off and do something wonderful, sometimes they escape punishment. How's that?”

“She often had to remind herself that she couldn't do everything alone. She wasn't always the best person for the job. Sometimes she got tunnel vision and forgot about what other people needed.”

“Hades raised an eyebrow. When he sat forward in his throne, shadowy faces appeared in the folds of his black robes, faces of torment,as if the garment was stitched of trapped souls from the Fields of Punishment, trying to get out. The ADHD part of me wondered, off-task, whether the rest of his clothes were made the same way. What horrible things would you have to do in your life to get woven into Hades' underwear?”

“I remembered what she'd told me in New York, about building something permanent, and I thought - just maybe - we were off to a good start.”

“Do you always try to kill people when they blow their nose?”

“But she laced her fingers through mine. I remember what she’d told me in New York, about building something permanent, and I thought-just maybe-we were off to a good start.”