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“Sons and daughters. The thought jarred him. As quickly as hopelessness had overtaken him, it disappeared. He glanced at Annabeth. She still looked like a misty corpse, but he imagined her true appearance--her gray eyes full of determination, her blond hair pulled back in a bandana, her face weary and streaked with grime, but as beautiful as ever. Okay, maybe monsters kept coming back forever. But so did demigods. Generation after generation, Camp Half-Blood had survived. Now, if the Greeks and Romans could come together, they would be even stronger. There was still hope. He and Annabeth had come this far. The Doors of Death were almost within reach. Sons and daughters. A ridiculous thought. An awesome thought. Right there in the middle of Tartarus, Percy grinned.” — Rick Riordan