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Quote by Rick Riordan

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The Ship of the Dead

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Rick Riordan
Rick Riordan

Rick Riordan, born on June 5, 1964, is an American author known for his works that blend mythology and fantasy elements. His most famous series, 'Percy Jackson & the Olympians,' combines Greek mythology with the experiences of modern teenagers. more

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“He thrust his hand in the air and summoned his sword of pure white flame. The gods and goddesses cowered. Throwing his head back and laughing, Surt grew to his full giant size. “You minor, forgotten, pathetic deities! So easy to bend to my will. Not one of you would dare to defy me!” I chose that moment to shape-shift into a bee, buzz up Surt’s teeny-tiny nose, and jab him with my stinger. With a howl of pain, Surt dropped his sword and shrank to his previous size. I changed into my true form. “I dare.” I whipped one end of my golden garrote around his neck and yanked it tight. Then I snatched up his flame sword and with one upward flick, sliced off his pubescent nose. “Jack and Magnus send their regards.” Surt lunged for me. I transformed into a bighorn sheep and head-butted him right where his nose used to be. Then I changed back to human, tightened the garrote until his eyes bulged, and threatened him with his own sword. “Come at me again,” I warned, “and you’ll regret it.” I surveyed the stunned deities. “If one einherji can do this, imagine what all of us can do. And will do, come Ragnarok. We are not destined to win, but we will fight with honor. We would welcome you on our side of the fight. But, if you must side with him”—I gave the garrote a vicious tug and was rewarded with a gurgle from Surt—“know this: I will personally hunt you down on the Last Battlefield of Vigridr and see that you are sent straight to Ginnungagap. The choice is yours.” The deities vanished.”

Alex FierroSurt
Book:9 From the Nine Worlds
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“What tipped you off—about Stan, I mean?” I asked. “Couple of things,” Alex replied. “He referred to Blitzen as the dwarf and claimed you hadn’t been in. Knowing how terrified you are of Sam—” “I am not!” “—I thought it was unlikely you’d skipped the shopping spree. So, I tested his story and called your phone. When I heard my ringtone, I knew he was lying about you being here. But the biggest clue? He refused to sell me anything. I mean, come on.” He gestured to his pink cashmere sweater vest and tight lime-green pants. “A real clothing salesman would have seen dollar signs the minute I walked into the store.”

Alex FierroAmir Fadlan
Book:9 From the Nine Worlds
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“A number of years ago, when I was a freshly-appointed instructor, I met, for the first time, a certain eminent historian of science. At the time I could only regard him with tolerant condescension. I was sorry of the man who, it seemed to me, was forced to hover about the edges of science. He was compelled to shiver endlessly in the outskirts, getting only feeble warmth from the distant sun of science- in-progress; while I, just beginning my research, was bathed in the heady liquid heat up at the very center of the glow. In a lifetime of being wrong at many a point, I was never more wrong. It was I, not he, who was wandering in the periphery. It was he, not I, who lived in the blaze. I had fallen victim to the fallacy of the 'growing edge;' the belief that only the very frontier of scientific advance counted; that everything that had been left behind by that advance was faded and dead. But is that true? Because a tree in spring buds and comes greenly into leaf, are those leaves therefore the tree? If the newborn twigs and their leaves were all that existed, they would form a vague halo of green suspended in mid-air, but surely that is not the tree. The leaves, by themselves, are no more than trivial fluttering decoration. It is the trunk and limbs that give the tree its grandeur and the leaves themselves their meaning. There is not a discovery in science, however revolutionary, however sparkling with insight, that does not arise out of what went before. 'If I have seen further than other men,' said Isaac Newton, 'it is because I have stood on the shoulders of giants.”

ScienceHorrorResearchDiscoveryNewtonFallacyHistory Of ScienceCondescensionIsaac NewtonHistorian Of Science
Book:Adding a Dimension: Seventeen Essays on the History of Science
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“Dude. Whoa.” I looked up to find Miles staring at me openmouthed in astonishment. Around him was a crowd of Vanaheim warriors. A few shifted and murmured uneasily. The dark-haired girl in the bikini top moved forward. “They’re . . . dead.” A tear traced down her cheek. It occurred to me then that while she, Miles, and the rest of Freya’s chosen were technically warriors, they might never have seen an actual battle, let alone been in one. “Well, yes, they’re dead,” I said carefully. “But if they’d succeeded in charbroiling and eating me, then I’d be dead. For good.” The girl looked at me blankly. “Because I’m an einherji.” The girl still looked puzzled. “If I die outside Valhalla, I stay dead. Unlike the dragons who, being mythical creatures, will vanish into Ginnungagap and eventually be reborn.” The girl’s face cleared. “The dragons will be reborn?” She grabbed her friend’s hands and started jumping up and down and squealing. “We’ll have baby dragons here soon. Soooo cute!” She beamed at me. “Thank you so much for killing them!”

DragonsHalfborn GundersonFreya S Chosen Slain
Book:9 From the Nine Worlds
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